"God bless him!" said Edith, as the tears came to her eyes.
"—and you talked to him, Edith, sometimes, and always asked him to come again—"
"—I must have been out of my head."
"Don't you remember it, Edith—any of it, at all?"
"I have a faint recollection of something, which I cannot clearly make out—I know—I know, Star. It has possessed me ever since I saw him—I am not provoked at anything he did, Star."
"But, Edith; Edith, listen," said Star, in an admonishing tone; "he came as a matter of duty, believing it was an hallucination of yours."
"He will forgive me, then," returned Edith, with calm resignation, "if I did or said anything unbecoming a lady, who—who—oh, Star, I cannot believe that I did anything wrong, do you? If he never knows, I will keep my secret, and you will help me in my troubled heart, will you not, dear?"
"He loves you, Edith."
"Dear Star," said Edith, as she threw both arms around her friend's neck; "does he? Does he? Are you sure?"
"I am sure, Edith," said Star, kissing Edith. "He told me as much."