"O, but men are different," she assured herself. "I guess I am growing selfish. He will surely come tomorrow,--" and she aroused herself from her despondency and began to dress. Near the completion of her toilet, the maid entered with a card. She took it absently, then started when she read,--Dr. Cadman. "Wishes to see me?" she asked the maid, wonderingly. "He didn't ask to see you, madam, asked for Mr. Hester. When I said he was not at home, he took no notice of me, but stood gazing out of the window, just thinking like, so I thought I would bring the card to you." "Quite right. I will be down very soon," returned Edith, putting the finishing touches to her toilet. Experiencing a warm glow of welcome for her old friend, her spirits rose. She hastened down and entered the parlor softly. George stood with his back to her, looking gravely out of the window, watching the storm. He did not even hear her enter. The scene seemed to have the same fascination for him that it had for her a while ago. "George," she said gently. He started from his reverie and turned. Speechless he stood, with an expression never to be forgotten. His full direct glance shot momentarily joy intermingled with passionate longing. Then he swept her with a look, filled with a great penetrating compassion. His strong features were softened by unfathomable sorrow, and Edith, not understanding, yet felt the influence of his soul strength. At first came an exultant glow--a reaction from her lonely mood. Then came a sudden fear, in answer to his great over-powering sympathy. "George, what has happened?" she exclaimed, feeling the surety of his expressive countenance. His expression changed. He came to her, and taking her hand he said kindly: "Edith, it is several months since I have seen you. It is such a pleasant surprise to do so now. I asked for Mr. Hester, and Mrs. Hester appears." She looked at him wonderingly. Could he change so in one minute? "George, you are evading my question. Do not keep me in suspense. What have you to tell me?" she asked earnestly. "What makes you imagine that I have any news for you, Edith?" he gravely returned. "I cannot tell, but I am sure that you have," she answered. "I came to speak with Mr. Hester," he returned evasively. "Howard will not be home until very late tonight, possibly not until tomorrow." George received this news with a perplexed frown. "I'm more than sorry to hear that. It should be him and not I--Well, it is no use denying it. I have news of a serious nature. Do you feel strong and brave enough to hear it from my lips, instead of Howard's?" George was not aware of her condition, though he guessed it. But he saw no excuse for himself to escape this trying ordeal. "Tell me," answered Edith, and he read in her eyes a new sadness, born of constant anxiety. He took both her cold hands, and held them in his strong warm grasp.