Standing ready to drop her work at a sound, Sylvia snatched a brief satisfaction which solaced her more than an hour of idle lamentation, and as she kissed the glove with a long, sad kiss, and put it down with eyes that dimly saw where it should be, perhaps there went as much real love and sorrow into that little act as ever glorified some greater deed. Then she went to lie in the "Refuge," as she had named an ancient chair, with her head on its embracing arm. Not weeping, but quietly watching the flicker of the fire, which filled the room with warm duskiness, making the twilight doubly pleasant, till a sudden blaze leaped up, showing her that her watch was over and Warwick come. She had not heard him enter, but there he was close before her, his face glowing with the frosty air, his eye clear and kind, and in his aspect that nameless charm which won for him the confidence of whosoever read his countenance. Scarce knowing why, Sylvia felt reassured that all was well, and looked up with more welcome in her heart than she dared betray in words. "Come at last! where have you been so long, Adam?" "Round the Island I suspect, for I lost my way, and had no guide but instinct to lead me home again. I like to say that word, for though it is not home it seems so to me now. May I sit here before I go, and warm myself at your fire, Sylvia?" Sure of his answer he established himself on the stool at her feet, stretched his hands to the grateful blaze, and went on with some inward resolution lending its power and depth to his voice. "I had a question to settle with myself and went to find my best counsellors in the wood. Often when I am harassed by some perplexity or doubt to which I can find no wise or welcome answer, I walk myself into a belief that it will come; then it appears. I stoop to break a handsome flower, to pick up a cone, or watch some little creature happier than I, and there lies my answer, like a good luck penny, ready to my hand." "Faith has gone, but Geoffrey hopes to keep you for another week," said Sylvia, ignoring the unsafe topic. "Shall he have his wish?" "Faith expects you to follow her." "And you think I ought?" "I think you will." "When does the next boat leave?" "An hour hence." "I'll wait for it here. Did I wake you coming in?" "I was not asleep; only lazy, warm, and quiet." "And deadly tired;--dear soul, how can it be otherwise, leading the life you lead." There was such compassion in his voice, such affection in his eye, such fostering kindliness in the touch of the hand he laid upon her own, that Sylvia cried within herself,--"Oh, if Geoffrey would only come!" and hoping for that help to save her from herself, she hastily replied-- "You are mistaken, Adam,--my life is easier than I deserve,--my husband makes me very--" "Miserable,--the truth to me, Sylvia." Warwick rose as he spoke, closed the door and came back wearing an expression which caused her to start up with a gesture of entreaty--