"I received a letter from Arthur last night," Grace continued,
"and thinking you might like to hear from Nina, I came round in
the rain to tell you of her. Her health is somewhat improved, and
she is now under the care of a West India physician, who holds out
strong hopes that her mental derangement may in time be cured."
Edith was doubly glad now that she had turned her face away, for
by so doing she hid the tears which dropped so fast upon her
pillow.
"Did Arthur mention me?" she asked, and Grace knew then that she
was crying.
Still it was better not to withhold the truth, and bending over
her she answered,
"No, Edith, he did not. I believe he is really striving to do
right."
"And he will live with Nina if she gets well?" came next from the
depths of the pillows where Edith lay half smothered.
"Perhaps so. Would you not like to have him?" Grace asked.
"Ye-e-e-s. I sup-pose so. Oh, I don't know what I like. I don't
know anything except that I wish I was dead," and the silent
weeping became a passionate sobbing as Edith shrank further from
Grace, plunging deeper and deeper among her pillows until she was
nearly hidden from view.
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