LILY HERBERT had accepted her fate—one must, no matter how rebellious the heart may be. The days were long and black and endless; the nights were worse, and full of spectres. The path of life behind her shone with the brilliancy of past happiness, which is often imaginary; before her the path was dark, with the gloom of hopelessness and despair.
Sylvia’s sympathy was a light to her. They frequently talked about Launa. How happy she was! How fortunate! Loved by the gods and by men. The love of men they put last; it was first in both their minds. The love of the gods is death, the love of man life. They had both wilfully thrown it away.
“Once he told me I should live with him as his sister,” said Sylvia. “I hated him for it. I would have been his mistress, but not his sister. He was too good, and I was willing to risk all for him. He gave me credit for so much goodness.”
“Why did you not try it?” asked Lily. “Men do not care for the brotherly pose very long. Their resolutions are momentary.”
Sylvia looked at her. _Then_ she had felt sure men mean what they say after they have said it, as well as while they are saying it—she had changed her mind now.
“I see,” she replied, “and it is too late.”
There was a pause for some moments. Each woman was thinking of those things which usually intrude only at night, and which we push into their corner and avoid contemplating as much as possible.
“Launa is an angel,” said Lily. “She has been so good to me.”
“She has never loved any one,” said Sylvia.
“She would probably have married the other man for money, if she had,” said Lily.
“Her well-regulated affection for Mr. Wainbridge is like her engagement ring. A diamond between two sapphires—neat and even. Have you ever seen my locket?”
“No. I cannot help thinking, Sylvia, he meant to come back. He sent me a present on my birthday, a little locket of pearls. He would not have sent pearls if he thought me—bad—would he? Oh, Sylvia, how lovely!”
Sylvia had unbuttoned her dress and pulled out a locket. It was an opal in the shape of a heart, surrounded by diamonds. It gleamed and glowed with an unearthly radiance. It seemed a living thing emitting sparks of fire.
“It knew when he was dying, and grew so dull and pale. Now it burns brighter than ever.”