Frank did come speedily up the road just as the quadrille was in full force; and perhaps the hindrance had stood him in good stead; for when the performance ceased in the twilight, and voices were eagerly talking of renewing it as a fackel-tanz in the later evening, and only yielding at the recollection of dinner engagements, it was not Charlie who was taking off Eleonora's skates; and when, after fixing grand plans for the morrow, Lady Tyrrell mounted her pony-carriage and looked for her sister, she heard that Miss Vivian was walking home. Yes, Miss Vivian was walking home; and there was a companion by her side feeling as if that dark, hard gravelled road were the pebbly beach of Rockpier. "When do you go to London?" she asked. "To-morrow afternoon. Wish me well through, Lenore." "Indeed I do." "Say it again, Lenore! Give me the elixir that will give me power to conquer everything." "Don't say such exaggerated things." "Do you think it is possible to me to exaggerate what a word from you is to me?" said Frank, in a low voice of intense feeling. "O Frank! it is wiser not to say such things." "Wise! what is that to me? It is true, and you have known it--and why will you not allow that you do, as in those happy old days--" "That's what makes me fear. It would be so much better for you if all this had never begun." "It has begun, then!" murmured Frank, with joy and triumph in the sound. "As long as you allow that, it is enough for me." "I must! It is true; and truth must be somewhere!" was whispered in a strange, low, resolute whisper. "True! true that you can feel one particle of the intensity--Oh! what words can I find to make you understand the glow and tenderness the very thought of you has been!" "Hush, hush!--pray, Frank. Now, if I do own it--" "It--what? Let me hear! I'm very stupid, you know!" said Frank, in a voice of exulting comprehension, belying his alleged stupidity. "What you have been to me--" "Have been--eh?" said this cruel cross-examiner. "Do not let us waste time," said Eleonora, in a trembling voice; "you know very well." "Do I?" "Now, Frank!" "If you only knew what it would be worth to me to hear you say it!" "I'm afraid it would be only worth pain and grief to you, and anger from every one," said she, in a low dejected voice, "far more than I am worth." "You? Trust me to judge of that, Lenore. Would not you be worth all, and more than all, that flesh or spirit could feel! I could face it all for one look from you!" said Frank, with fervour from his heart of hearts. "You make me more and more afraid. It is all too wretched to lead any one into. Since I knew the whole truth, I have tried to spare you from it."