Edith. The radiant flush of youth and hope
rendering her sweet face eloquent of joy and pride, was replaced by the
cold, sad hues of wounded affections and proud despair. I could read in
her countenance, as in a book, the sad record of long months of wearing
sorrow, vain regrets, and bitter self-reproach. Her person, too, had lost
its rounded, airy, graceful outline, and had become thin and angular.
Her voice, albeit, was musical and gentle as ever, as she murmured, on
recovering her senses, "You will protect me from my--from that man?" As I
warmly pressed her hand, in emphatic assurance that I would shield her
against all comers, another loud summons was heard at the door. A minute
afterwards, a servant entered, and announced that Mr. Harlowe waited for
me below. I directed he should be shown into the library; and after
iterating my assurance to Edith that she was quite safe from violence
beneath my roof, and that I would presently return to hear her
explanation of the affair, I went down stairs.

Mr. Harlowe, as I entered, was pacing rapidly up and down the apartment.
He turned to face me; and I thought he looked even more perturbed and
anxious than vengeful and angry. He, however, as I coldly bowed, and
demanded his business with me, instantly assumed a bullying air and tone.

"Mrs. Harlowe is here: she has surreptitiously left South Audley Street
in a hired cab, and I have traced her to this house."

"Well?"

"Well! I trust it is well; and I insist that she instantly return to
her home."

"Her _home_!"

I used the word with an expression significative only of my sense of the
sort of "home" he had provided for the gentle girl he had sworn to love
and cherish; but the random shaft found a joint in his armor at which it
was not aimed. He visibly trembled, and turned pale.

"She has had time to tell you all then! But be assured, sir, that nothing
she has heard or been told, however true it may be--_may_ be, remember,
I say--can be legally substantiated except by myself."

What could the man mean? I was fairly puzzled: but, professionally
accustomed to conceal emotions of surprise and bewilderment, I coldly
replied--"I have left the lady who has sought the protection of her true
'home,' merely to ascertain the reason of this visit."

"The reason of my visit!" he exclaimed with renewed fury: "to reconvey
her to South Audley Street. What else? If you refuse to give her up, I
shall apply to the police."

I smile