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 annihilated. I sat and watched. Presently a door opened,
and Sylvia came out.
Now I rose to my feet. I must go to her. It might not be honorable to
take her at this disadvantage, but there are moments when even honor
must wait for a decision upon its case. However, there was no necessity
for my going to Sylvia; she was coming to me.
As she walked directly to the spot where I stood, I saw Sylvia as I had
seen her in my day-dreams,--a beautiful girl, dressed as a beautiful
girl should dress in summer time. In one hand she carried a portfolio,
in the other a little leathern case. As she came nearer, I saw that she
was attired exactly as Mother Anastasia had been dressed when I met her
here. Nearer she came, but still she did not see me.
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