| 'Sweet the thought, our lives, my love. Parted ne'er may be, Though between thy heart and mine Leagues of land and sea. ****** Of this twofold life and love, Twofold running fate, Sad and lone we may be oft, Never desolate.' Britton. |
Cyril knew where he should find Audrey; she was generally in her own little sitting-room until luncheon. Sometimes her mother or Mollie would be with her, but this morning he felt instinctively that she would be alone.
She was sitting by the window, and there was some work on her lap, but she did not seem to be employing herself. She had bidden Cyril enter, and directly she saw him she rose from her seat and crossed the room somewhat quickly to meet him; but he did not at once speak to her, neither did he offer his usual greeting.
She waited for a moment to see what he would do; then she put up her face to him.
'Why do you not kiss me, Cyril?' she said, a little reproachfully; and then he did take her in his arms.
'It is for the last time!' he murmured, as he pressed her almost convulsively to him.
But she made no answer to this; when he had set her free, she took his hand very quietly, and led him to a seat that stood beside her chair. His hand was cold, and she kept it in both her own as though to warm it.
'I knew you would come to me,' she said very softly. 'How ill you look, my poor Cyril! You have not slept. Oh yes, I know all about it. And you have been to father, and you have both made yourselves very miserable. Do you think I do not know that? Poor father! and he is so tender-hearted.'
'I tried to spare him,' he returned wearily. 'I did not wish to put him to any trouble. I must dree my own weird, Audrey.'
'But I shall have to dree it too. Cyril, my darling, you shall not bear your trouble alone; it is far too heavy for you. As far as we can—as far as our duty permits, we will bear it together.' And then, as though the haggardness of his young face was too much for her, she came closer to him, and laid her head on his shoulder. 'We will bear it together, Cyril.'