“Yes, it pains me to find him as he is,” Earle returned, in answer to her remark; but he was thinking more of his spiritual condition than of his physical suffering.
“He is very sorry for the past,” Editha said, with a wistful look; “he talks of it almost constantly in his sleep in a wild, sad way, although he speaks bitterly when he is awake. He begs Marion—that was your mother, Earle—to forgive him, and tells her that he did not see things then as he does now. I think she would forgive him now if she could see him; and, Earle, I wish you could forgive him, too. Oh, if you could part at peace with each other!”
“We can, my darling. I have never wished him any ill, and freely forgive him every wrong; though, of course, it cannot be expected that I could feel any affection for him,” Earle replied, gravely.
“No—oh, no.”
“And my mother’s wrongs were very grievous.”
“I know,” Editha said, with a deep sigh of regret, as she thought of that delicate, lovely girl, and what torture she must have endured when she believed herself betrayed and scorned.
“Editha, can you forgive Mr. Dalton for all he has wilfully made you suffer—for trying to part us when there was no need, and for seeking to hide you from your mother?” Earle asked, regarding her curiously.
The tears sprang to her eyes as she answered:
“Oh, yes; he is dying, you know, and I could not let him leave me feeling that I cherished any bitterness toward him. His path to the grave is very dark, and I would not add to its gloom. It has been very hard to bear all those things,” she added, sighing; “but I think papa has been the worst sufferer, after all. He never was unkind to me until after my dear father died. Oh, Earle,” she cried, her lovely face lighting up with tenderness, “you don’t know how I love to think that he was my father—I loved him so dearly. I used to think sometimes that I was really ungrateful to love him so very much when he was only my uncle; but now I know why it was—it was the natural impulse of my heart going out to him, where it belonged.”
“How like a romance the story of your life is, my darling,” Earle said, thoughtfully.