unshine streamed across the room, and early birds piped on
the budding boughs that swayed before the window. But no morning smile
saluted her, no morning flower awaited her, and nothing but a little
note lay on the unpressed pillow at her side.

"Sylvia, I have gone away to Faith, because this proud, resentful spirit
of mine must be subdued before I meet you. I leave that behind me which
will speak to you more kindly, calmly than I can now, and show you that
my effort has been equal to my failure. There is nothing for me to do
but submit; manfully if I must, meekly if I can; and this short exile
will prepare me for the longer one to come. Take counsel with those
nearer and dearer to you than myself, and secure the happiness which I
have so ignorantly delayed, but cannot wilfully destroy. God be with
you, and through all that is and is to come, remember that you remain
beloved forever in the heart of Geoffrey Moor."

Sylvia had known many sad uprisings, but never a sadder one than this,
and the hours that followed aged her more than any year had done. All
day she wandered aimlessly to and fro, for the inward conflict would not
let her rest. The house seemed home no longer when its presiding genius
was gone, and everywhere some token of his former presence touched her
with its mute reproach.

She asked no counsel of her family, for well she knew the outburst of
condemnation, incredulity, and grief that would assail her there. They
could not help her yet; they would only augment perplexities, weaken
convictions, and distract her mind. When she was sure of herself she
would tell them, endure their indignation and regret, and steadily
execute the new purpose, whatever it should be.

To many it might seem an easy task to break the bond that burdened and
assume the tie that blessed. But Sylvia had grown wise in
self-knowledge, timorous through self-delusion; therefore the greater
the freedom given her the more she hesitated to avail herself of it. The
nobler each friend grew as she turned from one to the other, the more
impossible seemed the decision, for generous spirit and loving heart
contended for the mastery, yet neither won. She knew that Moor had put
her from him never to be recalled till some miracle was wrought that
should make her truly his. This renunciation showed her how much he had
become to her, how entirely she had learned to lean upon him, and how
great a boon such perfect love was in itself. Even the prosp