‘Aunt, I have promised. All will be well with me.’
‘Yes, yes, I know. I am happy. Robert——’
With an effort she raised her hand, whiter, more fragile than when he had admired it as they sat in the garden; even in her death she remembered that moment. And, as, for the first and last time in her life, he laid his lips upon it, the light in her eyes went out.
*****
It was nearing sunrise when he left Cecilia in the dark house, and daylight was beginning to look blue through the chinks of the shutter as it met the shine of the candles.
‘I will come back to-day,’ he said; ‘there will be a great many things I must help you about. To-morrow you must come to Fullarton.’
‘And leave her?’ she exclaimed.
‘If her friendship for me had been less,’ said he, as they parted, ‘you and I would have been happier to-day. My God! what a sacrifice!’
‘Do you call that friendship?’ she cried, facing him, straight and white in the dimness of the hall. ‘Is that what you call friendship? Mr. Fullarton, have you never understood?’
*****