It is a power at once
malevolent and beautiful. A secret like that of David and Hylda will do
in a day what a score of years could not accomplish, will insinuate
confidences which might never be given to the nearest or dearest. In
neither was any feeling of the heart begotten by their experiences; and
yet they had gone deeper in each other's lives than any one either had
known in a lifetime. They had struck a deeper note than love or
friendship. They had touched the chord of a secret and mutual experience
which had gone so far that their lives would be influenced by it for ever
after. Each understood this in a different way.
Hylda looked towards the letter lying on the table. It had raised in her
mind, not a doubt, but an undefined, undefinable anxiety. He saw the
glance, and said: "I was writing to one who has been as a sister to me.
She was my mother's sister though she is almost as young as I. Her name
is Faith. There is nothing there of what concerns thee and me, though it
would make no difference if she knew." Suddenly a thought seemed to
strike him.
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