Georgie’s demon was possessing her again, and her black eyes blazed with passion as she thought of Edna Browning; but she could not do her harm, and she must pretend to like her, through her great fear of Maude, whom she felt as if she hated, too, until she remembered Annie; and then there came a gush of tears, which cooled her feverish passion, and made her more humble and subdued, as in her velvet slippers she paced the floor noiselessly, until she heard a distant clock striking the hour of two. There was to be a croquet party at Leighton on the morrow, and knowing how mental agitation and loss of sleep told upon her looks, Georgie ceased her rapid walking, and bathing her flushed face profusely with water, crept shivering to bed, and by a strong effort of the will, such as but few can practise, she succeeded in quieting her nerves, and slept peacefully at last. CHAPTER XXX. AT LEIGHTON. It was a very pretty picture which greeted Roy’s vision next morning, when, at an earlier hour than usual, he arose and sauntered out into the garden, glancing involuntary toward Miss Overton’s window, and noticing that it was open, but seeing no signs of its owner near it. Edna was in the garden before him, gathering a bouquet for the breakfast table, and looking so fresh, and bright, and beautiful, with the flush of early girlhood upon her face, and the deep peace shining in her brown eyes, that Roy felt his pulse beat faster as he approached her and passed the compliments of the morning. “You are an early riser,” he said, “and your cheeks show the good effects of it; they are almost as bright as the rose in your hand.” “The fates forbid. So high a color as that would be vulgar, you know,” Edna replied, laughing back at him, and then continuing: “Perhaps you think me a trespasser, or even worse, a thief; but I assure you I am neither. Mrs. Churchill told me yesterday to gather flowers whenever I liked, and I thought the breakfast table might be improved with a bouquet. I always used to get one for Uncle Phil, when I could.”