Alas!  Nina had come nearer the truth than she supposed, and Edith involuntarily echoed her oft-repeated words, “Poor Arthur,” for she knew now what had preceded that cry of more than mortal anguish which Arthur sent to Grace after hearing first of the engagement.

“Nina” she said, after a moment’s silence, “before that time of which you speak, there came a night of grief to me—­a night when I wished that I might die, because Richard asked me to be his wife—­ me, who looked upon him as my father rather than a husband.  I can’t tell you what he said to me, but it was very touching, very sad, and my heart ached so much for the poor blind man.”

“But you didn’t tell him yes,” interrupted Nina.  “You couldn’t.  You didn’t love him.  It’s wicked to act a lie Miggie—­as wicked as ’tis to tell one.  Say you told him no; it chokes me just to think of it.”

“Nina,” and Edith’s voice was low and earnest in its tone, “I thought about it four whole weeks and at last I went to Richard and said, ‘I will be your wife.’  I have never taken it back, I am engaged to him, and I shall keep my word.  Were it not that you sent for me I should have been his bride ere this.  I shall be his bride on New Year’s night.”

Edith spoke rapidly, as if anxious to have the task completed, and when at last it was done, she felt that her strength was leaving her, so great had been the effort with which she told her story to Nina.  Gradually as she talked Nina had crept away from her, and sitting upright in bed, stared at her fixedly, her face for once putting on the mature dignity of her years, and seeming older than Edith’s.  Then the clear-minded, rational Nina spoke out, “Miggie Bernard, were you ten thousand times engaged to Richard, it shall not be.  You must not stain your soul with a perjured vow, and you would, were this sacrifice to be.  Your lips would say ‘I love,’ but your heart would belie the words, and God’s curse will rest upon you if you do Richard this cruel wrong.  He does not deserve that you should deal so treacherously with him, and Miggie, I would far rather you were lying in the grave-yard over yonder, than to do this great wickedness.  You must not, you shall not,” and in the eyes of violet blue there was an expression beneath which the stronger eyes of black quailed as they had done once before, when delirium had set its mark upon them.

It was in vain that Edith persisted in saying she did, or at least should love Richard as he deserved.  Nina was not to be convinced, and at last, in self-defence, Edith broke out bitterly against Arthur as the immediate cause of her sufferings.  Had he not been faithless to his marriage vow, and might she not keep hers quite as well as he kept his.