The clock of St John's struck four, and Sybil became anxious;
the clock of St John's struck five, and Sybil became
disquieted; restless and perturbed, she was walking up and
down the chamber, her books long since thrown aside, when the
clock of St John's struck six.
She clasped her hands and looked up to heaven. There was a
knock at the street door; she herself sprang out to open it.
It was not Gerard. It was Morley.
"Ah! Stephen," said Sybil, with a countenance of undisguised
disappointment, "I thought it was my father."
"I should have been glad to have found him here," said Morley.
"However with your permission I will enter."
"And he will soon arrive," said Sybil; "I am sure he will soon
arrive. I have been expecting him every minute--"
"For hours," added Morley, finishing her sentence, as they
entered the room. "The business that he is on," he continued,
throwing himself into a chair with a recklessness very unlike
his usual composure and even precision, "The business that he
is on is engrossing."
"Thank Heaven," said Sybil, "we leave this place to-morrow."
"Hah!" said Morley starting, "who told you so?"
"My father has so settled it; has indeed promised me that we
shall depart.
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