"Nothing is changed. Adam is all he ever was to me, you are all you ever can be; but I—"
"Then why send for me? Why say you will stay with me all your life? Sylvia, for God's sake, let there be no more delusion or deceit!"
"Never again! I will tell you; I meant to do it at once, but it is so hard—"
She turned her face away, and for a moment neither stirred. Then drawing his head to its former resting-place she touched it very tenderly, seeing how many white threads shone among the brown; and as her hand went to and fro with an inexpressibly soothing gesture, she said, in a tone whose quietude controlled his agitation like a spell—
"Long ago, in my great trouble, Faith told me that for every human effort or affliction there were two friendly helpers, Time and Death. The first has taught me more gently than I deserved; has made me humble, and given me hope that through my errors I may draw virtue from repentance. But while I have been learning the lessons time can teach, that other helper has told me to be ready for its coming. Geoffrey, I sent for you because I knew you would love to see me again before we must say the long good by."
"Oh, Sylvia! not that; anything but that. I cannot bear it now!"
"Dear heart, be patient; lean on me, and let me help you bear it, for it is inevitable."
"It shall not be! There must be some help, some hope. God would not be so pitiless as to take both."
"I shall not leave you yet. He does not take me; it is I, who, by wasting life, have lost the right to live."
"But is it so? I cannot make it true. You look so beautiful, so blooming, and the future seemed so sure. Sylvia, show it to me, if it must be."