"Dear, darling baby," she said aloud, feeling an irresistible
desire to hug the little creature to her bosom. "Who are you,
baby? Where are you now? and how came you with Mr. St. Claire?"
She asked these questions aloud, and was answered by Richard
calling from his seat beneath the maple to know why she tarried so
long. With one more lingering glance at the infant, she locked the
doors and hastened out to her blind charge. On three or four other
occasions she came alone to Grassy Spring, opening the doors and
windows, and feasting her eyes upon the beautiful little child.
Edith was wonderfully in love with that picture, and many a theory
she built as to the original. Grace had told her that Arthur had
no sister, and this, while it tended to deepen the mystery,
increased her interest.
"I'll ask him about her when he gets home," she thought; and she
waited anxiously for his return, which occurred much sooner than
she anticipated.
It was a cold, raw November day, and the rain was beating against
the windows of the little room she called her boudoir, and where
she now sat sewing, when Victor, who had been sent to Grassy
Spring to see that the storm did not penetrate the western blinds,
appeared before her, ejaculating, "Mon Dieu, Miss Hastings.
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