It was time now for the Dr. to go, as the smoke of the coming train was visible over the hills.  “You need not accompany me further,” he said, offering his hand to Arthur, who pressed it in silence, and then walked slowly back to Grassy Spring.

Those were terrible days which followed the visit of Dr. Griswold, for to see Edith Hastings often was a danger he dared not incur, while to avoid her altogether was utterly impossible, and at last resolving upon a change of scene as his only hope, he one morning astonished Grace with the announcement that he was going South, and it might be many weeks ere he returned.

Since coming to that neighborhood, Arthur had been a puzzle to Grace, and she watched him now in amazement, as he paced the floor, giving her sundry directions with regard to Nina, and telling her where a letter would find him in case she should be sick, and require his personal attention.  It was in vain that Grace expostulated with him upon what seemed to her a foolish and uncalled-for journey.  He was resolved, and saying he should not probably see Edith ere his departure, he left his farewell with her.

Once he thought of bidding her encourage Edith to marry the blind man, but he could not quite bring himself to this.  Edith was dearer to him now than when she promised him that if Richard sought her hand she would not tell him no, and he felt that he would rather she should die than be thus sacrificed.  Anxiously Grace looked after him as he walked rapidly away, thinking within herself that long association with Nina had impaired his reason.  And Arthur was more than half insane.  Not until now had he been wholly roused to the reality of his position.  Dr. Griswold had rent asunder the flimsy veil, showing him how hopeless was his love for Edith, and so, because he could not have her, he must go away.  It was a wise decision, and he was strengthened to keep it in spite of Nina’s tears that he should stay.

“Nina’ll die, or somebody’ll die, I know,” and the little girl clung sobbing to his neck, when the hour of parting came.

Very gently he unclasped her clinging arms; very tenderly he kissed her lips, bidding her give one to Miggie, and then he left her, turning back ere he reached the gate, as a new idea struck him.  Would Nina go with him; go to her Florida home, if so he would defer his journey a day or so.  He wondered he had not thought of this before.  It would save him effectually, and he anxiously waited her answer.

“If Miggie goes I will, but not without.”

This was Nina’s reply, and Arthur turned a second time away.

In much surprise, Edith, who came that afternoon, heard of Arthur’s departure.

“Why did he go without bidding me good-bye?” she asked.

“I don’t know, but he left a kiss for you right on my lips,” said Nina, putting up her rosebud mouth for Edith to take what was unquestionably her own.