"
"Sylvia," I gasped, "you cannot keep this vow. When you made it you did
not know I loved you. It cannot hold. It must be set aside."
She looked at me for a moment, and then her eyes again fell. "Do not
speak in that way," she said; "it is not right. Of course I was not sure
that you loved me, but I suspected it, and this was the very reason why
I took my vow."
"It is plain, then," I exclaimed bitterly, "that you did not love me;
otherwise you would never have done that!"
"Don't you think," said she, "that considering the sisterhood to which I
belong, we have already talked too much about that?"
If she had exhibited the least emotion, I think I should have burst out
into supplications that she would take the advice of her Mother
Superior; that she would listen to her friends; that she would do
anything, in fact, which would cause her to reconsider this step, which
condemned me to misery and her to a life for which she was totally
unfitted,--a career in her case of such sad misuse of every attribute of
mind and body that it wrung my heart to think of it. But she stood so
quiet, so determined, and with an air of such gentle firmness that words
seemed useless. In truth, they would not come to me. She opened her
portfolio.
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