These words fell upon Edith's ears ominously and threateningly. They
conveyed to her mind a menace dark and gloomy, and showed the full
determination of Wiggins to maintain at all hazards the control that he
had gained over her. Edith therefore was silent, and apprehensive of
evil. She was afraid that she had said too much. It might have been
better not to threaten, or to show her hand prematurely. It might be the
best plan to wait in silence and in patience for Miss Plympton. Wiggins
was desperate. He might take her away, as he darkly hinted, from this
place to some other where Miss Plympton could never find her.

She stood for some time in silence, with her mind full of such thoughts
as these. Wiggins waited for a few moments, and then turned and slowly
left the room. Edith said nothing, and made no effort to recall him, for
she now felt that her situation was growing serious, and that it would
be better for her to think it all over seriously, and not speak to
Wiggins again until she had decided upon some definite plan of action.
She therefore allowed him to take his departure, and soon afterward she
went to her own room, where she remained for hours in deep thought.

At length Mrs. Dunbar brought in dinner. After laying the table she
stood for a few moments in silence looking at Edith; but at length,
yielding to some sudden impulse she came forward, and as Edith looked up
in surprise, she exclaimed, with startling abruptness,

"Oh, how unfortunate! and oh, what a wretched mistake you are under! If
you had not come home so suddenly, all might have been well. We hoped
that you would be content and patient. Mr. Wiggins has plans of immense
importance; they require great quiet and seclusion. Oh, if you could
only have some faith in us!"