"I SHALL NEVER FORGIVE EITHER OF YOU FOR YOUR SIN AGAINST ME."
The morning following the great Goddard ball at Wyoming, found Edith much better, greatly to the surprise of every one.
She was quite weak, as was but natural after such a shock to her system, both physically and mentally; but she had slept very quietly through the night, after the housekeeper had gone to her and thrown the protection of her presence around her.
At Emil Correlli's request, the physician had remained in the house all night, in case he should be wanted; and when he visited her quite early in the morning, he expressed himself very much gratified to find her so comfortable, and said she would do well enough without any further medical treatment, but advised her to keep quiet for a day or two.
This Edith appeared perfectly willing to do, and lay contentedly among her pillows, watching her kind nurse while she put the room in order, making no remarks, asking no questions, but with a look of grave resolve growing in her eyes and about her sweet mouth, which betrayed that she was doing a good deal of thinking upon some subject.
Mrs. Goddard came to her door immediately after breakfast, but Edith refused to see her.
She had told Mrs. Weld not to admit any one; therefore, when the lady of the house sought admittance, the housekeeper firmly but respectfully denied her entrance.
"But I have something very important to say to Edith," madam persisted.
"Then it had best be left unsaid until the poor girl is stronger," Mrs. Weld replied, without moving her portly proportions and holding the door firmly in her hand.
"I have a message from my brother for her—it is necessary that I should deliver it," Mrs. Goddard obstinately returned. Mrs. Weld looked back into the room inquiringly.