the quiet moon." There had been no change in nature unnoticed or
unbeloved by her. The unbroken silence reigning around her, heightened
by the mute speech between herself and her father, which needed eyes
only, not lips, had grown so familiar as to be almost dear to her, in
spite of her strong delight in fellowship with others. The artistic
temperament she had inherited from her father, which very early took
vivid pleasure in expressing itself in color as well as in form, had
furnished her with an occupation of which she could never tire. As long
as there was light in the sky, long after the sun had gone down, in the
lingering twilight, loath to forsake the uplands, she was at her canvas
catching the soft gray tones, and dim-colored tints, and clearer masses
of foliage, which only the evening could show.

To supply her need of general companionship there had been so full and
satisfying a sense of friendship between herself and the household at
the Old Bank at Riversborough that one day spent with them gave her
thought for a month. Every word uttered by Roland and Felicita was
treasured up in her memory and turned over in her mind for days after.
Madame's simple and cheerful nature made her almost like a mother to the
simple and cheerful country girl; and Felix and Hilda had been objects
of the deepest interest to her from the days of their birth. But it was
Roland, who had known her best and longest, to whom she owed the
direction and cultivation of her tastes and intellect, who had been
almost like a god to her in her childhood; it was he who dominated over
her simple heart the most. He was to Phebe so perfect that she had never
imagined that there could be a fault in him.

There is one token to us that we are meant for a higher and happier life
than this, in the fact that sorrow and sin always come upon us as a
surprise. Happy days do not astonish us, and the goodness of our beloved
ones awakens no amazement. But if a sorrow comes we cry aloud to let our
neighbors know something untoward has befallen us; and if one we love
has sinned, we feel as if the heavens themselves were darkened.

It was so with Phebe Marlowe. All her earthly luminaries, the greater
lights and the lesser lights, were under an eclipse, and a strange
darkness had fallen upon her. For the first time in her life she found
herself brooding over the sin of one who had been her guide, her
dearest friend, her hero. From the time when as a child she h