But he looked so unhappy, so hopelessly wretched that her
sympathy was soon enlisted for him rather than his fair captive.
Still she would try him a little and when they were fairly at work
she said to him jestingly,
"I heard it hinted that you would bring home a wife, but I do not
see her. Where is she, pray?"
Arthur uttered no sound save a stifled moan, and when Edith dared
to steal a look at him she saw that his brown hair was moist with
perspiration, which stood also in drops about his lips.
"Mr. St. Claire," she said, throwing down her pencil and leaning
back in her chair, "I can endure this no longer. What IS the
matter? Tell me. You have some great mental sorrow, I know, and I
long to share it with you--may I? Who have you up stairs and why
this mystery concerning her?"
She laid her hand upon his arm, and looked imploringly into the
face, which turned away from her, as if afraid to meet her
truthful glance. Once he thought to tell her all, but when he
remembered how beautiful she was, how much he loved her, and how
dear her society was to him, he refrained, for he vainly fancied
that a confession would drive her from him forever.
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