"Of that we will not speak," the girl answered proudly; "what is done, is done. For me, I hope the worst is over—I am safe and well, and in good health as you see. I am glad Sir Victor Catheron has not met his death in my service. I have only one wish regarding him, and that is that he will keep away from me. And now, Lady Helena, before it grows any later, I will go home."
"Go home! At this hour? Most certainly you will not. You will remain here all night. Oh, Edith, you must indeed. A room has been prepared for you, adjoining mine. Inez and Jamison will remain with Victor until morning, and—you ought to see him before you go."
She shrank in a sort of horror.
"No, no, no! that I cannot! As it is so late I will remain, but see him—no, no! Not even for your sake, Lady Helena, can I do that."
"We will wait until to-morrow comes," was Lady Helena's response; "now you shall go to your room at once."
She rang the bell, a chambermaid came. Lady Helena kissed the girl's pale cheek affectionately, and Edith was led away to the room she was to occupy for that night.
It was certainly a contrast in its size and luxurious appointments to that she had used for the last ten months. She smiled a little as she glanced around. And she was to spend the night under the same roof with Sir Victor Catheron. If anyone had predicted it this morning, how scornfully she would have refused to believe.
"Who can tell what a day may bring forth!" was Edith's last thought as she laid her head on her pillow. "I am glad—very glad, that the accident will not prove fatal. I don't want him or anyone else to come to his death through me."
She slept well and soundly, and awoke late. She sprang out of bed almost instantly and dressed. She could but ill afford to lose a day. Before her toilet was quite completed there was a tap at the door. She opened it and saw Miss Catheron.
"I fancied you would be up early, and ordered breakfast accordingly.
Aunt Helena awaits you down stairs. How did you sleep?"