n."

"Oh, Mrs. Sefton, how dreadful!"

"Yes, is it not heart-breaking? Poor Neville! and he is so devoted to
her. They were to have been married next spring, but now Edna declares
that nothing would induce her to marry him. She will have it that he is
jealous and monopolizing, and that he distrusts her. Over and over again
she told us both that she would be the slave of no man's caprice. Of
course it is all her temper; she is just mad with him because he is
always in the right, and she knows how ungenerously she has acted; but
bye and bye she will repent, and break her heart, for she is certainly
fond of him, and then it will be too late."

"And she has really sent him away?"

"Yes; she told him to go, that she never wanted to see him again; and he
has gone, poor fellow! Richard drove him to the station. He says he
never saw a man so terribly cut up, but he told Richard, just at the
last, that perhaps it might prove the best for them in the end, that
they were not suited to each other, and never had been, but that Edna
had never shown him her temper quite so plainly before."

"Oh, Mrs. Sefton, how terrible it all seems! Can nothing be done?"

"Nothing," in a voice of despair. "Richard and I have talked to her for
hours, but it is no use. She declares that it is a good thing she and
Neville at last understand each other, that she will never repent her
decision, and yet all the time she looks utterly wretched. But she will
not own it; it is just her pride and her temper," finished the unhappy
mother, "and I must stand by and see her sacrifice her own happiness,
and say nothing."

"May I go up to her, Mrs. Sefton? Do you think she would care to see
me?"

"I think she will see you now, and it is not good for her to be alone;
but you will find her very hard and impracticable."

"I shall not mind that, if she will only let me be with her a little;
but I cannot bear to think of her shut up with only miserable thoughts
to keep her company;" and here Bessie's eyes filled with tears, for she
was very sympathetic and soft-hearted.

"Then go to her, my dear, and I hope you may do her some good." And
Bessie went at once.

Just outside the door she met Richard; he was on his way to the
drawing-room.

"I am going up to Edna," she said, as he looked at her inquiringly. "Oh,
Mr. Sefton, I am so sorry for her! She is making herself and every one
else miserable."

"I am more sorry for Sinclair," he returned, and his face