“Poor boy--poor dear boy!” said Lady Augusta. And then she entered into the subject eagerly, and asked a hundred questions. How it had been found out--what he was going to do--what Arthur Arden’s position would be--whether there ought not to be some provision made for Edgar? She inquired into all these matters with the eagerness of a woman who knew a great deal about business and was deeply interested for the sufferer. “But you must not suppose there was anything between him and my daughter,” she repeated piteously; “there never was--there never was!” In the meantime, Edgar had gone hastily, with a thrill of sadness and of pleasure which it would be difficult to describe, to the room where Gussy was. He went in suddenly, excitement and emotion having brought a flush upon his cheeks. She was standing with her back to the door, and turned round as he opened it. Gussy was very much agitated--she grew red and she grew pale, her hands, which she extended to him, trembled, tears filled her eyes. “O Mr. Arden!” was all she was able to say. As for Edgar, his heart so melted over her that he had hard ado to refrain from taking her into his arms. It would have been no harm, he thought--his embrace would have been that of a brother, nothing more. “It is very, very good of you to come,” he said, his own voice faltering and breaking in spite of him. “I don’t know how to thank you. It makes me feel everything so much less--and so much more.” “I could not help coming,” said Gussy, with a choking voice. “O Mr. Arden, I am so grieved--I cannot speak of it--I could not let you go without--without----” She trembled so that he could not help it--he drew her hand through his arm to support her. And then poor Gussy, overwhelmed, all her self-restraint abandoning her, drooped her head upon his shoulder as the nearest thing she could lean upon, and burst into tears. There had never been a moment in her life so sad--or in either of their lives so strangely full of meaning. A few days ago they were all but affianced bride and groom, likely to pass their entire lives together. Now they met in a half embrace, with poignant youthful feeling, knowing that never in their lives would they again be so near to each other, that never more could they be anything to each other. It was the first time, and it would be the last. “Dear Gussy,” Edgar said, putting his arm softly round her, “God bless you for being so good to me. I will cherish the thought of you all my life. You have always been sweet to me, always from the beginning; and then I thought---- But, thank God, you are not injured. And thank you a thousand and a thousand times.” “Oh, don’t, don’t!” cried Gussy. “Don’t thank me, Mr. Arden. I think my heart will break.” “Don’t call me Mr. Arden; call me Edgar now; it is the only name I have a right to; and let me kiss you once before we part.”