d cheered, the last cable was flung off, and
the steamer glided from her moorings with the surge of water and the
waft of wind like some sea-monster eager to be out upon the ocean free
again.

"Look up, Sylvia; she will soon pass from sight."

"Are they there?"

"No."

"Then I do not care to see. Look for me, father, and tell me when they
come."

"They will not come, dear; both have said good by, and we have seen the
last of them for many a long day."

"They will come! Adam will bring Geoffrey to show me they are friends
again. I know it; you shall see it. Lift me to that block and watch the
deck with me that we may see them the instant they appear."

Up she sprung, eyes clear now, nerves steady, faith strong. Leaning
forward so utterly forgetful of herself, she would have fallen into the
green water tumbling there below, had not her father held her fast. How
slowly the minutes seemed to pass, how rapidly the steamer seemed to
glide away, how heavily the sense of loss weighed on her heart as wave
after wave rolled between her and her heart's desire.

"Come down, Sylvia, it is giving yourself useless pain to watch and
wait. Come home, my child, and let us comfort one another."

She did not hear him, for as he spoke the steamer swung slowly round to
launch itself into the open bay, and with a cry that drew many eyes upon
the young figure with its face of pale expectancy, Sylvia saw her hope
fulfilled.

"I knew they would come! See, father, see! Geoffrey is smiling as he
waves his handkerchief, and Adam's hand is on his shoulder. Answer them!
oh, answer them! I can only look."

The old man did answer them enthusiastically, and Sylvia stretched her
arms across the widening space as if to bring them back again. Side by
side the friends stood now; Moor's eye upon his wife, while from his
hand the little flag of peace streamed in the wind. But Warwick's glance
was turned upon his friend, and Warwick's hand already seemed to claim
the charge he had accepted.

Standing thus they passed from sight, never to come sailing home
together as the woman on the shore was praying God to let her see them
come.

CHAPTER XIX.

SIX MONTHS.

The ensuing half year seemed fuller of duties and events than any Sylvia
had ever known. At first she found it very hard to live her life alone;
for inward solitude oppressed her, and external trials were not wanting.
Only to the few who had a right to know, had the whole troub