panic-stricken sight. A sense of utter helplessness
fell on her, courage deserted her, pride changed to fear, defiance to
despair; as the flush faded, the fugitive glance was arrested and the
upturned face became a pale blank, ready to receive the answer that
strong scrutiny was slowly bringing to the light, as invisible
characters start out upon a page when fire passes over them. Neither
spoke, but soon through all opposing barriers the magnetism of an
indomitable will drew forth the truth, set free the captive passion pent
so long, and wrung from those reluctant lineaments a full confession of
that power which heaven has gifted with eternal youth.

The instant this assurance was his own beyond a doubt, Warwick released
her, snatched up his hat, and hurrying down the path vanished in the
wood. Spent as with an hour's excitement, and bewildered by emotions
which she could no longer master, Sylvia lingered in the grape walk till
her husband called her. Then hastily refilling her basket, she shook her
hair about her face and went to bid Faith good by. Moor was to accompany
her to the city, and they left early, that Faith might pause for adieux
to Mark and Prudence.

"Where is Adam? Has he gone before, or been inveigled into staying?"

Moor spoke to Sylvia, but busied in fastening the basket-lid, she seemed
not to hear, and Faith replied for her.

"He will take a later boat, we need not wait for him."

When Faith embraced Sylvia, all the coldness had melted from her manner,
and her voice was tender as a mother's as she whispered low in her ear--

"Dear child, if ever you need any help that Geoffrey cannot give,
remember cousin Faith."

For two hours Sylvia sat alone, not idle, for in the first real solitude
she had enjoyed for seven days she looked deeply into herself, and
putting by all disguises owned the truth, and resolved to repair the
past if possible, as Faith had counselled in the case which she had now
made her own. Like so many of us, Sylvia often saw her errors too late
to avoid committing them, and failing to do the right thing at the right
moment, kept herself forever in arrears with that creditor who must
inevitably be satisfied. She had been coming to this decision all that
weary week, and these quiet hours left her both resolute and resigned.

As she sat there while the early twilight began to gather, her eye often
turned to Warwick's travelling bag, which Faith, having espied it ready
in his chamb