When this course of conduct had been kept up for a week, it happened one day that Sybil went alone to Blackville to purchase some articles for her approaching mask ball. Lyon Berners was reclining on the sofa in the drawing-room, with the last number of the "North American Review" in his hands. Suddenly a soft hand stole into his, and a soft voice murmured in his ear: "Mr. Berners, how have I been so unhappy as to offend you?" He looked up in surprise to see Rosa Blondelle standing by him. Her lovely face was very pale, her beautiful hair in disorder, her blue eyes full of tears, her tender voice tremulous with emotion. As Lyon Berners met her appealing gaze, his heart smote him for his late coldness to her. "In what manner have I been so unhappy as to offend you, Mr. Berners?" she repeated, tearfully. "In no manner at all, dear. How could one so gentle as yourself offend any one?" exclaimed Lyon Berners, rising, and taking both her unresisting hands in his own; and feeling for the first time a sentiment of _tenderness_, as well as of admiration, for her. "But I thought I had offended you. You have been so changed to me of late," murmured Rosa, with her blue eyes full of tears. "No, no, dear, not really changed, indeed. Only--absorbed by other engagements," answered Lyon Berners, evasively. "You are the only friend I have in the whole world. And if _you_ should desert me, I should perish," murmured Rosa, pathetically. "But I will never desert you, dear. Nor am I the only friend you have in the world. My wife is surely your friend," said Lyon Berners, earnestly. Slowly and sorrowfully Rosa Blondelle shook her head, murmuring sadly: "No woman ever was my friend. I know not why." "_I_ can easily imagine why. But in regard to my dear wife, you are mistaken. Surely she has proved herself your friend." "She is a noble lady, and I honor her. She is my benefactress, and I thank her. But she is not my friend, and so I do not love her." "I am sorry to hear you say so, dear." "And I am sorry to be obliged to say so. But it is true. _You_ are my only friend, Mr. Berners. The only friend I have in the wide, wide world." "And do you love me?" inquired Lyon Berners, taking the siren's hand, and utterly yielding to her allurements; "say, fair one, do you love me?" "Hush! hush!" breathed Rosa, drawing away her hand and covering her face--"hush! that is a question you must not ask, nor I answer." "But--as a _brother_, I mean?" whispered Lyon. "Oh! yes, yes, yes! as a dear brother, I love you dearly," fervently exclaimed Rosa. "And as a dear sister you shall share my love and care always," earnestly answered Mr. Berners. "And you will not be cold to me any longer?" "No, dear." "And you will come and listen to my poor little songs this evening, and let me do my best to amuse you?" "Yes, dear, I will throw over all other engagements, and delight myself in your heavenly strains to-night," answered Lyon Berners.