Without a word he turned, hastened down the stairs, ran through the
castle yard, out at the gate, and, entering the gardens between the wall
and the inner stockade, made for the arbour on the terrace where the
drama had been enacted. Aurora was not there; but as he looked round,
disappointed, she came from the Filbert walk, and, taking his arm, led
him to the arbour. They sat down without a word. In a moment she placed
her head upon his shoulder; he did not respond. She put her arm (how
warm it felt!) about his neck; he yielded stiffly and ungraciously to
the pressure; she drew down his head, and kissed him. His lips touched
but did not press hers; they met, but did not join. In his sullen and
angry silence he would not look. She drew still nearer, and whispered
his name.

Then he broke out: he pushed her away; his petty jealousy and injured
self-esteem poured out upon her.

"I am not the heir to an earldom," he said; "I do not ride with a score
of gentlemen at my back. They have some wonderful diamonds, have they
not--_Countess?_"

"Felix!"

"It is no use. Yes, your voice is sweet, I know. But you, all of you,
despise me. I am nothing, no one!"

"You are all, _everything_, to me."

"You were with--with Durand the whole time."