"The sweetest joy I have ever known was my love for you, Edith
Hastings," he whispered, and then the door was closed between
them.
Down the winding stairs he went, Edith counting every step, for
until all sound of him had ceased she could not feel that they
were parted forever. The sounds did cease at last, he had bidden
Richard a calm good-bye, had said good-bye to Victor, and now he
was going from the house. He would soon be out of sight, and with
an intense desire to stamp his image upon her mind just as he was
now, the changed, repentant Arthur, Edith arose, and tottering to
the window, looked after him, through blinding tears, as he passed
slowly from her sight, and then crawling, rather than walking back
to her bed, she wept herself to sleep.
It was a heavy, unnatural slumber, and when she awoke from it, the
fever returned with redoubted violence, bringing her a second time
so near the gates of death that Arthur St. Claire deferred his
departure for several days, and Nina became again the nurse of the
sick room.
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