“Why, my dear!” exclaimed Miss Santley. “Whatever is the matter? Has anything happened?”
“No, nothing,” said Edith, faintly. “I have got a very bad headache, that is all; and—and—I cannot go to church again to-day, Miss Santley.”
“Go to church,” echoed Miss Santley. “Why, my dearest girl, of course you cant go to church! I will send Jane with a message to Charles, and stay and take care of you.”
But this Edith would not allow. She pulled the handkerchief from her forehead, and declared her intention of going home.
Miss Santley kissed her kindly. At this exhibition of tenderness Edith fairly broke down. She threw her arms around the lady’s neck, and burst into tears.
“I—I am so sorry,” she said at last, when her sobs had somewhat subsided; “but I could not help it. I—I am such a coward when I am ill!”
Miss Santley said nothing; she knew she could do nothing. There was some mystery here which she could not fathom, so she yielded to the girl’s solicitations and allowed her to go home.