only recognize. You deem you are in darkness, and I see a dawn. The
new generation of the aristocracy of England are not tyrants, not
oppressors, Sybil, as you persist in believing. Their intelligence,
better than that, their hearts are open to the responsibility of their
position. But the work that is before them is no holiday-work. It is not
the fever of superficial impulse that can remove the deep-fixed barriers
of centuries of ignorance and crime. Enough that their sympathies are
awakened; time and thought will bring the rest. They are the natural
leaders of the People, Sybil; believe me they are the only ones."

"The leaders of the People are those whom the People trust," said Sybil
rather haughtily.

"And who may betray them," said Egremont.

"Betray them!" exclaimed Sybil. "And can you believe that my father--"

"No, no; you can feel, Sybil, though I cannot express, how much I honour
your father. But he stands alone in the singleness and purity of his
heart. Who surround him?"

"Those whom the People have also chosen; and from a like confidence in
their virtues and abilities. They are a senate supported by the sympathy
of millions, with only one object in view--the emancipation of their
race. It is a sublime spectacle, these delegates of labour advocating
the sacred cause in a manner which might shame your haughty factions.
What can resist a demonstration so truly national! What can withstand
the supremacy of its moral power!"

Her eye met the glance of Egremont. That brow full of thought and
majesty was fixed on his. He encountered that face radiant as a
seraph's; those dark eyes flashing with the inspiration of the martyr.

Egremont rose, moved slowly to the window, gazed in abstraction for a
few moments on the little garden with its dank turf that no foot ever
trod, its mutilated statue and its mouldering frescoes. What a silence;
how profound! What a prospect: how drear! Suddenly he turned, and
advancing with a more rapid pace: he approached Sybil. Her head was
averted, and leaning on her left arm she seemed lost in reverie.
Egremont fell upon his knee and gently taking her hand he pressed it
to his lips. She started, she looked round, agitated, alarmed, while
he breathed forth in tremulous accents, "Let me express to you my
adoration!

"Ah! not now for the first time, but for ever; from the moment I first
beheld you in the starlit arch of Marney has your spirit ruled my being
and softened every spr