"
"Oh, Edward," she said, catching him by the arm and turning her tear-
stained face up towards his own, "you are not angry with me, are you?
Do not let us part in anger. How can I help being jealous when I love
you so? Tell me that you do not hate me--or I shall be wretched all
the time that you are away."
"No, no, of course not--but I must say, I wish that you would not make
such shocking scenes--good-bye."
"Good-bye," she answered as she gave him her shaking hand. "Good-bye,
my dear. If only you knew what I feel here," she pointed to her
breast, "you would make excuses for me." Almost before she had
finished her sentence he was gone. She stood near the door, listening
to his retreating footsteps till they had quite died away, and then
flung herself in the chair and rested her head upon her hands. "I
shall lose him," she said to herself in the bitterness of her heart.
"I know I shall. What chance have I against her? He already cares for
Ida a great deal more than he does for me, in the end he will break
from me and marry her. Oh, I had rather see him dead--and myself too."
Half-an-hour later, Mr. Quest came in.
"Where is Cossey?" he asked.
"Mr. Cossey's father has had a stroke of paralysis and he has gone up
to London to look after him.
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