topics, and was soon deep in an art discussion with Mark and Miss Dane,
while Prue and Jessie chatted away on that safe subject, dress. But
Sylvia worked silently, and Warwick still leaned there watching the busy
hand as if he saw something more than a pretty contrast between the
white fingers and the scarlet silk.

When the other guests had left, and Faith and himself had gone to their
rooms, Warwick, bent on not passing another sleepless night full of
unprofitable longings, went down again to get a book. The library was
still lighted, and standing there alone he saw Sylvia, wearing an
expression that startled him. Both hands pushed back and held her hair
away as if she scorned concealment from herself. Her eyes seemed fixed
with a despairing glance on some invisible disturber of her peace. All
the light and color that made her beautiful were gone, leaving her face
worn and old, and the language of both countenance and attitude was that
of one suddenly confronted with some hard fact, some heavy duty, that
must be accepted and performed.

This revelation lasted but a moment, Moor's step came down the hall, the
hair fell, the anguish passed, and nothing but a wan and weary face
remained. But Warwick had seen it, and as he stole away unperceived he
pressed his hands together, saying mournfully within himself, "I was
mistaken. God help us all."

CHAPTER XVI.

IN THE TWILIGHT.

If Sylvia needed another trial to make that hard week harder, it soon
came to her in the knowledge that Warwick watched her. She well knew
why, and vainly endeavored to conceal from him that which she had
succeeded in concealing entirely from others. But he possessed the key
to her variable moods; he alone knew that now painful forethought, not
caprice dictated many of her seeming whims, and ruled her simplest
action. To others she appeared busy, gay, and full of interest in all
about her; to him, the industry was a preventive of forbidden thoughts;
the gayety a daily endeavor to forget; the interest, an anxiety
concerning the looks and words of her companions, because she must guard
her own.

Sylvia felt something like terror in the presence of this penetrating
eye, this daring will, for the vigilance was unflagging and unobtrusive,
and with all her efforts she could not read his heart as she felt her
own was being read. Adam could act no part, but bent on learning the
truth for the sake of all, he surmounted the dangers of the situat