forward and placed his hand
on her arm, as if to detain her. She shrunk from his touch with an
expression of loathing, which called the crimson to his cheek, but he
suppressed his emotion, and said calmly--

"I knew that you would soon need a protector, Miss Euston, and I came
hither with the faint hope that I might be able to overcome your cruel
prejudices against me--that I might become to you a friend at least,
if no dearer title were allowed me."

"You a friend to _me_!" exclaimed Edith impetuously. "You, who lured
my brother from his home, to wreck his existence in the life of
dissipation to which you tempted him. Ever feeble from his boyhood,
you knew that little was needed to destroy his frail constitution--yet,
because he stood between you and the possession of wealth, his life
was offered as the sacrifice to your criminal cupidity. And now you
come hither to watch the last fluttering throes of existence, fearful
that Death may delay his arrows until he shall have passed that hour
which entitles him to dispose of his property--and disappoint your
hopes, by bequeathing his wealth to those who are dearest to him."

"You are excited, Edith. You judge me too severely. Edgar's own
headlong passions destroyed him. I merely urged him to do as others of
his years and station, without foreseeing such fatal results. My love
for you would have prompted me to save your brother."

"Speak not to me of love--dare not approach the sister of your victim
with proffers of affection. The death of Edgar may leave me
penniless--nearly friendless--I have been tenderly nurtured, but I
would sooner embrace a life of sternest self-denial, of utter poverty,
than link myself with infamy in your person. Leave me--and dare not
approach the room of my brother, to imbitter his last hours by your
presence."

"And your mother, my fair heroine?" said Barclay, in a tone of sarcasm
bordering on contempt. "What will become of her if you persist in the
rejection of the only person in the wide world on whom you have any
claim? She is old, feeble, broken in health and spirit. Ah! will not
your proud heart faint when you behold her sharing this life of
poverty and self-denial, which seems to you so much more attractive
than the home and protection I offer you?"

Edith stifled the tears that sprung anew to her eyes, and after a
brief struggle said with composure--

"My mother is too honorable--she has too bitter a disdain of meanness
ever to wis