a woman's, she also knew that
the discovery of her love for Adam, innocent as it had been,
self-denying as it tried to be, would forever mar the beauty of his
wedded life for Moor. No hour of it would seem sacred, no act, look, or
word of hers entirely his own, nor any of the dear delights of home
remain undarkened by the shadow of his friend. She could not speak yet,
and turning her eyes to the fire, she asked--

"Why study me? Have you no better book?"

"None that I love to read so well or have such need to understand;
because, though nearest and dearest as you are to me, I seem to know you
less than any friend I have. I do not wish to wound you, dear, nor be
exacting; but since we were married you have grown more shy than ever,
and the act which should have drawn us tenderly together seems to have
estranged us. You never talk now of yourself, or ask me to explain the
working of that busy mind of yours; and lately you have sometimes
shunned me, as if solitude were pleasanter than my society. Is it,
Sylvia?"

"Sometimes; I always liked to be alone, you know."

She answered as truly as she could, feeling that his love demanded every
confidence but the one cruel one which would destroy its peace past
help.

"I knew I had a most tenacious heart, but I hoped it was not a selfish
one," he sorrowfully said. "Now I see that it is, and deeply regret that
my hopeful spirit, my impatient love, has brought disappointment to us
both. I should have waited longer, should have been less confident of my
own power to win you, and never let you waste your life in vain
endeavors to be happy when I was not all to you that you expected. I
should not have consented to your wish to spend the winter here so much
alone with me. I should have known that such a quiet home and studious
companion could not have many charms for a young girl like you. Forgive
me, I will do better, and this one-sided life of ours shall be changed;
for while I have been supremely content you have been miserable."

It was impossible to deny it, and with a tearless sob she laid her arm
about his neck, her head on his shoulder, and mutely confessed the truth
of what he said. The trouble deepened in his face, but he spoke out more
cheerfully, believing that he had found the secret sorrow.

"Thank heaven, nothing is past mending, and we will yet be happy. An
entire change shall be made; you shall no longer devote yourself to me,
but I to you. Will you go abroad, a