"
"Please may I come in?" said Kitty, at her door. "Rachel told me
you had a headache, but I know you won't mind me," and ere the
words were half out of her mouth, Kitty's bonnet was off and she
was perched upon the foot of the bed. HAVE you heard the news?"
she began. "It's so wonderful, and so sad, too. Squire Harrington
is not married; he's worse off than that--he's hopelessly blind."
"Indeed!" and Grace Atherton's manner was very indifferent.
"Yes," Kitty continued, "His French valet, Victor, who travelled
with him in Europe, told brother Will all about it. Seven or eight
years ago they were spending the summer upon the banks of the
Rhine, and in a cottage near them was an American with a Swedish
wife and baby. The man, it seems, was a dissipated fellow, much
older than his wife, whom he neglected shamefully, leaving her
alone for weeks at a time. The baby's name was Eloise, and she was
a great pet with Richard who was fond of children. At last, one
day in autumn, the little Eloise, who had just learned to run
alone, wandered off by herself to a bluff, or rock, or something,
from which she fell into the river.
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