"Papa made me. He did, indeed."
"_He_ made you! Dr. West?"
"I liked Frederick a little. Yes, I did; I will not deny it. And oh, how
he loved me! All the while, Lionel, that you hovered near me--never
speaking, never saying that you loved--he told me of it incessantly."
"Stay, Sibylla. You could not have mistaken me."
"True. Yours was silent love; his was urgent. When it came to the
decision, and he asked me to marry him, and to go out to Australia, then
papa interfered. He suspected that I cared for you--that you cared for
me; and he--he--"
Sibylla stopped and hesitated.
"Must I tell you all?" she asked. "Will you never, never repeat it to
papa, or reproach him? Will you let it remain a secret between us?"
"I will, Sibylla. I will never speak upon the point to Dr. West."
"Papa said that I must choose Frederick Massingbird. He told me that
Verner's Pride was left to Frederick, and he ordered me to marry him. He
did not say how he knew, it--how he heard it; he only said that it was
so. He affirmed that you were cut off with nothing, or next to nothing;
that you would not be able to take a wife for years--perhaps never.
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