been
fishing," I answered. "I have been dictating my story to my nun."

The rod dropped from the relaxed fingers of my under-study, and he stood
blankly staring at me, and waiting for an explanation. I gave it.

Depressed as I was, I could not help feeling interested in the variety
of expressions which passed over Walkirk's face, as I related what had
happened since I had seen him. When I told him how near we were to our
old camp on the Sand Lady's island, he was simply amazed; his
astonishment, when he heard of the appearance of Sylvia on the scene,
was almost overpowered by his amusement, as I related how she and I had
continued the story of Tomaso and Lucilla, in the shade of the tree. But
when I informed him of Sylvia's determination to devote her life to the
work of the House of Martha, without regard to what I told her of my
love, he was greatly moved, and I am sure sincerely grieved.

"This is too bad, too bad," he said. "I did not expect it."

"Miss Raynor is young," I answered, "but the strength and integrity of
her soul are greater, and her devotion to what she believes her duty is
stronger, than I supposed. Her character is marked by a simple sincerity
and a noble dignity which I have never seen surpassed. I think that she
positively dislikes the life of the sisterhood, but, having devoted
herself to it, she will stand firmly by her resolutions and her promise
no matter what happens. As regards myself, I do not suppose that her
knowledge of my existence has any influence on her, one way or the
other. I may have interested and amused her, but that is all. If I had
finished the Italian love-story I had been telling her, I think she
would have been satisfied never to see me again."

Walkirk shook his head. "I do not believe that," he said; "her
determination to rivet the bonds which hold her to her sisterhood shows
that she was afraid of her interest in you; and if it gave her reason to
fear, it gives you reason to hope."

"Put that in the past tense, please," I replied; "whatever it may have
given, it gives nothing now. To hope would be absurd."

"Mr. Vanderley," exclaimed Walkirk, "I would not give up in that way. I
am certain, from what I know, that Miss Raynor's interest in you is
plain not only to herself, but to her family and friends; and I tell
you, sir, that sort of interest cannot be extinguished by promises and
resolutions. If I were you, I would keep up the fight. She is not yet a
vowed siste