Did the hand which sometimes
guided Edith's pencil ever retain the fingers longer than
necessary, a pair of deep blue eyes looked into his, not
reproachfully, for Nina could not fathom the meaning of what she
saw, but with an expression of childlike trust and confidence far
more potent than frowns and jealous tears would have been. Nina
was in Arthur's way, but not in Edith's, and half the pleasure she
experienced now in going to Grassy Spring, was derived from the
fact that she thus saw more of Nina than she would otherwise have
done. It was a rare and beautiful sight, the perfect love existing
between these two young girls, Edith seeming the elder, inasmuch
as she was the taller and more self-reliant of the two. As a
mother watches over and loves her maimed infant, so did Edith
guard and cherish Nina, possessing over her so much power that a
single look from her black eyes was sufficient to quiet at once
the little lady, who, under the daily influence of her society
visibly improved both in health and spirits.
CHAPTER XVIII.
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