"Yes, perfectly sure," was Arthur's reply, and with the sensation of disappointment, Edith turned at last from Miggie to the contemplation of the father; the Mr. Bernard whom she was not greatly disposed to like.
He was a portly, handsome man, but his face showed traces of early debauchery and later dissipation. Still, Edith was far more interested in him than in the portrait of Nina's mother, the light-haired, blue-eyed woman, so much like the daughter that the one could easily be recognized from it a resemblance to the other.
"Where is the second Mrs. Bernard's picture?" she asked, and
Arthur answered, "It was never taken, but Phillis declares YOU are
like her, and this accounts for Nina's pertinacity in calling you
Miggie."
The pictures were by this time duly examined, and then Nina, still playing the part of hostess, showed to Edith every thing of the least interest until she came to the door, leading into the large square closet.
"Open it, please," she whispered to Arthur. "Let Miggie see where
Nina stays when she tears."
Arthur unlocked the door, and Edith stepped with a shudder into the solitary cell which had witnessed more than one wild revel, and echoed to more than one delirious shriek.
"Is it necessary?" she asked, and Arthur replied: "We think so; otherwise she would demolish every thing within her reach, and throw herself from the window it may be."
"THAT'S SO," said Nina, nodding approvingly. "When I'm bad, I have to tear. It cures my head, and I'm so strong then, that it takes Phillis and Arthur both to put that gown on me. I can't tear that," and she pointed to a loose sacque-like garment, made of the heaviest possible material, and hanging upon a nail near the door of the cell.
"Have you been shut up since you came here?" Edith inquired, and Nina rejoined. "Once; didn't you hear me scream?" Phillis tried to make me quit, but I told her I wouldn't unless they'd let you come. I saw you on the walk, you know. I'm better with you, Miggie; a heap better since you made me cry. It took a world of hardness and pain away, and my head has not ached a single time since then. I'm most well; ain't I, Arthur."
"Miss Hastings certainly has a wonderful influence over you," returned Arthur, and as the evening wore away, Edith began to think so, too.