speak, "And wherefore not, Master
Alwyn?"

Alwyn so interpreted the look, and replied, as if she had spoken:
"Because he must know how poor and tame is that feeble fantasy which
alone can come from a soul worn bare with pleasure, to that which I
feel and now own for thee,--the love of youth, born of the heart's first
vigour; because he ought to fear that that love should prevail with
thee; because that love ought to prevail. Sibyll, between us there are
not imparity and obstacle. Oh, listen to me,--listen still! Frown not,
turn not away." And, stung and animated by the sight of his rival, fired
by the excitement of a contest on which the bliss of his own life and
the weal of Sibyll's might depend, his voice was as the cry of a mortal
agony, and affected the girl to the inmost recesses of her soul. "Oh,
Alwyn, I frown not!" she said sweetly; "oh, Alwyn, I turn not away! Woe
is me to give pain to so kind and brave a heart; but--"

"No, speak not yet. I have studied thee, I have read thee as a scholar
would read a book. I know thee proud; I know thee aspiring; I know thou
art vain of thy gentle blood, and distasteful of my yeoman's birth.
There, I am not blind to thy faults, but I love thee despite them; and
to please those faults I have toiled, schemed, dreamed, risen. I offer
to thee the future with the certainty of a man who can command it.
Wouldst thou wealth?--be patient (as ambition ever is): in a few years
thou shalt have more gold than the wife of Lord Hastings can command;
thou shalt lodge more statelily, fare more sumptuously; [This was no
vain promise of Master Alwyn. At that time a successful trader made a
fortune with signal rapidity, and enjoyed greater luxuries than most of
the barons. All the gold in the country flowed into the coffers of
the London merchants.] thou shalt walk on cloth-of-gold if thou wilt!
Wouldst thou titles?--I will win them. Richard de la Pole, who founded
the greatest duchy in the realm, was poorer than I, when he first served
in a merchant's ware. Gold buys all things now. Oh, would to Heaven it
could but buy me thee!"

"Master Alwyn, it is not gold that buys love. Be soothed. What can I say
to thee to soften the harsh word 'Nay'?"

"You reject me, then, and at once? I ask not your hand now. I will wait,
tarry, hope,--I care not if for years; wait till I can fulfil all I
promise thee!"

Sibyll, affected to tears, shook her head mournfully; and there was a
long and painful silenc