"Yes, but her threats were only so many idle words—they cannot harm you; you need not fear them."
"But I do; somehow, I am impressed that they are plotting even greater wrongs against me," sighed Edith, who, now that the necessity of preserving a bold front was passed, seemed to lose her courage.
"They will not dare—" began Mrs. Weld, with some excitement. Then, suddenly checking herself, she added, soothingly: "But do not worry any more about it now, child—you never need 'cross a bridge until you come it.' Lie down and rest a while; it will do you good, and maybe you will catch a little nap, while I go down to see that everything is moving smoothly in the dining-room and kitchen."
Edith was only too willing to heed this sensible advice, and, shortly after the housekeeper's departure, fell into a restful sleep.
She did not awake until it was nearly dark, when, feeling much refreshed, she arose and dressed herself resolving that she would not trouble tired Mrs. Weld to bring up her dinner, but go downstairs and have it with her, as usual.
The house was very quiet, for, all the guests having gone, there was only the family and the servants in the house.
Edith remained in her room until she heard the dinner-bell ring, when she went to the door to listen for Mr. and Mrs. Goddard and Emil Correlli to go down, before she ventured forth, for she had a special object in view.
Presently she heard them enter the dining-room, whereupon she stole softly down after them and slipped into the library in search of the daily papers.
She found one, the Transcript, and then hurried back to her room, lighted the gas, and sat down to read.
Immediately a low cry of dismay burst from her, for the first thing that caught her eye were some conspicuous head-lines announcing: