Visitors at Collingwood and Visitors at Brier Hill

As they crossed the threshold of the door, he struck his foot
against it, and instantly there rang in his ear the words which
little Edith had said to him so pityingly, "Poor blind man!" while
he felt again upon his brow the touch of those childish fingers;
and this was why the dark, hard look came back. Edith Hastings
rose up between him and the regal creature waiting so anxiously
his coming, and who, when he came and stood before her, in his
helplessness, wept like a child.

"Richard! oh, Richard! that it should be thus we meet again!" was
all that she could say, as, seizing the groping hand, she covered
it with her tears.

Victor had disappeared, and she could thus give free vent to her
emotions, feeling it almost a relief that the eyes whose glance
she once had loved to meet could not witness her grief.

"Grace," he said at last, the tone of his voice was so cold that
she involuntarily dropped his hands and looked him steadily in the
face. "Grace, do not aggravate my misfortune by expressing too
much sympathy. I am not as miserable as you may think, indeed, I
am not as unhappy even now as yourself."

"It's true, Richard, true," she replied, "and because I am unhappy
I have come to ask your forgiveness if ever word or action, or
taunt of mine caused you a moment's pain. I have suffered much
since we parted, and my suffering has atoned for all my sin."