When Mr Berners was left alone, he did not resume the reading of his

review. His heart became the prey of bitter-sweet reflections, made up

of gratified self-love and of severe self-reproach.

"That beautiful creature does care for me, and is pained by my

coldness! Ah! but I hope and trust she loves me only as a sister loves

a brother! She has no brother, poor child! And her heart must have some

one to lean on! I must be that one, for she has chosen me, and I will

not be so recreant to humanity as to reject her trust."

Then his conscience smote him. And he felt that he had shown more

tenderness for this lady than the occasion called for, or than his duty

warranted. He had called her "dear;" he had kissed her hand; he had

asked her if she loved him! And this in the face of all his late

protestations to his wife!

Lyon Berners was an honorable man and devotedly attached to his wife,

and he was shocked now at the recollection of how far he had been drawn

away from the strict line of duty by this lovely blonde!

But then he said to himself that he had only caressed and soothed Rosa

in a brotherly way; and that it was a great pity Sybil should be of such

a jealous and exacting nature, as to wish to prevent him from showing a

little brotherly love to this lovely and lonely lady.

And worried by these opposing thoughts and feelings, Lyon Berners left

his sofa and began to pace up and down the length of the drawing-room

floor.

In truth now, for the first time, the mischief was done! The siren had

at last ensnared him, in her distress and dishabille, with her tears and

tenderness, as she never had done in the full blaze of her adorned

beauty, or by the most entrancing strains of divine melody.

While Lyon Berners paced up and down the drawing-room floor, he seemed

to see again the tender, tearful gaze of her soft blue eyes upon him;

seemed to hear again the melting tones of her melodious voice pleading

with him: "How have I been so unhappy as to offend you, Mr. Berners?"

What a contrast this sweet humility of friendship with the fiery pride

of Sybil's love!

While he was almost involuntarily drawing this comparison, he heard the

wheels of the carriage that brought Sybil home roll up to the door and

stop.

From her morning drive through the bright and frosty air, Sybil entered

the drawing-room blooming, and glowing with health and happiness. For

since that full explanation with her husband, she had been very happy.

Lyon Berners hastened to meet her. And perhaps it was his secret and

painful consciousness of that little episode with Rosa, that caused him

to throw into his manner even more than his usual show of affection, as

he drew her to his bosom and kissed her fondly.




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