"
"He wanted to marry you?" Gifford suggested.
Edith Morriston gave a little shudder. "I suppose so. He was always
making love to me, and was quite impervious to snubbing. When, in
consequence of my keeping within bounds of the house and garden, he could
not see me, he took to writing, and kept me in terror lest one of his
letters should fall into my stepmother's hands. I wished afterwards that
I had taken a bold line, confessed what had happened, and defied the
consequences. I think it was the fear of being disgraced in my brother's
eyes on his return which kept me from doing so.
"In the midst of my worry my father fell into a state of bad health and
we took him down to the Devonshire coast for change of air. Needless to
say Henshaw soon found out our retreat, and to my dismay appeared there.
His persecution went on with renewed vigour and I, having less chance
there of escaping it, was nearly at my wits' end, when fate curiously
enough again intervened. We were caught in a storm on a long country
excursion, my stepmother got a severe chill and within a week was dead.
We returned to Haynthorpe, my father being now in a very precarious state
of health, Henshaw followed us with a pertinacity that was almost
devilish.
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