"I have not any pride," answered Edina with a grateful smile. "If I ever had any, the experience of the past three years has taken it out of me."
"I never intended to keep Eagles' Nest," he whispered. "I think you might have divined that, Edina. You knew me well once."
"And suppose Charles Raynor had continued to be unworthy?"
"Then Eagles' Nest would have passed away from him for ever. Its inheritor would have been Edina."
The evening was getting on at Mrs. Raynor's. Charles, who had been detained late at the office was sitting down to his frugal supper, which had been kept warm over the fire, and little Robert was in bed. They had been saying how late Edina was. Mrs. Raynor had a very bad headache.
"Let me place that cushion more comfortably for you mamma," said Charles.
"It will do very well as it is, my dear," she answered. "Get your supper: you must want it."
"Oh, not very much," said Charles, making a pretence of eating slowly, to conceal his hunger. "Alfred, do be quiet!—don't you know mamma is ill? Kate, sit down."
"There's Edina!" cried Alfred, clattering out to meet her in the passage.
She came in, looking pleased and gay, with sundry parcels in her hand. Kate and Alfred jumped round her.