The Deering Woods

"I'll pretend I don't hear him," she said, and humming a simple
air she was industriously pulling the bark from the tree when NINA
stood before her, exclaiming, "You ARE here just as Arthur said you'd be. The woods were so
still and smoky that I was most afraid."

Ordinarily Edith would have been delighted at this meeting, but
now she could not forbear wishing Nina away, and she said to her
somewhat sternly, "What made you come?"

"He sent me," and Nina crouched down at Edith's feet, like a
frightened spaniel. "Arthur is coming, too, and going to do right.
He said he was, bending right over me last night, and when I woke
this morning there was a great tear on my face. 'Twasn't mine,
Miggie. It was too big for that. It was Arthur's."

"How came he in your room?" Edith asked, a little sharply, and
Nina replied, "I was in the library. We both staid there all night. It wasn't in
my room, though Arthur has a right, Miggie. IT NEVER WAS SCRATCHED
OUT!"

Edith was puzzled, and was about to question Nina as to her
meaning, when another step was heard, a manly, heavy tread,
precluding all possibility of a mistake this time. Arthur St.
Claire had come!

"It's quite pleasant since yesterday," he said, trying to force a
smile, but it was a sickly effort, and only made more ghastly and
wan his pallid features, over which ages seemed to have passed
since the previous day, leaving them scarred, and battered, and
worn.