"My sunshine has come back to me," he smilingly remarked, as he bent over her and touched his lips to her forehead in a fond caress. "I have not had one bright day since that morning when I returned from my trip and found your letter, telling me that you were not coming to me any more."
"I did not think, then, that I should ever return," Edith began, gravely. Then she added, in a lighter tone: "But now, that I am here, will you not set me at work?"
"Indeed, no; there shall be no more toiling for you, my darling," returned the young man, with almost passionate tenderness.
Edith shrank a little at his fond words, and a troubled expression leaped into her eyes.
Somehow she could not feel that she had a right to accept his loving attentions and terms of endearment, precious as they were to her, while there was any possibility that another had a claim upon her.
Roy saw the movement, hardly noticeable though it was, and understood the feeling that had prompted it, and he resolved that he would be patient, and refrain from causing her even the slightest annoyance until lie could prove to her that she was free.
A few moments later Mr. Raymond was ushered in, and Roy, after greeting him cordially, presented him to Edith.
It was evident from the earnestness with which he studied her face that the man had more than an ordinary interest in her; while, as he clasped her hand, he appeared to be almost overcome with emotion.
"Pardon me," he said, as he struggled for self-control, "but this meeting with you awakens memories that have proved too much for my composure. You do not resemble your mother, Miss Edith," he concluded, in a tone of regret, as he gazed wistfully into her eyes.
"No?" the fair girl returned, flushing, and feeling half guilty for allowing him to believe that she was Mr. and Mrs. Allandale's own child.