"How did you get in?" asked Edith. "He must have been there before
you."
"He had a key to the back door," returned Victor, "and I gave him
up mine. He wants you to send the others. Shall I take them over?"
"Yes--no--I will go myself," said Edith, remembering Mr. Griswold,
from Worcester, and the message she was to deliver.
"YOU go in this rain! Mr. Harrington won't let you," said Victor,
and Edith rejoined, "I shan't ask him. I've been out in worse
storms than this. Bring up Bedouin."
Victor was never happier than when obeying Edith, and in an
inconceivably short space of time Bedouin stood at the back
piazza, where his mistress mounted him and rode away. It was not
until she had left the Collingwood grounds and was out upon the
main road, that she began to feel any doubts as to the propriety
of what she was doing. She had not seen Arthur St. Claire for
eight years. She must, of course, introduce herself and would he
not marvel to see her there in that rain, when a servant could
have brought the keys its well.
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