Sir Arthur ate his breakfast absorbed in journals and papers; and Eda, though she loved him, had still doubts and hesitations, which prevented her from speaking to her uncle on the subject predominant in her thoughts. At length he looked at his watch, and rose suddenly, saying, "I must leave you, dear Eda. It is strange that Mr. Norries has not arrived, as I expected him on business." No mention was made of the peculiar influence that the one party possessed over the other; and the tone, too, was so commonplace, that Eda began to imagine she had been over-penetrating, and had imagined things that did not exist; so that she saw her uncle depart with comparative tranquillity, and remained alone for near an hour, trying to occupy herself with the ordinary amusements of the morning. At the end of that time, however, her maid opened the door of her own little sitting-room, saying, "Miss Clive, ma'am," and Helen was soon seated by Eda Brandon. "What is the matter, Helen dear," said Eda, as the other, at her invitation, sat down on the sofa beside her. "You look pale; and agitated I am sure you are; for however we may hide it, dear Helen, and however difficult it may be to detect in line or feature, the anxiety of the heart writes itself upon the face in characters faint but very distinct. You are anxious about something, Helen. Something has gone amiss. Tell me, dear Helen; for I think I need not say that if I can console or help, you have only to tell the how, to Eda Brandon." "You are ever kind to your own little Helen, as you used to call me in my childhood, Eda," replied her beautiful companion. "You were then but a child yourself, but from that day to this there has been no change, and it is time that I should try to return the kindness. Dearest Eda, it is you I am anxious for--at least yours; and I cannot refrain from telling you what I know, in the hope that you may be able to avert the danger; but you must promise me first not to mention one word to any one of that which I am about to say." "But, my dear Helen, how can I avert danger if I may not mention to any one the circumstances?" inquired Eda. "I am a very weak, powerless creature, Helen; and as you say the danger menaces mine more than myself, if I must speak of it to no one, how can I warn them." "Listen, listen, Eda!" was the answer. "You must not indeed tell what I relate, except as I point out; but still you shall have room enough to warn those you love of the danger their own acts are bringing upon them. Do you promise, Eda?" "Certainly, Helen," replied Eda Brandon; "it is for you to speak or be silent; and I must take your intelligence on your own conditions. Yet I think you might trust me entirely to act for the best, Helen."