“I was so glad to see you, the great joy and the surprise overcame me.  I am not as strong as I used to be in the old happy days at Le Bocage, but after a little I shall be myself.  It is only occasionally that I have these attacks of faintness.  Put your hand on my forehead, as you did years ago, and let me think that I am a little child again.  Oh, the unspeakable happiness of being with you once more!”

“Hush! do not talk now, you are not strong enough!”

Mrs. Murray kissed her, and tenderly smoothed the hair back from her blue-veined temples, where the blood still fluttered irregularly.

For some minutes the girl’s eyes wandered eagerly over her companion’s countenance, tracing there the outlines of another and far dearer face, and finding a resemblance between mother and son which she had never noticed before.  Then she closed her eyes again, and a half smile curved her trembling mouth, for the voice and the touch of the hand seemed indeed Mr. Murray’s.

“Edna, I shall never forgive you for not writing to me, telling me frankly of your failing health.”

“Oh! scold me as much as you please.  It is a luxury to hear your voice even in reproof.”

“I knew mischief would come of this separation from me.  You belong to me, and I mean to have my own, and take proper care of you in future.  The idea of your working yourself to a skeleton for the amusement of those who care nothing about you is simply preposterous, and I intend to put an end to such nonsense.”

“Mrs. Murray, why have you not mentioned Mr. Hammond?  I almost dread to ask about him.”

“Because you do not deserve to hear from him.  A grateful and affectionate pupil you have proved, to be sure.  Oh, Edna! what has come over you, child?  Are you so intoxicated with your triumphs that you utterly forget your old friends, who loved you when you were unknown to the world?  At first I thought so.  I believed that you were heartless, like all of your class, and completely wrapped up in ambitious schemes.  But, my little darling, I see I wronged you.  Your poor white face reproaches me for my injustice, and I feel that success has not spoiled you; that you are still my little Edna—­my sweet child—­my daughter.  Be quiet now, and listen to me, and try to keep that flutter out of your lips.  Mr. Hammond is no worse than he has been for many months, but he is very feeble, and can not live much longer.  You know very well that he loves you tenderly, and he says he can not die in peace without seeing you once more.  Every day, when I go over to the parsonage, his first question is, ’Ellen, is she coming?—­have you heard from her?’ I wish you could have seen him when St. Elmo was reading your book to him.  It was the copy you sent; and when we read aloud the joint dedication to him and to myself, the old man wept, and asked for his glasses, and tried to read it, but could not.  He—­”

Edna put out her hand with a mute gesture, which her friend well understood, and she paused and was silent; while the governess turned her face to the wall and wept softly, trying to compose herself.