Edith at Home

It was too late for Grace to call, and bidding her companion good-
bye, she galloped down the hill, while Edith, in a meditative
mood, suffered her favorite Bedouin to walk leisurely up the
carriage road which led to the rear of the house.

"Victor Dupres!" she exclaimed, as a tall figure emerged from the
open door and came forward to meet her. "Where did you come from?"

"From New York," he replied, bowing very low, "Will Mademoiselle
alight?" and taking the little foot from out the shoe he lifted
her carefully from the saddle.

"Is HE here?" she asked, and Victor replied, "Certainement; and has brought home a fresh recruit of the blues,
too, judging from the length and color of his face."

"Why did he go to New York?" interrupted Edith, who had puzzled
her brain not a little with regard to the business which had taken
Richard so suddenly from home.

"As true as I live I don't know," was Victor's reply. "For once
he's kept dark even to me, scouring all the alleys, and lanes, and
poor houses in the city, leaving me at the hotel, and taking with
him some of those men with brass buttons on their coats. One day
when he came back he acted as if he were crazy and I saw the great
tears drop on the table over which he was leaning, then when I
asked 'if he'd heard bad news,' he answered, 'No, joyful news. I'm
perfectly happy now. I'm ready to go home,' and he did seem happy,
until we drove up to the gate and you didn't come to meet him.
'Where's Edith?' he asked, and when Mrs. Matson said you were out,
his forehead began to tie itself up in knots, just as it does when
he is displeased. It's my opinion, Miss Edith, that you humor him
altogether too much, You are tied to him as closely as a mother to
her baby."