"You are quite right! It is only the horror with which those things naturally affect me. I can never regard such things, even in imagination, without feeling faint."
"In your profession I should think you would have overcome such things entirely!"
"One would think so, but it does not seem to have been the case with me. I do not believe that I shall ever recover from it. My cousin was to go to Miss Chandler's to begin her visit there to-day, was she not?"
"I think so; but not until this afternoon. Do you want to see her?"
"If you please. Will you kindly send for her to come here?"
Andrew Pryor was about to put his hand upon the bell to ring, when the door was suddenly thrown open, and Miss Pyne, with Miss Pryor, entered.
The former held a newspaper in her hand, and both seemed excited to the last degree. They paused, however, upon seeing Lynde.
"What is it?" he demanded, as neither of them even greeted him. "There was something that you wished to say, and you have hesitated because I am here. Can you not tell me, Edith, unless your news is a secret? The papers do not usually contain secrets that the world may not share, and from your manner I should say that it is something that you have learned from them."
"You are quite right, Lynde," she answered, laying her hand affectionately upon his shoulder. "I did learn my news from the papers, but it is something that will hurt you most seriously. So much so that I am afraid to tell you. But of course there can be no truth in it. You must take consolation in that, dear."
He had grown ghastly again. He endeavored to speak, but the horror that was upon him seemed to paralyze utterance.