Constance had cut off one of her long sunny braids, and was twining it,
in and out, in fetter-locks round Guy's fingers as she lay nestling in
the clasp of his other arm: it was only their eyes that were speaking
then. They started as the door opened suddenly, and Mrs. Vavasour came
in, her face white, and her eyes wild with terror. She was too
frightened to be gentle or considerate.
"You must go this instant!" she cried out, catching Livingstone's arm.
"Constance, make him go; he has staid too long already. You know you
promised."
"I did promise," Constance answered, calmly, almost proudly "and he will
keep it."
Then she turned to Guy, who was kneeling by her, and hid her face in his
neck, locking her arms round him. Her aunt caught the words--"Not
forget!" Beyond these her farewell was a secret known only to her lover
and the angels.
But the parting, which had come so suddenly, drained the last weak
remnant of strength already taxed too hardly. Guy felt the lips that
were murmuring in his car grow still at first, and then cold; the tender
arms unknit themselves, and his imploring eyes could draw no answer from
hers that were closed.
"She has only fainted," Mrs. Vavasour said, answering his look: "I will
recover her.
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