m about to make of all
my hopes, at the shrine of my idolatry to you. Bear witness the agony of
this hour. Bear witness the horror of the avowal, that I never can be
yours. As Luke Bradley, I would joyfully--oh, how joyfully!--have been
your bride. As Sir Luke Rookwood"--and she shuddered as she pronounced
the name--"I never can be so."

"Then, by Heaven! Luke Bradley will I remain. But wherefore--wherefore
not as Sir Luke Rookwood?"

"Because," replied Sybil, with reluctance--"because I am no longer your
equal. The gipsy's low-born daughter is no mate for Sir Luke Rookwood.
Love cannot blind me, dear Luke. It cannot make me other than I am; it
cannot exalt me in my own esteem, nor in that of the world, with which
you, alas! too soon will mingle, and which will regard even me as--no
matter what!--it shall not scorn me as your bride. I will not bring
shame and reproach upon you. Oh! if for me, dear Luke, the proud ones of
the earth were to treat you with contumely, this heart would break with
agony. For myself, I have pride sufficient--perchance too much.
Perchance 'tis pride that actuates me now. I know not. But for you I am
all weakness. As you were heretofore, I would have been to you the
tenderest and truest wife that ever breathed; as you are now----"

"Hear me, Sybil."

"Hear _me_ out, dear Luke. One other motive there is that determines my
present conduct, which, were all else surmounted, would in itself
suffice. Ask me not what that is. I cannot explain it. For your own
sake; I implore you, be satisfied with my refusal."

"What a destiny is mine!" exclaimed Luke, striking his forehead with his
clenched hand. "No choice is left me. Either way I destroy my own
happiness. On the one hand stands love--on the other, ambition; yet
neither will conjoin."

"Pursue, then, ambition," said Sybil, energetically, "if you _can_
hesitate. Forget that I have ever existed; forget you have ever loved;
forget that such a passion dwells within the human heart, and you may
still be happy, though you are great."

"And do you deem," replied Luke, with frantic impatience, "that I _can_
accomplish this; that I _can_ forget that I have loved you; that I _can_
forget you? Cost what it will, the effort shall be made. Yet by our
former love, I charge you tell me what has wrought this change in you!
Why do you _now_ refuse me?"

"I have said you are Sir Luke Rookwood," returned Sybil, with painful
emotion. "Does that name import not