"You have had one of those attacks. Why did you not call me? I will bring you some wine."
"No; only let me go away as soon as possible. Oh! I am ashamed of my weakness."
She rose, and her pale lips writhed as her sad eyes wandered in a farewell glance around the room.
She put the unsealed note in Mrs. Murray's hand, and turned toward the door.
"Edna! My daughter! you have not refused St. Elmo's request?"
"My mother! Pity me! I could not grant it."
CHAPTER XXXIII.
"They have come. I hear Gertrude's birdish voice."
The words had scarcely passed Mr. Hammond's lips ere his niece bounded into the room, followed by her husband.
Edna was sitting on the chintz-covered lounge, mending a basketful of the old man's clothes that needed numerous stitches and buttons, and, throwing aside her sewing materials, she rose to meet the travellers.