"Aunt," he said, his own eyes misty, "don't you think we had better send for Edina? She would be a comfort to you."
"Edina!" was the sobbing answer. "My dear, she was telegraphed for this morning. Lamb went to the station just after you left. I knew she would come off at once: she is on her way now. I could never bear up under this trouble without Edina."
"But she does not know of the other trouble," thought Frank, looking on Mrs. Raynor, with pitying eyes. "It must be broken to her by Edina."
[CHAPTER VII.]
FRANK RAYNOR FOLLOWED
The whole house was steeped in grief—for Major Raynor had died at dawn. As most houses are, when a near and beloved relative is removed: and the anguish is more keenly felt if the blow, as in this case, falls suddenly. Edina was a treasure now; she had travelled by night and was early at Eagles' Nest. Mourning with them sincerely, she at the time strove to cheer them. She whispered of a happier meeting hereafter, where shall be no more parting; she would not let them sorrow without hope. Even Mrs. Raynor felt comforted: and the little children dried their tears, saying that papa was with the angels in heaven, and they should go to him when God saw that they were good enough.
But, of that other misfortune none of the household as yet were cognizant. Frank took an opportunity of revealing it to Edina. It almost overwhelmed even her.
"Not theirs!" she cried, in a dread whisper. "Eagles' Nest George Atkinson's!"
"And the worst of it is," returned Frank, running through a summary of the details he had heard, "that he means to exact his rights at once, and take immediate possession of the place as soon as he lands. Did you not know this George Atkinson once, Edina?"
"Yes—a little," she answered, a faint blush rising to her cheek at the remembrance.