Part 52 (1/2)
CHAPTER x.x.xIII.
MR. BRYANT MEETS WITH UNEXPECTED DIFFICULTIES.
Let us now return to Edith, to ascertain how she is faring under the care of her new friends in New York.
On the morning following her arrival Mr. Bryant called at the house of his cousin, Mrs. Morrell, as he had promised, to escort our fair heroine to his office, to meet Mr. Louis Raymond, who had been so anxiously searching for her.
The gentleman had not arrived when they reached the place that was so familiar to Edith, and ”Roy,” as she was slyly beginning to call him, conducted her directly to his own special sanctum, and seated her in the most comfortable chair, to await the coming of the stranger.
”My suns.h.i.+ne has come back to me,” he smilingly remarked, as he bent over her and touched his lips to her forehead in a fond caress. ”I have not had one bright day since that morning when I returned from my trip and found your letter, telling me that you were not coming to me any more.”
”I did not think, then, that I should ever return,” Edith began, gravely. Then she added, in a lighter tone: ”But now, that I am here, will you not set me at work?”
”Indeed, no; there shall be no more toiling for you, my darling,”
returned the young man, with almost pa.s.sionate tenderness.
Edith shrank a little at his fond words, and a troubled expression leaped into her eyes.
Somehow she could not feel that she had a right to accept his loving attentions and terms of endearment, precious as they were to her, while there was any possibility that another had a claim upon her.
Roy saw the movement, hardly noticeable though it was, and understood the feeling that had prompted it, and he resolved that he would be patient, and refrain from causing her even the slightest annoyance until lie could prove to her that she was free.
A few moments later Mr. Raymond was ushered in, and Roy, after greeting him cordially, presented him to Edith.
It was evident from the earnestness with which he studied her face that the man had more than an ordinary interest in her; while, as he clasped her hand, he appeared to be almost overcome with emotion.
”Pardon me,” he said, as he struggled for self-control, ”but this meeting with you awakens memories that have proved too much for my composure. You do not resemble your mother, Miss Edith,” he concluded, in a tone of regret, as he gazed wistfully into her eyes.
”No?” the fair girl returned, flus.h.i.+ng, and feeling half guilty for allowing him to believe that she was Mr. and Mrs. Allandale's own child.
But she had determined to let him tell his story, or at least reveal the nature of his business with her, and then be governed by circ.u.mstances regarding her own disclosures.
”If you will kindly excuse me, I will look over my mail while you are conversing with Miss Allandale,” Roy remarked, thinking, with true delicacy, that the man might have some communication to make which he would not care to have a third party overhear.
Then, with a bow and a smile, he pa.s.sed from the room, leaving the two alone.
”I cannot tell you how gratified I am to find you, Miss Edith,” Mr.
Raymond remarked, as the door closed. ”I have met only disappointment of late, and, indeed, throughout most of my life, and I feared that our advertis.e.m.e.nts might not meet your eye. I was deeply pained upon returning to America, after many years spent abroad, to learn of the misfortunes of your family, while the knowledge of your mother's privations during the last two years of her life--as related to me by Mr. Bryant--has caused me more grief than I can express.”
”Yes, mamma's last days were very, very sad,” said Edith, while tears dimmed her eyes.
”Tell me about them, please--tell me all about your father's death, and how it happened that you became so reduced financially,” said Mr.
Raymond.
Then the fair girl, beginning with the loss of her young brothers, related all that had occurred during the two years following, up to the time of her mother's death, while she spoke most touchingly of the patience and fort.i.tude with which the gentle invalid had borne their struggles with poverty and hards.h.i.+p.
More than once her companion was forced to wipe the tears from his cheeks, as he listened to the sad recital, while his eyes lingered affectionately upon the faithful girl who--as he learned from Mr.
Bryant--had so heroically tried to provide for the necessities of one whom, it was evident, he had loved with more than ordinary affection.
When she had concluded her story he remained silent for a few moments, as if to fortify himself for the revelations which he had to make; then he remarked: