Mrs. Stewart put one taper finger beneath Edith's pretty, round chin, and gently lifting her downcast face, looked searchingly into her eyes.
"Darling, you are very fond of Mr. Bryant, are you not?" she softly questioned.
Instantly the fair face was dyed crimson, and, dropping her head upon her mother's shoulder, she murmured:
"How can I help it?"
"And he is going to win my daughter from me? I hope he is worthy."
"Oh, he is noble to the core of his heart," was the earnest reply.
"I believe he must be, dear, or you could not love him," smilingly returned her companion, adding: "At all events, he has been very kind and faithful to you, and therefore deserves my everlasting gratitude. Now tell me of this Mr. Raymond."
So Edith proceeded to relate the story of that gentleman's unfortunate love for and devotion to Mrs. Allandale; his recent quest for her, after learning of Mr. Allandale's misfortune and death, in order to leave his money to her; and how, after learning from Roy that she had died, he had then advertised for herself, and, since her return to New York, had settled the half of his fortune upon her.
"Really, it is like a romance, dear," said Mrs. Stewart, smiling, though somewhat sadly, when she concluded her pathetic tale. "To think that, after all, I should find my little girl an heiress in her own right! What a rich little body you will be by and by, when you also come in possession of your mother's inheritance," she added, lightly.
"Oh, pray do not suggest such a thought!" cried Edith, clinging to her. "All the wealth of the world could not make up to me the loss of my mother. Now that we have found each other, pray Heaven that we may be spared many, many years to enjoy our happiness."