exclaimed, in a trembling voice, "Best of friends, I must
leave Mowedale."

"I am very sorry," said Gerard; "and when?"

"Now," said Egremont.

"Now!" said Sybil.

"Yes; this instant. My summons is urgent. I ought to have
left this morning. I came here then to bid you farewell," he
said looking at Sybil, "to express to you how deeply I was
indebted to you for all your goodness--how dearly I shall
cherish the memory of these happy days--the happiest I have
ever known;" and his voice faltered. "I came also to leave a
kind message for you, my friend, a hope that we might meet
again and soon--but your daughter was absent, and I could not
leave Mowedale without seeing either of you. So I must
contrive to get on through the night."

"Well we lose a very pleasant neighbour," said Gerard; "we
shall miss you, I doubt not, eh, Sybil?"

But Sybil had turned away her head; she was leaning over and
seemed to be caressing Harold and was silent.

How much Egremont would have liked to have offered or invited
correspondence; to have proffered his services when the
occasion permitted; to have said or proposed many things that
might have cherished their acquaintance or friendship; but