And Jeanie, the real victim of the accident, after a long illness, recovered sufficiently to be taken home. Dr. Somers believed, with professional pride and a little human sympathy, that he had effected a cure on Jeanie mentally as well as physically; but whether her gentle mind was quite restored was, of course, a matter which time alone could prove. Edgar, who had been absent since the day after he received intelligence of Clare’s engagement, returned to take his relations home. But it was not till a month after Clare’s marriage that he reappeared finally in Arden to say good-bye to all his friends. The bride and bridegroom had not yet returned, which was a relief to him; and his company was a great solace and consolation to the feeble Rector, with whom he lived. “Ah, Edgar, if you would but stay with me and be my son,” the old man would say wistfully, as he leaned upon his vigorous arm. “I have no one now whom I can lean upon, who will close my eyes and see me laid in my grave. Edgar, if it were God’s will, before you go away I should be glad to be there.” “Don’t say so,” said Edgar. “Everybody loves you; and my--I mean Mrs. Arden--you must not withdraw your love from her.” Mr. Fielding shook his head. “She will not want my love,” he said. “Never could I give up Clare, however I might disapprove of her; but she will not want me. Nobody wants me; and the last fag-end of work is dreary, just before the holiday comes; but I am grumbling, Edgar. Only I’ll be sadly dull when you go, that’s all.” “And I cannot stay, you know,” said Edgar, with a sigh. “No,” said the old man, echoing it. That was the only thing that was impossible. He could not stay. The Thornleighs were at Thorne, and Lady Augusta had written him an anxious, affectionate note, bidding God bless him, but begging him, by all he held dear, not to show himself to Gussy, who was ill and nervous, and could not bear any shock. Poor Edgar put the letter in his pocket and tried to smile. “She might have trusted me,” he said. He was not to go near Thorne; he could not approach Arden; but he went to the poor folk in the village, and received many tearful adieus. Old Miss Somers threw her arms round him and cried. “Oh, Edgar, my dear, my dear!----” she said, “how shall I ever----; and I who thought you would be always----, and meant to leave you what little I have. It is all left to you, Edgar, all the same. Oh, if you would not go! I daresay now they will never return. Though she is your sister, my dear, I must say---- If I were Clare I would never more come back to the Hall----” “But I trust she will, and be very happy there, and that you will be all to her you have ever been,” said Edgar, kissing the wrinkled old hand. “Oh, my dear boy! Oh, Edgar, God will reward---- Kiss me, my dear; though you are a gentleman, I am so old, and ill; it can’t matter, you know. Kiss me, Edgar! and God bless----; and if ever there was one in this world that should have a reward----”