Mrs. Murray frowned, and continued gravely:

"Don't be silly, Edna. It is proper that you should go to the table,
and learn to eat with a fork instead of a knife. You need not be
ashamed to meet people; there is nothing clownish about you unless
you affect it. Good-night; I shall see you at breakfast; the bell
rings at eight o'clock."

There was no escape, and she awoke next morning oppressed with the
thought of the ordeal that awaited her. She dressed herself even
more carefully than usual, despite the trembling of her hands; and
when the ringing of the little silver bell summoned her to the
dining-room, her heart seemed to stand still. But though exceedingly
sensitive and shy, Edna was brave, and even self-possessed, and she
promptly advanced to meet the trial.

Entering the room, she saw that her benefactress had not yet come
in, but was approaching the house with a basket of flowers in her
hand; and one swift glance around discovered Mr. Murray standing at
the window. Unobserved, she scanned the tall, powerful figure clad
in a suit of white linen, and saw that he wore no beard save the
heavy but closely-trimmed moustache, which now, in some degree,
concealed the harshness about the handsome mouth. Only his profile
was turned toward her, and she noticed that, while his forehead was
singularly white, his cheeks and chin were thoroughly bronzed from
exposure.

As Mrs. Murray came in, she nodded to her young protegee, and
approached the table, saying: