rain beating against her windows, and watched the capricious
clouds as they floated by. Many times she wished it all a dream
from which she should awaken; and then, when she reflected that
'twas a fearful reality, she covered her head with the bed-clothes
and prayed that she might die. But why pray for this? She need not
be Richard's wife unless she chose--he had told her so repeatedly,
and now she too said "I will not!" Strange she had not thus
decided before and stranger still that she should be so happy now
she had decided!

There was a knock at the door, and Grace Atherton asked to be
admitted.

"Richard told me you were sick," she said, as she sat down by
Edith's side; "and you do look ghostly white. What is the matter,
pray?"

"One of my nervous headaches;" and Edith turned from the light so
that her face should tell no tales of the conflict within.

"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.