hat though sorely disappointed and not one whit convinced,
Warwick could only submit to this woman-hearted child, and love her
with redoubled love, both for what she was and what she aspired to be.

"Sylvia, what would you have me do?"

"You must go away, and for a long time, Adam; because when you are near
me my will is swayed by yours, and what you desire I long to give you.
Go quite away, and through Faith you may learn whether I succeed or
fail. It is hard to say this, yet you know it is a truer hospitality in
me to send you from my door than to detain and offer you temptation for
your daily bread."

How strangely Ottila came back to him, and all the scenes he had passed
through with her!--a perilous contrast just then. Yet, despite his pride
in the loving little creature who put him from her that she might be
worthy of him, one irrepressible lament swelled his heart and passed his
lips--

"Ah, Sylvia! I thought that parting on the mountain was the hardest I
could ever know, but this is harder; for now I have but to say come to
me, and you would come."

But the bitter moment had its drop of honey, whose sweetness nourished
him when all else failed. Sylvia answered with a perfect confidence in
that integrity which even her own longing could not bribe--

"Yes, Adam, but you will not say it, because feeling as I feel, you know
I must not come to you."

He did know it, and confessed his submission by folding fast the arms
half opened for her, and standing dumb with the words trembling on his
lips. It was the bravest action of a life full of real valor, for the
sacrifice was not made with more than human fortitude. The man's heart
clamored for its right, patience was weary, hope despaired, and all
natural instincts mutinied against the command that bound them. But no
grain of virtue ever falls wasted to the ground; it drops back upon its
giver a regathered strength, and cannot fail of its reward in some
kindred soul's approval, imitation, or delight. It was so then, as
Sylvia went to him; for though she did not touch nor smile upon him, he
felt her nearness; and the parting assured him that its power bound them
closer than the happiest union. In her face there shone a look half
fervent, half devout, and her voice had no falter in it now.

"You show me what I should be. All my life I have desired strength of
heart and stability of soul; may I not hope to earn for myself a little
of the integrity I love in you? If