"Tell me first what you meant by early June, and October," he
said, and after Edith had explained, he continued, "Let the
wedding be still appointed for October, and unless I see that it
is absolutely killing you, I will not enlighten Mr. Harrington."

And this was all the promise Edith could extort from him.

"Unless he saw it was absolutely killing her, he would not
enlighten Richard."

"He shall see that it will not kill me," she said to herself, "I
will be gay whether I feel it or not. I will out-do myself, and if
my broken heart should break again, no one shall be the wiser."

Thus deciding, she turned toward the window where the gray dawn
was stealing in, and pointing to it, said:

"Look, the day is breaking; the longest night will have an end, so
will this miserable pain at my heart. Daylight will surely come
when I shall be happy with Richard. Don't tell him, Victor, don't;
and now leave me, for my head is bursting with weariness."

He knew it was, by the expression of her face, which, in the dim
lamp-light, looked ghastly and worn, and he was about to leave
her, when she called him back, and asked how long he had lived
with Mr. Harrington.

"Thirteen years," he replied. "He picked me up in Germany, just
before he came home to America. He was not blind then."