“This is your favorite song, Neville,” she said, looking at him quietly, and a flush of pleasure crossed his face. If he had ever doubted the reality of her affection for him, he could not have doubted it to-night, when every moment her gentleness and soft, appealing manner seemed to plead for forgetfulness of the past, and to hold out a safer promise for the future.
“I must come and see your mother,” Bessie heard her say later on. “Mamma thinks of taking rooms for the season, and then I shall see her often; shall you like that, Neville?”
“There is only one thing I should like better,” he replied, and there was a smile on his face as he got up and wished them good-night; and then he said something in a low voice to Edna.
“Very well,” she answered, with a bend of her graceful head, and she rose from her seat and walked to the door.
Mrs. Sefton looked after them with an indulgent smile.
“He wants a word with her alone; Edna won’t refuse him anything to-night. How happy they are, Bessie! Dear Neville is so satisfied; he told me that he was struck with the improvement in Edna; he thinks her so much more womanly and so gentle, but he is troubled about her delicacy; but she will get better now all this worry is at an end.” And Bessie acquiesced in this.
When Edna came back, a little while afterward, she went straight to her mother and knelt down by her chair.
“Mother dear,” she said, tenderly, “Neville has forgiven me, and you must forgive me, too.”
“I forgive you my darling!” in a startled tone.
“Yes, for being such a bad daughter; but I will be good; indeed, I will be good now;” and, worn out with the emotions of the day, Edna laid her head on her mother’s lap and burst into tears.