"Sybil, my darling, you are really not well. Let me lead you out of this crowded room," he whispered, very gently, laying his hand upon her shoulder. She dashed it off as if it had been some venomous reptile, and turned upon him a look flaming with fiery wrath. "Sybil you will certainly draw the attention of our guests," he persisted, with much less gentleness than he had before spoken. "If you touch me, or speak to me but once more--if you do not leave me on the instant, I _will_ draw the attention of our guests, and draw it with a vengeance too!" she fiercely retorted, never once removing from him her flaming eyes. CHAPTER XVIII. LYING IN WAIT. "He is with her; and they know that I know Where they are, and what they do; they believe my tears flow While they laugh, laugh at me, at me left in the drear Empty hall to lament in, for them!--I am here."--BROWNING. "You are a lunatic, and fit only for a lunatic asylum!" was the angry comment of Lyon Berners, as he turned upon his heel and left his wife. It was the first time in his life that he had ever spoken angrily to Sybil, or even felt angry with her. Hitherto he had borne her fierce outbursts of jealousy with "a great patience," feeling, perhaps, that they flamed up from the depths of her burning love for him; feeling, also, that his own thoughtless conduct had caused them. Now, however, he was thoroughly incensed by the deportment of his wife, and deeply mortified at the effect it might have upon their company. He went around to the opposite side of the table. He did not again join Rosa, for he dreaded a scene, and even a catastrophe; but he mingled with the crowd, and stood where he could see Sybil, without being seen by her. Her face remained the same--awful in the marble-like stillness of her agonized features; terrible in the fierceness of her flaming eyes! This was at length observed by some of the guests, who whispered their comments or enquiries to others. And the hum of voices and the burden of their low-toned talk at length reached the ears or excited the suspicions of Lyon Berners. The ordeal of the supper-table was a frightful trial to him. He longed for it to be over. At length the longing was gratified--the torture was over. The guests, by twos and by fours, by small groups and large parties, left the supper-room for the saloon, where the musicians struck up a grand march, and the greater portion of the company formed into a leisurely promenade as a gentle exercise after eating, and a prudent prelude to more dancing. Some among the guests, however, preferred to seat themselves on the sofas that lined the walls, and to rest.