friend who loves and honors you for this. I will
tell you what Adam did and said. He sat in deep thought many minutes;
but with him to see is to do, and soon he turned to me with the
courageous expression which in him signifies that the fight is fought,
the victory won. 'It is necessary to be just, it is not necessary to be
happy. I shall never marry Sylvia, even if I may,'--and with that
paraphrase of words, whose meaning seemed to fit his need, he went away.
I think he will not come again either to me--or you."

How still the room grew as Faith's reluctant lips uttered the last
words! Sylvia sat motionless looking out into the sunny valley, with
eyes that saw nothing but the image of that beloved friend leaving her
perhaps forever. Well she knew that with this man to see _was_ to do,
and with a woeful sense of desolation falling cold upon her heart, she
felt that there was nothing more to hope for but a brave submission like
his own. Yet in that pause there came a feeling of relief after the
first despair. The power of choice was no longer left her, and the help
she needed was bestowed by one who could decide against himself,
inspired by a sentiment which curbed a strong man's love of power, and
made it subject to a just man's love of right. Great examples never lose
their virtue; what Pompey was to Warwick that Warwick became to Sylvia,
and in the moment of supremest sorrow she felt the fire of a noble
emulation kindling within her from the spark he left behind.

"Faith, what comes next?"

"This," and she was gathered close while Faith confessed how hard her
task had been by letting tears fall fast upon the head which seemed to
have found its proper resting-place, as if despite her courage and her
wisdom the woman's heart was half broken with its pity. Better than any
words was the motherly embrace, the silent shower, the blessed balm of
sympathy which soothed the wounds it could not heal. Leaning against
each other the two hearts talked together in the silence, feeling the
beauty of the tie kind Nature weaves between the hearts that should be
knit. Faith often turned her lips to Sylvia's forehead, brushed back her
hair with a lingering touch, and drew her nearer as if it was very
pleasant to see and feel the little creature in her arms. Sylvia lay
there, tearless and tranquil; thinking thoughts for which she had no
words, and trying to prepare herself for the life to come, a life that
now looked very desolate. Her