too, my darling,
would have been spared the wretched experience of which you have told
me."

"I do not mind so much for myself, but was in despair sometimes to
see how much mamma missed and needed the comforts to which she had
always been accustomed," said Edith, the tears rolling over her cheeks
as she remembered the patient sufferer who never murmured, even when
she was enduring the pangs of hunger.

"Well, dear, do not grieve," said Mrs. Stewart, folding her in a fond
embrace. "I know, from what you have told me, that you did your utmost
to shield her from every ill; and, judging from what you have said
regarding the state of her health at the time of Mr. Allandale's
death, I believe she could not have lived very much longer, even under
the most favorable circumstances. Now, my child," she continued, more
brightly, and to distract the girl's thoughts from the sad past,
"since everything is all explained, tell me something about these new
friends of whom you have spoken--Mr. Bryant, Mrs. Morrell and Mr.
Raymond."

Edith blushed rosily at the mention of her lover's name, and almost
involuntarily she slipped her hand into her pocket and clasped a
letter that lay concealed there.

"Mr. Bryant is the gentleman in whose office I was working at the time
of mamma's death," she explained. "He, too, was the one who was so
kind when I got into trouble with the five-dollar gold piece, and so
it was to him I applied for advice, after escaping from Emil
Correlli."

"Ah!" simply remarked Mrs. Stewart, but she was quick to observe the
shy smile that hovered about the beautiful girl's mouth while she was
speaking of Roy.

"I telegraphed him to meet me when I should arrive in New York," Edith
resumed, "because I knew it would be late, and I did not know where it
would be best for me to go. He did so, and took me directly to his
cousin, and that is how I happened to be with Mrs. Morrell."

Mrs. Stewart put one taper finger beneath Edith's pretty, round chin,
and gently lifting her downcast face, looked searchingly into her
eyes.

"Darling, you are very fond of Mr. Bryant, are you not?" she softly
questioned.

Instantly the fair face was dyed crimson, and, dropping her head upon
her mother's shoulder, she murmured:

"How can I help it?"

"And he is going to win my daughter from me? I hope he is worthy."

"Oh, he is noble to the core of his heart," was the earnest reply.

"I believe he must be, dear, or you could not