There is no emotion in this world more delightful, and nothing perhaps more beautiful, than a young girl's first dream of love; for a young man's first affair of the heart is even different in some respects. It is so full of innocence, of simplicity and truth, if the girl is pure and ingenuous; it is so full, also, of a new-born mystery, a charm, and a world of thought, of chance and risk, where there may be triumph or defeat, victory or failure, sorrow perhaps, and joy perhaps--but still she hopes, above all, a delight and happiness hitherto unknown. Hence it becomes absorbing; and such had been Sybil's love for Audley at home when she had the shelter of her mother's breast, and such for a time it had been after they were to all appearance so hopelessly separated; and now, after a lull, or being for a space, as it were, suppressed and crushed well-nigh out, by change, by distance, time, and travel,--now the love-lamp shone again. And Audley, ere he had heard of his succession to that title which should have been Denzil's, had fated Denzil lived, had made her an abrupt but formal proposal of his hand. Would he renew it now? She was not left long in doubt; for under the cognizance and with the express approbation of the wife of the Viceroy, who deemed herself in the place of mother and protectress to Sybil, he renewed his offer, and then the lady judiciously left the cousins--for such he had told her they were--to settle the matter between them. "Ah, Audley," said Sybil, "too well do you know how I am situated; what or whom have I to cling to in this world--but you, perhaps?" she added, with a low voice, while her breast heaved, and her half-averted face was full of passionate tenderness. "Now that my poor Denzil is gone, nor kith, nor kin, nor inheritance--what can I offer you in return!" "Yourself, darling; what more do I ask in this world!" he said, in a low and earnest voice, as he gradually drew her nearer him; and as her hand went caressingly on his neck, it seemed to him a dearer collar than either the Bath or Garter could be, for "what is all the glory of the world compared with the joy of thus meeting--thus having those we love?" "Now, Sybil," said he, "you find how difficult it is to forget that one has loved----" "And been beloved," murmured the girl. "More than all by such a pure-souled heart as yours. You remember our first meeting by the tarn?" "Could I ever forget it?" "And our learned disquisition on flirtation, too. How odd it seems now, darling." "And dear old Rajah--you have not our rough, shaggy _introducteur_ with you," said Sybil, smiling. "Poor dog, no. I left him at home in Rhoscadzhel, and, somehow, he is dead; that is all I know about it--so Gartha told me in a letter." "All who love me die--even the poor dog. Surely they would be kind to your pet, for your sake." "They--well, I don't know--doubtless."