"I'm more than sorry to hear that. It should be him and not I—Well, it is no use denying it. I have news of a serious nature. Do you feel strong and brave enough to hear it from my lips, instead of Howard's?"
George was not aware of her condition, though he guessed it. But he saw no excuse for himself to escape this trying ordeal.
"Tell me," answered Edith, and he read in her eyes a new sadness, born of constant anxiety.
He took both her cold hands, and held them in his strong warm grasp.
"Dear little friend," he said with a deep tenderness, "I wish that I could do all your suffering for you. I only heard of your mother's illness today. I hastened to her home to inquire concerning her. The maid told me that she was very low. I saw your father and he asked me to come to you."
Edith paled, but her eyes shone brightly.
"You should not have delayed a moment in telling me, George," she said gravely. "I will hurry quickly."
"You look pale. Will you allow me to accompany you?"
"Thank you, yes," she replied, hastily leaving the room and returning dressed for the street.
"It's only a few minutes' walk. Your father will be glad to see you so soon."