“No, Richard, no,” Edith sobbed.  “You must not go away, I want you here with us.”

“It is best that I go for a while,” he replied, “I am almost as much at home in Europe as I am here, and Victor is anxious to see Paris again.  I have talked with Arthur about it, asking him to live here while I am gone at least and take charge of my affairs.  He had thought to rebuild Grassy Spring, but finally consented to defer it for a time and do as I desired.  The negroes will be pleased with this arrangement, and as Grace must wish to be rid of them, they will come up here at once.  I shall be happier knowing that you are here; and when I feel that I can, I will come back again, but do not let thoughts of the wanderer mar your bliss.  I have been thinking it over, Edith, and I see more and more that it was right for me to release you.  I do not censure you for aught except that you did not tell me in the beginning.  For this I did blame you somewhat, but have forgiven you now.”

“Oh.  Richard, Richard,” Edith burst out impetuously, “I never loved you one half so much as since you gave me to Arthur, and I have wanted to come and tell you so, but you would not let me.”

He knew what kind of love she meant, and his heart beat just the same as she continued,

“I wanted to tell you how sorry I am that I was ever cross to you, and I have been many times since that night I promised to be yours.  I don’t know what made me.  I do not feel so now.”

“I know what made you,” Richard replied.  “You did not love the blind old man well enough to be his wife, and the feeling that you must be, soured your disposition.  Forgive me, darling, but I don’t believe I should have been happy with you after a time—­not as happy as Arthur, and it is this which helps me to bear it.”

This was not very complimentary to Edith, but it comforted her just as Richard meant it should, and made the future look brighter.  Richard was dearer to her now than he had over been, and the tender, loving caress she gave him, when at last Arthur’s voice was heard without asking for admission was not feigned, for she felt that he was the noblest, the best of men, and she told him so, kissing again and again his face, and sighing to think how white and wan it had grown within the last few weeks.

“Come, darling, we are waiting for you,” Arthur said, as he advanced into the room, and Richard put from his lap the beautiful young girl around whose uncovered shoulders Arthur wrapped the white merino cloak which was to shield her from the night air; then bending over Richard, he said, “Heaven will bless you, even as I do, for the peerless gift I have received from you, and believe me, there is much of pain mingled with my joy—­pain at leaving you so desolate.  I cannot tell you all I feel, but if a lifetime of devotion can in the smallest degree repay you what I owe, it shall be freely given.  Now bless me once more, me and my—­ bride.”