The young girl had grown wonderfully womanly and dignified during the last two years.
She was not like the careless, sparkling, impulsive Editha who had so dauntlessly stood up in the crowded court-room and defended the hero of our story on that sad day when he received a felon’s doom.
She was more grave and self-contained, more thoughtful and dignified, but not a whit less sweet and attractive.
If anything, the gentle gravity of the deep blue eyes, with their steady, searching glance, possessed a greater charm than when they had been so full of mirth and laughter; the calm, self-possessed manner was more fascinating than the careless gayety of the light-hearted school-girl.
She persisted—much to her father’s inward vexation and disgust, for he had fondly hoped to have the handling of her money matters—in going over all her uncle’s papers, and becoming thoroughly acquainted with all the points of business pertaining to them.
He had said he felt sure she would make good use of the fortune which he had left her, and she knew that, in order to do so, she must understand in the beginning everything concerning it.
So she listened with the strictest attention while the prosy lawyer whom Richard Forrester had appointed to settle his affairs explained, now and then putting an intelligent question, which showed that her mind was strong and clear to grasp every detail.
She would allow no one save herself to examine the private drawer of Richard Forrester’s safe, although Mr. Dalton stood by chafing at her obstinacy, and longing to see for himself what it contained.
She found, as she expected, the package belonging to Earle, of which her uncle had spoken.
“What have you there, Editha?” her father asked, as, after examining its address and seal, she was about to return it to the drawer.