-

'I _must_ tell you! I can't keep it in my own mind, and you are the
only one'----

Sylvia was surprised at the agitation which suddenly revealed itself in
her companion's look and voice. She became serious, her eyes
brightening with intellectual curiosity. Feminine expressions of
sympathy were not to be expected from Miss Moorhouse; far more
reassuring to Sidwell was the kind attentiveness with which her friend
bent forward.

'That letter father handed me to-day was from Mr. Peak.'

'You hear from him?'

'This is the third time--since he went away. At our last meeting'--her
voice dropped--'I pledged my faith to him.--Not absolutely. The future
was too uncertain'----

The gleam in Sylvia's eyes grew more vivid. She was profoundly
interested, and did not speak when Sidwell's voice failed.

'You never suspected this?' asked the latter, in a few moments.

'Not exactly that. What I did suspect was that Mr. Peak's departure
resulted from--your rejection of him.'

'There is more to be told,' pursued Sidwell, in tremulous accents. 'You
must know it all--because I need your help. No one here has learnt what
took place between us. Mr. Peak did not go away on that account.
But--you remember being puzzled to explain his orthodoxy in religion?'

She paused. Sylvia gave a nod, signifying much.

'He never believed as he professed,' went on Sidwell, hurriedly. 'You
were justified in doubting him. He concealed the truth--pretended to
champion the old faiths'----

For an instant she broke off, then hastened through a description of
the circumstances which had brought about Peak's discovery. Sylvia
could not restrain a smile, but it was softened by the sincere
kindliness of her feeling.

'And it was after this,' she inquired impartially, 'that the decisive
conversation between you took place?'

'No; just before Buckland's announcement. We met again, after
that.--Does it seem incredible to you that I should have let the second
meeting end as it did?'

'I think I understand. Yes, I know you well enough to follow it. I can
even guess at the defence he was able to urge.'

'You can?' asked Sidwell, eagerly. 'You see a possibility of his
defending himself?'

'I should conjecture that it amounted to the old proverb, "All's fair
in love and war". And, putting aside a few moral prejudices, one can
easily enough absolve him.--The fact is, I had long ago surmised that
his motives in taking to such a career had more referenc