"But you do not like the lady's coming."

"I should not like any visitor coming to stay with us and prevent our _tete-a-tete_," said Lyon, gravely.

"I thought of that too, dear, and with a pang of selfish regret; for of course I would much rather that you and I should have our dear old home to ourselves, than that any stranger should share it with us. But then, oh, dearest Lyon, I reflected that we are so rich and happy in our home and our love, and she is so poor and sorrowful in her exile and desertion, that we might afford to comfort her from the abundance of our blessings," said Sybil, earnestly.

"My angel wife! you are worthier than I, and your will shall be done,"

he gravely replied.

"Not so, dear Lyon! But when you see this lady in her beauty and her sorrow, you also will admire and pity her, and you will be glad that she is coming to the refuge of our home."

"I may be so," replied Mr. Berners with an arch smile, "but how will your proud neighbors receive this questionable stranger?"

The stately little head was lifted in an instant, and--

"My 'proud neighbors' well know that whom Sybil Berners protects with her friendship is peer with the proudest among them!" she said, with a hauteur not to be surpa.s.sed by the haughtiest in the Old Dominion.

"Well said, my little wife! And now, as this matter is decided, I must see about taking additional places in the stage-coach. How many will be wanted? What retinue has this foreign princess in distress," inquired Lyon, rather sarcastically.

"There will be three places required, for the lady, child and nurse."

"Whe-ew! My dear Sybil, we are collecting a ready made family! Does the child squall? or the nurse drink?" inquired Lyon, with a laugh, as without waiting for a reply he rang the bell, and gave the order for three more places to be taken inside the Staunton coach for the morning.

And soon after this the young pair retired to rest.

Very early the next morning Sybil Berners came out of her chamber, looking fresh and bright as the new day itself. She wore a close-fitting travelling dress of crimson merino, that well became her elegant little figure and rich, dark complexion.

She glanced around the room to see that everything was in order. Yes; the fire was bright, the hearth clean, the breakfast-table neatly set, and the morning sun shining through the red-curtained windows and glancing upon the silver tea-service.

With a smile of satisfaction, she tossed back her raven-black ringlets, and pa.s.sed from the room and through the hall, and rapped at the door of her new acquaintance.

Mrs. Blondelle herself opened it, and stood there quite ready to accompany her friend to breakfast.

Radiantly beautiful looked the fair young stranger this morning, in the dark, bright-blue cloth habit that so highly enhanced the dazzling splendor of her blooming complexion and the golden glory of her hair.

An instant Sybil paused in involuntary admiration, and then recovered herself and greeted the lady with affectionate warmth.

"It is nearly eight o'clock, dear, and breakfast is quite ready. Will you come now?" inquired Sybil, when these salutations were pa.s.sed.

Rosa a.s.sented with a sweet smile, and Sybil led the way into her own sitting-room.

Mr. Berners had come in during his wife's short absence, and he now stood before the fire with the morning paper in his hand. He put it down on the table, and came forward to meet his wife, and to welcome her guest.

"Mrs. Blondelle, Mr. Berners," said Sybil, introducing the parties to each other by the simplest formula.

And while they were bowing together, Sybil was watching mischievously to see what effect the dazzling beauty of Rosa Blondelle would have upon Lyon Berners.

She saw it!

After bowing, they lifted their heads and looked at each other--he, at first, with the courtesy of a host--but she with a radiant and enchanting smile.

Sybil was prepared to see Lyon's surprise at the first view of this peerless creature; but she was by no means prepared to witness the involuntary gaze of intense and breathless admiration and wonder that he fixed for a moment on her beautiful face. That gaze said as eloquently as words could have spoken:

"This is the most wondrous, perfect creature that the world ever saw!

This is the master-piece of nature."

With the sunlight of her smile still shining on him, Rosa held out her hand, and said in the sweetest tones:

"Sir, I have no words good enough to tell you how deeply I feel your kindness and that of your dear wife to me."

"Dear lady, Mrs. Berners and myself do but gratify our own tastes in _trying_ to serve you; for it will be a great happiness to us if we succeed in doing so," replied Lyon Berners, with a look and tone that proved his perfect sincerity and earnestness.

As thus they smiled and glanced, and spoke to each other, Sybil also glanced from the one to the other; a sudden pang shot through her heart, exciting a nameless dread in her mind. _"Even so quickly may one catch the plague!"_

"Let me lead you to the table," said Mr. Berners, offering his arm to Mrs. Blondelle, and conducting her to her place.

Above all, Sybil was a lady; for she was a Berners. So, with this strange wound in her heart, this vague warning in her mind, she took her seat at the head of her table and did its honors with her usual courtesy and grace.

Mr. Berners seconded his wife in all hospitable attentions to their beautiful young guest.

While they were all still seated at the table, a groom rapped at the door and reported the stage-coach ready.

They all arose in a hurry, and began to make the last hasty preparations for departure.

Mrs. Blondelle hurried into her own room, to have her luggage taken down stairs to be put on the coach, and also to summon her nurse with the child.

When Sybil Berners found herself for a moment alone with her husband, she laid her hand upon his coat sleeve to stay him, in his haste, and she inquired:

"What do you think of her now?"

"I think, my darling Sybil, that you were right in your judgment of this lady. And I agree with you perfectly. I think, my only love, that in what you have done for this stranger, you have acted not only with the goodness, but with the wisdom of an angel," replied Lyon Berners, s.n.a.t.c.hing her suddenly to his heart, and holding her closely there while he pressed kiss after kiss upon her crimson lip; and murmured:

"I must steal a kiss from these sweet lips when and wherever I can, my own one, since we are not to be much alone together now."

And then he released her, and hurried off to put on his overcoat.

Sybil stood for a minute, smiling, where he had left her, and so happy that she forgot she had to get ready to go. The pain was gone from her heart, and the cloud from her brain.

And as yet, so little did she know of herself or others, that she could not have told why the pain and the cloud ever came, or why they ever went away.

As yet she did not know that her husband's admiring smiles given to a rival beauty had really caused her nameless suffering; or that it was his loving caresses, bestowed upon herself, that had soothed it.

In a word, Sybil Berners, the young bride, did not dream that the bitter, bitter seed of JEALOUSY was germinating in her heart, to grow and spread perhaps into a deadly upas of the soul, destroying all moral life around it.

CHAPTER VII.

DOWN IN THE DARK VALE.