o artist ever truly caught. Midsummer warmth and ripeness brooded in
the verdure of field and forest. Wafts of fragrance went wandering by
from new-mown meadows and gardens full of bloom. All the sky wore its
serenest blue, and up the river came frolic winds, ruffling the lily
leaves until they showed their purple linings, sweeping shadowy ripples
through the long grass, and lifting the locks from Sylvia's forehead
with a grateful touch, as she sat softly swaying with the swaying of the
boat. Slowly they drifted out into the current, slowly Warwick cleft the
water with reluctant stroke, and slowly Sylvia's mind woke from its
trance of dreamy delight, as with a gesture of assent she said--

"Yes, I am ready now. That was a happy little moment, and I am glad to
have lived it, for such times return to refresh me when many a more
stirring one is quite forgotten." A moment after she added, eagerly, as
a new object of interest appeared: "Mr. Warwick, I see smoke. I know
there is a wood on fire; I want to see it; please land again."

He glanced over his shoulder at the black cloud trailing away before the
wind, saw Sylvia's desire in her face, and silently complied; for being
a keen student of character, he was willing to prolong an interview that
gave him glimpses of a nature in which the woman and the child were
curiously blended.

"I love fire, and that must be a grand one, if we could only see it
well. This bank is not high enough; let us go nearer and enjoy it," said
Sylvia, finding that an orchard and a knoll or two intercepted the view
of the burning wood.

"It is too far."

"Not at all. I am no helpless, fine lady. I can walk, run, and climb
like any boy; so you need have no fears for me. I may never see such a
sight again, and you know you'd go if you were alone. Please come, Mr.
Warwick."

"I promised Mark to take care of you, and for the very reason that you
love fire, I'd rather not take you into that furnace, lest you never
come out again. Let us go back immediately."

The decision of his tone ruffled Sylvia, and she turned wilful at once,
saying in a tone as decided as his own--

"No; I wish to see it. I am always allowed to do what I wish, so I shall
go;" with which mutinous remark she walked straight away towards the
burning wood.

Warwick looked after her, indulging a momentary desire to carry her back
to the boat, like a naughty child. But the resolute aspect of the figure
going on before him, conv