“I will not avouch,” pursued Chetham, passionately, “that I have not been actuated as much by an irrepressible desire to see you again, as by anxiety to apprise you of Doctor Dee's coming. I wanted only a slight excuse to myself to induce me to yield to my inclinations. Your departure made me wretched. I thought I had more control over myself. But I find I cannot live without you.”
“Alas! alas!” cried Viviana, in a troubled tone, and losing all her self-command. “I expected this. Why—why did you come?”
“I have told you my motive,” replied Chetham; “but, oh! do not reproach me!”
“I do not desire to do so,” returned Viviana, with a look of agony. “I bitterly reproach myself that I cannot meet you as of old. But I would rather—far rather have encountered Doctor Dee, had he come hither resolved to exert all his magical power to force me away, than have met you.”
“Have I unwittingly offended you, Viviana?” asked Chetham, in astonishment.
“Oh! no—no—no!” she replied, “you have not offended me; but——”
“But what?” he cried, anxiously.
“I would rather have died than see you,” she answered.
“I will not inquire wherefore,” rejoined Chetham, “because I too well divine the cause. I am no longer what I was to you.”
“Press this matter no further, I pray of you,” returned Viviana, in much confusion, and blushing deeply. “I shall ever esteem you,—ever feel the warmest gratitude to you. And what matters it whether my heart is estranged from you or not, since I can never wed you?”