"Away!" said Gwladys.
"Do you wish, then, never to see me again?"
"Never!" she said. "My greatest wish is never to see you or hear of
you again!"
Cardo sank on the garden seat, feeling himself more perfectly unmanned
than he had ever been before. He had built such fair castles of hope,
the ruin was so great; he had dreamt such dreams of happiness--and the
awakening was so bitter!
Gwladys saw the storm of feeling which had overwhelmed him, and for a
moment her voice softened.
"I am sorry for you," she said; "but I have given you my answer."
The slight tone of tenderness in her voice seemed to restore Cardo to
life. He crossed the velvet path, and, laying hold of her hands, which
she in vain tried to wrest from his grasp.
"You are mine!" he said, "and I challenge heaven and earth to take you
from me!"
"It is base and dishonourable," said Gwladys, still struggling in his
grasp, "to frighten a friendless girl and force your presence upon her."
But Cardo's grasp was suddenly relaxed. Dropping his arms at his
sides, and going back a step or two, he stood aside to let her pass.
His long-tried temper had over-mastered him, as with a scornful voice
he spoke for the last time.
"One word before you go--dishonourable! not even you shall call me
that twice. Some strange cloud is over you--you are not the same
Valmai that walked with me beside the Berwen. You cannot kill my love,
but you have turned it to-night into gall and bitterness. I will
never intrude my presence upon you again. Go through life if you
can, forgetting the past; I will never disturb the even tenor of your
way. And if, in the course of time, we may cross each other's paths,
do not fear that I, by word or sing, will ever show that we have met
before."
"I hold you to that promise," said Gwladys haughtily. And she passed
on in the deepening twilight, under the fir trees, Cardo looking after
her with an aching heart.
She met Mrs. Power on the stairs.
"You have been a long time, dear; I hope you haven't taken cold."
"Oh! no, I will be down directly; it must be near dinner-time."
She walked steadily up the broad staircase, and into her own room; but
once there, she threw herself on the couch, and buried her face in the
cushions.
"Oh! Valmai, my sister!" she sobbed, "what have I not borne for you
to-night! I have kept to my determination; but oh! I did not know it
would be so hard! You shall never more be troubled with this man; you
are beginning to find peace and joy in life, and you shall never again
be exposed to his cruel wiles. But oh! Valmai, having seen him I
forgive you; he can pretend to be passionately and truly in love with
you! but he is false, like every other man! He left you in despair and
disgrace; or what did he mean by 'the little mound in the churchyard'?
Oh! Valmai, what have you suffered? But now I have saved you, darling,
from further temptation from him. God grant my cruel deception may
bear good fruit for you, my sister!"