CHAPTER XXVI. AFTER ANOTHER YEAR. Roy Leighton remained abroad little more than a year, and about the middle of July came back to his home on the river, which had never seemed so pleasant and attractive as on the summer afternoon when he drove through the well-kept grounds, and up to the side door where his servants were assembled to welcome him. Travelling had not greatly benefited his mother, who returned almost as much an invalid as when she went away, and to her ailments now added that of rapidly failing eyesight. There were films growing over both her eyes, so that she could only see her beautiful home indistinctly, and after greeting the domestics, she went at once to her room, while Roy repaired to the library, where he found several letters, which had come for him within the last few days. One was in Miss Jerusha Pepper’s handwriting, and Roy opened that first, and found, as he expected, that it inclosed one from Edna. She did not write in her usual cheerful tone, and seemed sorry that she had not been able to make him a single payment during the year. “My school is not so large as at first,” she wrote; “and I was anxious to pay another debt, of which I once told you, I believe. I _have_ paid that now, except twenty-five dollars of interest money, and you don’t know how happy it makes me that I can almost see my way clear, and shall soon owe no one but yourself. “I am glad that you are coming home again, for though I do not know you, it has seemed lonely with you so far away, and I gladly welcome you back again. If I thought your mother would not be angry, I would send my love to her, but if you think she will, don’t give it to her, please.” “I shall take the risk, any way,” Roy thought; and carrying the letter to his mother, he read it aloud, and as she seemed interested, and inclined to talk, proposed going to see Miss Pepper, and ascertain, if possible, where Edna was. Mrs. Churchill did not quite favor this plan, and still she did not directly oppose it, but sat talking of “the girl,” as she designated her, until the summer twilight was creeping down the hills and across the river, and Georgie Burton came in with Maude Somerton. It was more than a year since Georgie had met Roy, and she assumed towards him a shy, coy manner, which rather pleased him than otherwise, and made him think her greatly improved. Maude was her same old self, chatty, full of life and spirits, and a little inquisitive withal. “Had Mrs. Churchill or Roy ever heard from Mrs. Charlie during their absence, and where did they suppose she was?” Roy answered that “he had heard from her a few times by way of her aunt, but that he did not know where she was, as she still chose to keep her place of abode a secret from them.”