bout her, and brought her here. But it does not seem to do
her much good. It is her spirits, I think, for she has lost all her fun,
and she is not at all like the old Edna, and it grieves me to see her,"
stammered Bessie, confused at having said so much, and yet not willing
to be silent. "What can I say? What ought I to do for them both?" she
thought, in much distress.

"There has never been anything wrong with her spirits before," replied
Mr. Sinclair, in rather an incredulous tone. But Bessie had caught sight
of his face; it was quite pale now, and he was pulling his mustache
nervously, and she was not a bit deceived by his voice. "Do you mean
that she is not happy? I hope--that is--I trust nothing has occurred to
trouble her."

"Nothing fresh. Oh, Mr. Sinclair!" and here Bessie burst out, regardless
of conventionality, of probable consequences, of everything but her
honest heart. "Why do you not understand what it is that ails Edna? If
you do not know, no one can--no one--no one;" and then, frightened at
her own audacity, Bessie colored up to her forehead and walked on; but
Mr. Sinclair was by her side the next moment.

"Don't go, Miss Lambert. Please do not leave me yet. Tell me plainly
what it is you mean. You are Edna's friend, and I know you will be true
to her. You have a good heart. I see in your eyes that you are sorry for
me; do not be afraid to speak out. Why am I to know what is the matter
with Edna?"

"That is a strange question for you to ask; surely you know Edna well
enough to be aware how deeply she can repent of her faults!"

"Do you mean--speak plainly, I beseech you; do you--can you mean that
Edna repents of her cruel treatment of me?"

"Repents! Of course she has repented. Mr. Sinclair, you were very wrong
to leave her. Why did you take her at her word? It was all temper; her
pride was piqued because she believed herself distrusted. I know Edna so
well; in spite of her faults, she is true and generous. When she loves,
she loves once and forever; if she sent you away, she has been sorry for
it ever since. What must you think of me for telling you this? I am so
ignorant of the world, most likely I have acted foolishly, but it seems
to me that truth is everything."

"I think that you have acted nobly, Miss Lambert; you have made me your
debtor for life, if this be true;" and then he stopped and passed his
hand across his forehead, as though the sudden relief had bewildered
him. "Oh, thank God!