fe; he loved her
better than all earthly things. That the knowledge was all too palpable
then, he was bitterly feeling, and he could not suppress it. He could
neither suppress the knowledge, nor the fact; it had been very present
with him for long and long. He could not help it, as he said. He
believed, in his honest heart, that he had not encouraged the passion;
that it had taken root and spread unconsciously to himself. He would
have driven it away, had it been in his power; he would drive it away
now, could he do it by any amount of energy or will. But it could not
be. And Lionel Verner leaned in the dark there against the window-frame,
resolving to do as he had done before--had done all along. To suppress
it ever; to ignore it so far as might be; and to do his duty as honestly
and lovingly by his wife, as though the love were not there.

He _had_ been enabled to do this hitherto, and he would still; God
helping him.

CHAPTER LXXXIV.

GOING TO THE BALL.

It was the day of the _fete_ at Deerham Hall. Sibylla awoke in an
amiable mood, unusually so for her; and Lionel, as he dressed, talked to
her gravely and kindly, urging upon her the necessity of relinquishing
her determination to be present. It appeared that she was also
reasonable that morning, as well as amiable, for she listened to him,
and at length voluntarily said she would think no more about it.

"But you must afford me some treat in place of it," she immediately
added. "Will you promise to take me for a whole day next week to
Heartburg?"

"Willingly," replied Lionel. "There is to be a morning concert at
Heartburg next Tuesday. If you feel well enough, we can attend that."

He did not think morning concerts, and the fatigue they sometimes
entail, particularly desirable things for his wife; but, compared with
hot ballrooms and the night air, they seemed innocuous. Sibylla liked
morning concerts uncommonly, nearly as much as Master Cheese liked
tarts; she liked anything that afforded an apology for dress and
display.

"Mind, Lionel, you _promise_ to take me," she reiterated.

"Yes. Provided you feel equal to going."

Sibylla took breakfast in her own room, according to custom. Formerly,
she had done so through idleness: now, she was really not well enough to
rise early. Lionel, when he joined the family breakfast table, announced
the news; announced it in his own characteristic manner.

"Sibylla thinks, after all, that she will be better