‘Let us think of it more quietly,’ said Sylvia, in her clear, dispassionate tones.  ’You speak as though a decision must be taken at once.  Where is the necessity for that?  Mr. Peak is now independent.  Suppose a year or two be allowed to pass, may not things look differently?’

‘A year or two!’ exclaimed Sidwell, with impatience.  ’Nothing will be changed.  What I have to contend against is unchangeable.  If I guide myself by such a hope as that, the only reasonable thing would be for me to write to Mr. Peak, and ask him to wait until my father and mother are dead.’

’Very well.  On that point we are at rest, then.  The step must be taken at once, or never.’

The wind roared, and for some minutes no other sound wasaudible.  By this, all the inmates of the house save the two friends were in bed, and most likely sleeping.

‘You must think it strange,’ said Sidwell, ’that I have chosen to tell you all this, just when the confession is most humiliating to me.  I want to feel the humiliation, as one only can when another is witness of it.  I wish to leave myself no excuse for the future.’

’I’m not sure that I quite understand you.  You have made up your mind to break with him?’

‘Because I am a coward.’

’If my feeling in any matter were as strong as that, I should allow it to guide me.’

’Because your will is stronger.  You, Sylvia, would never (in my position) have granted him that second interview.  You would have known that all was at an end, and have acted upon the knowledge.  I knew it, but yielded to temptation—­at his expense.  I could not let him leave me, though that would have been kindest.  I held him by a promise, basely conscious that retreat was always open to me.  And now I shall have earned his contempt’——­

Her voice failed.  Sylvia, affected by the outbreak of emotion in one whom she had always known so strong in self-command, spoke with a deeper earnestness.

’Dear, do you wish me to help you against what you call your cowardice?  I cannot take it upon me to encourage you until your own will has spoken.  The decision must come from yourself.  Choose what course you may, I am still your friend.  I have no idle prejudices, and no social bonds.  You know how I wish you to come away with me; now I see only more clearly how needful it is for you to breathe new air.  Yes, you have outgrown these conditions, just as your brothers have, just as Fanny will—­indeed has.  Take to-night to think of it.  If you can decide to travel with me for a year, be frank with Mr Peak, and ask him to wait so long—­till you have made up your mind.  He cannot reasonably find fault with you, for he knows all you have to consider.  Won’t this be best?’

Sidwell was long silent.

‘I will go with you,’ she said at last, in a low voice.  ’I will ask him to grant me perfect liberty for a year.’

When she came down next morning it was Sidwell’s intention to seek a private interview with her father, and make known her resolve to go abroad with Sylvia; but Mr. Warricombe anticipated her.