The Decision

Edith was like all other maidens of eighteen, and
her girlish heart fluttered with joy as she thought what her
answer would be, but not at first,--not at once, lest she seem too
anxious. She'd make him wait a whole week, then see how he felt.
He deserved it all for his weak vacillation. If he loved her why
hadn't he told her before! She didn't believe there was such a
terrible impediment in the way. Probably he had sworn never to
marry any one save Nina, but her insanity was certainly a
sufficient reason for his not keeping the oath. Dr. Griswold was
peculiar,--over-nice in some points, and Arthur had been wholly
under his control, becoming morbidly sensitive to the past, and
magnifying every trivial circumstance into a mountain too great to
be moved.

This was Edith's reasoning as she sat waiting that October
afternoon for Arthur, who came ere long, looking happier, more
like himself than she had seen him since the memorable day when
she first met Nina. Arthur had determined to do right, to tell
without reserve the whole of his past history to Edith Hastings,
and the moment he reached this decision half his burden was lifted
from his mind. It cost him a bitter struggle thus to decide, and
lest his courage should give way, he had asked for an early
interview. It was granted, and without giving himself time to
repent he came at once and stood before the woman who was dearer
to him than his life. Gladly would he have died could he thus have
blotted out the past and made Edith his wife, but he could not,
and he had come to tell her so.