take to herself wings and fly away--away over mountain and valley,
river and rill, to the fair land of flowers where Nina was, and
where too was Arthur. As she read, she uttered no sound, but when
at last Richard said to her,

"What is it, Birdie? Have you heard bad news?" her tears flowed at
once, and leaning her head upon his shoulder, she answered,

"Nina is dying--dear little, bright-haired Nina. She has sent for
me. She wants me to come so much. May I, Richard? May I go to
Nina?"

"Read me the letter," was Richard's reply, his voice unusually low
and sad.

Edith could not read the whole. Arthur's postscript must be
omitted, as well as a portion of Nina's, but she did the best she
could, breaking down entirely when she reached the point where
Nina spoke of her Arthur boy's goodness in carrying her to the
window.

Richard, too, was much affected, and his voice trembled as he
said, "St. Claire is a noble fellow. I always felt strangely drawn
toward him. Isn't there something between him and Nina--something
more than mere guardianship?"

"They were engaged before she was crazy," returned Edith, while
Richard sighed, "poor boy, poor boy! It must be worse than death.
His darkness is greater than mine."