had spoken out of the simplicity of her honest heart; but there
is a great power in earnestness, and her words were not to fall to the
ground. In spite of Edna's faults, many and glaring as they were, she
was very susceptible to good influences; her affection for Neville
Sinclair proved this, as well as her friendship with Bessie; underneath
the leaven of selfishness and self-will engendered by a false education
there was a large margin of generosity and truth; if she were quick to
sin, she was also quick to repent.

Edna did not again allude to the subject of her unhappiness; there were
no more fireside confidences with Bessie, but for two or three days she
was very quiet and thoughtful, and there were no excited moods of
merriment to jar on Bessie. She was gentle and affectionate in her
manner to her mother, and this unusual docility seemed to add to Mrs.
Sefton's uneasiness.

Bessie did not feel comfortable in her mind about Edna; the old spring
and elasticity seemed gone forever; there was manifest effort in
everything she did through the day, and yet she never rested willingly.
She laid out plans for every hour, she made appointments with her
friends; every day there was driving, shopping, tea-drinking, often a
concert or recitation to finish off the evening; but now and then, in
the midst of a lively conversation, there would be the look of utter
exhaustion on her face, and when her friends had left she would throw
herself on the couch as though all strength had gone. On these
occasions, when she was spent and weary, it was not always easy to
control her irritability. Mrs. Sefton was not a judicious woman, and, in
spite of her devotion to her daughter, she often showed a want of tact
and a lack of wisdom that galled Edna's jaded spirits. She was always
urging Edna to seek new distractions, or appealing to her sense of
vanity.

"Mamma thinks a new dress or ornament can make any girl happy," she said
one day, with a curl of her lip; "but she is mistaken; I don't care
about them now."

One afternoon Mrs. Sefton had been lunching with a friend, and when she
returned she brought Edna a present; it was a pin brooch set with
brilliants, a most costly toy, and Edna had admired it in an idle
moment; but as she opened the little case there was no pleased
expression on her face.

"Oh, mamma, why have you bought this?" she asked, in a dissatisfied
voice.

"You admired it so much, my darling, and so I thought I would p