asy. Sylvia was here.

XXXI.

TAKING UP UNFINISHED WORK.

My reasons for believing that Sylvia was on this island were
circumstantial, it is true, but to me they were entirely conclusive, and
the vehement desire of my soul was to hasten to the house and ask to see
her. But I did not feel at all sure that this would be the right thing
to do. The circumstances of this case were unusual. Sylvia was a sister
of a religious house. It was not customary for gentlemen to call upon
such sisters, and the lady who was the temporary custodian of this one
might resent such an attempt.

It was, however, impossible for me entirely to restrain my impulses, and
without knowing exactly what I intended to do I advanced toward the
house. Very soon I saw its chimneys above the trees which partly
surrounded it. Then, peeping under cover of a thicket, I went still
nearer, so that, if there had been any people in the surrounding
grounds, I could have seen them; but I saw no one, and I sat down on a
log and waited. It shamed me to think that I was secretly watching a
house, but despite the shame I continued to sit and watch.

There was the flutter of drapery on a little porch. My heart beat
quickly, my eyes were fixed upon the spot; but nothing appeared except a
maid who brought out some towels, which she hung on a bush to dry. Then
again I watched and watched.

After a time four people came out from the house, two of them carrying
colored parasols. I knew them instantly. There was the Middle-Aged Man
of the Sea, and his friend the Shell Man; and there was the Sand Lady,
and my enemy who called herself a Person. They went off toward the
little pier. Sylvia was not with them, nor did she join them. They
entered their boat and sailed away. They were going fishing, as was
their custom. The fact that Sylvia was not with them, and that no one of
them had stayed behind to keep her company, caused my heart to fall. In
cases like mine, it takes very little to make the heart fall. The
thought forced itself into my mind that perhaps, after all, I had seen a
vision, and had been building theories on dreams.

Suddenly the shutter of an upper window opened, and I saw Sylvia!

It was truly Sylvia. She was dressed in white, not gray. Her hair was
massed upon her head. There was no gray bonnet. She looked up at the
sky, then at the trees, and withdrew.

My heart was beating as fast as it pleased. My face was glowing, and
shame had been annih