ssionate yearning in this direction, I
felt that what I had done and attempted to say when I had parted from my
secretary made it obligatory on me, as a man of honor, to say more, the
moment I should be able to do so.
Now the opportunity had come; now we were alone together, and I was able
to pour out before her the burning words which so often, in my hours of
reverie, had crowded themselves upon my mind. The fates had favored me
as I had had no reason to expect to be favored, but I took no advantage
of this situation. I spoke no word of love. I cannot say that Sylvia's
demeanor cooled my affection, but I can say that it cooled my desire for
instantaneous expression of it. After her first moments of astonishment,
her mind seemed entirely occupied with the practical unraveling of the
problem of our meeting. I endeavored to make this appear a very
commonplace affair. It was quite natural that my companion and I should
come together to a region which he had before visited.
"Yes," said she, "I suppose all out-of-the-way things can be made
commonplace, if one reasons long enough. As for me, of course it is
quite natural that, needing a change from the House of Martha, I should
come to my mother's island."
"Your mother!" I stammered.
"Yes," she answered. "Mrs. Raynor, who spends her summers in that house
over there, is my mother. Her brother is here, too, and she has some
friends with her. Mother Anastasia was away recently on a little jaunt,
and when she came back she said that I looked tired and wan, and that I
ought to go to my mother's for a fortnight. So I came. That was all
simple enough, you see."
Simple enough! Could anything be more extraordinary, more enigmatical? I
did not know what to say, what course to pursue; but in the midst of my
surprise I had sense enough to see that, until I knew more, the less I
said the better. Sylvia did not know that I had visited her mother's
island and her mother's house. It is possible that she did not know that
Mother Anastasia had been here. I must decide whether or not I would
enlighten her on these points. My disposition was to be perfectly open
and frank with her, and to be thus I must enlighten her. But I waited,
and in answer to her statement merely told her how glad I was that she
had a vacation and such a delightful place to come to. She did not
immediately reply, but stood looking past me over the little vale beyond
us.
"Well, here I am," she said presently, "
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