'Falsehoods!' she repeated in a forcible tone, the colour mounting higher in her cheeks, 'Sir, I have nothing to do with falsehoods. I paused, because I thought I could not readily collect the matter of our conversations into the compass of one answer. I might, indeed have done it, for they have been uniform. We have talked, Sir, of our unchanging truth. Of times past, and times to come. Of the world, of its pleasures, and its virtues. Of----' 'Enough of it.' cried Mr. Valmont, darting on me a glance of extreme wrath; 'You talked, you say, of times that are to come. Pray, who endowed you with the gift of foretelling what times are to come?' 'Sir, our endowments are perfectly natural. We do not presume to tell of the future, except as far as it is confined to the feelings of our own hearts. We know, fully and entirely know, that our hearts must cease to throb with life, when that love is extinguished, which was born and nurtured to its growth, under the encouragement of your approbation--do not frown on me, Sir,--I--I----' Mr. Valmont did not speak while Sibella made a faultering stop. She shortly went on again thus: 'I confess, Sir, that I do fear you. Habit is prevalent with me, and I still tremble at your frowns. I would not offend you, but I must expostulate. Oh be not, I intreat you, be not angry with Clement for loving me! He must love me. Our love is the very soul of our being. Give us then, Sir, new life! Unalloyed felicity! Say----' She seized my hand, and leading me close up to Mr. Valmont, she added, with rapid vehemence: 'Say now, that he is mine, and I am his for ever!' Her emphasis made me tremble. I had neither power to brave him, and speak with her, nor attempt conciliating him, by withdrawing my hand from her's. In a much less angry tone, although she had been so much more bold, than he had used to me, Mr. Valmont said, 'You are strangely presumptuous, child. Have I not told you, I have other designs. Have I not a right over you?' 'No, you have none!' replied Sibella, abruptly: 'No right to the exercise of an unjust power over me! Why dream of impossibilities, and talk of other designs? I tell you, Sir, I have looked on every side, and I find it is your caprice, and no principle of reason in you, that forbids our union.' Had you seen him, Arthur, you could alone judge of the rage into which this daring speech threw Mr. Valmont. He sprang up, _My caprice!_ he vociferated, and after bestowing on Sibella an execration, he rushed past us out of the library. Sibella, neither abashed nor terrified, would have me go with her into the park, but I dared not; fearing that Mr. Valmont might think I joined in braving him if he saw us together. I endeavoured to persuade her it was necessary I should remain in the library, and proper that she should leave me. The lovely romantic girl called me weakly timid, and left me somewhat displeased.