THE NOVELIST.

Otago Witness, Issue 1682, 16 February 1884, Page 24

THE NOVELIST.

®ttt itf $M».

A NOVEL.

Bt DORA RUSSELL.

Author of "The Vicar's Governess," " Footprints in the Snow," " Cioesus' Widow," &c.

CHAPTER V. Tho young Baronet. HE gunroom at Westwood bad been planned and built by the late Mr ■ Chester, and was indeed one of the prettiest i rooms in the house. It was ; p-innelled with dark- stained wood, and the ceiling was also 1 of ornamental wood-work, and it opened with-a glass door on a little terrace, from which there was a lovely view, and in the blue distance a silver streak <of the placid lake. Robert Fletcher reached this room absolutely pale with apprehension. What might have happened ! he was thinking. What terrible memories might have come back to Florence, and undone all the care, nursing, and anxiety of weeks ! Yet this was the picture he saw as he entered the gunroom : It was empty, but the glass door to the terrace outside was open, and standing on this terrace was young Sir Harry Blunt. Ho was leaning on a gun, laughing and talking, and looking down at Florence Chester, who was sitting on a low seat, and smiling up in Sir Harry's ordinary face ! Robert— a moment before pale with fear, now grew red with sudden anger. There was to him Homething unseemly in this , picture. True, weeks nad passed since Mj: Chester's death, and Florence had smiled and chatted to him many a time -of late, just as Bhe waa now smiling and chatting to Sir Harry." "But that is different," frowned Robert Fletcher, and with this frown still on bis brow, he joined the two young psople on the terrace. Sir' Harry looked up annoyed when he saw him. " Oh— Mr Fletcher," he said, in his patronising way, " Good morning — you see I've fot here before you, and got my rifle, too— lisa Cheater has been good enough to get it for me," And again, ha smiled at Florence,

"Yes," said Florence, rising from her lowly seat, " I knew where it was — poor father " (and her faco changed) " showed it to me, and I got it for Sir H.irry." " I am sorry that you should havo had the trouble," said Robert Fletcher, stiffly ; " but I did not expect Sir Henry would be here so / soon." " Oh, as for that," said Sir Harry, carelessly. " I was out early, so I called ; but, Miss Chester," he added, " it's such a splendid morning, do let me persuade you to go for a row on the lake. Mr Fletcher here will send round for the boat — I wish you .would go." But after one glance at Robert's face, Florence herself seemed to see tho unfitness of this proposition. " No, not this morning," she said ; " no, really I cannot go — I' have been such an invalid, you know — and — and I would rather not go." " Well, some other day, then," said Sir i Harry, rather- sulkily, for this young iruin was unused to disappointment of any kind, and made his own pleasure always his first consideration. " I say, Mi Flotchor," he continued, "about that horse you were talking of —could I see him just now ?" I "Ye 3, certainly, Sir Hnnry," replied Robett. "You will find my sister still in tho garden," he added, looking at Florence. Florence smiled and' nodded, and then the two young men left her, going down from tho 1 little terrace into the grounds below. "That's a splendid girl of old Chester's," were the young baronet's first words after they were fairly on their road to the stables, and out of hearing. " What a pair of eyes she's got ! She's a glorious girl, and good fun too." Robert bit his lips, and made a very curt answer. " She is considered handsome," he said. " I should think.so," continued Sir Harry. " I like that sort — those dark, dangerous eyes mean so much." Robert Fletcher growled out something, and tried to change the conversation. But young Sir Harry persisted in talking of Florence, and expiated on her charms in such a manner that Robert felt an almost irresistible widh to knock him down. He pulled up a little, however, presently, out of consideration of the presence of the stableboy, and at last Robert got rid of him, and returned to the house, going back by the gunroom terrace, vi Inch was his nearest road. But to his surprise when he entered the gunroom he found Florence still there. She was standing leaving her hand on the back of her father's arm-chair, and when she lifted her head on hearing his footstep, Robert saw she was crying. " Oh, you are back ? " sho said gently. " Poor father every thing here reminds me of him." "Yes," said Robert, "but I think we had better join Mary now j I have just got rid of that young cub." " Sir Harry ? Is he a cub ? " asked Florence, and she half smiled even amid her tears. " Well, what do you think ? " "Oh, I don't know — I have never thought about him at all," replied Florence ; and so the frown vanished from Robert's brow, and he told himself he was no better than a fool. " A fellow like that," he thought, with porhaps a little complacent vanity. " He's a cool young cub at any rate," he said, looking with his smiling eyes at Florence. " Fancy him asking you to go out in a boat ! " "Oh, I suppose he thinks himself master here," said Florence. " I suppose so," answered Robert with a shrug. And there was no doubt that Sir Harry did think himself master, and during the next few days Robert had anything but a pleasant office, in refusing, by Lady Blunts express desire, to allow her son to know the particulars of tho late agent's affairs. Young Harry, in fact, openly (to his mother) accused Robert Fletcher of trying to cheat them, and was somewhat astonished at his mothei's stern reproof. " Youdonot know what you are speaking of," she said, " this yonng man, Robert Fletcher, is, I believe, not only trustworthy, but honourable in every sense of the word. He is a better man than his father, Harry," she added bitterly, " base-born though he be ! " "Credit to the family, eh? Near relation isn't he ? " gibed young Harry. " You might have spared me that, Henry," replied the mother, "but he's your father's son — your father's son." And Lady Blunt walked to the window of the room, and stood looking out at the still fair scene. She had aged greatly this lady during the last few weeks, and her thin form had lost somewhat of its erectness, and her cold eyes were sunken and dimmed. No one, not even Robert Fletcher, knew what she had suffered when she had been forced to speak to him and also to hpr bankers, of Mr Chester's unfortunate affairs. . In Robert Fletcher she bad been obliged to a certain extent to confide, but she did not do this at the Bank. She allowed them there to suppose that tho large sums drawn out in her name bad been lost in some business speculations of her own. She wished them to think this, but she probably did not really deceive them, for the tragedy that had ended Mr Chester's career told its own tale, following so closely as it had dope after the visit of one of the partners to Weirmere. But the stern, broken-hearted, and unbusinesslike woman imagined that she was thus keeping her solemn promise to the dead. She would spare his memory, and to Robert Fletcher alone she was forced -to admit with quivering lips, that irregularities had occurred, and that rents and great sums of money were absolutely unaccounted for. • " He was not himself," she used to repeat, when some startling disclosure was obliged to be brought to her notice. It was pitiable to Robert Fletcher to see the worn look of pain on her face when she spoke of these things. But she was quite loyal to her friend's memory. She spoke to no one on the Subject but Robert, and her wealth made her new arrangements comparatively easy. She could not, however, quite close the lips of her son. This younsr man heard the scandal and gossip that Lady Blunt would not allow to be alluded ti in her presence, and he asked his mother poiat-blank some very awkward questions. " How many thousands did old Chester really rob us of mother ?" he said to her on the first night of his unexpscred, and at the time unwelcome, ariival at Weirmere. " A fellow has a right to know, hasn't he ?" " You have no right to say such things," answered his mother coldly. " Oh, that's all very fine, but ennaidoring I have a remarkably strong interest in it, I think I have a right, and as for this new man, this Fletcher, wh&t do you know of him ?" It was then that Lady Blunt had told her Ron that Robert was "a better man than his father," and a strong feeling of dislike somehow roso in the young -baronet's mind to tho idea of Robert's appointment to the agency of the estates. "It was given by your father's express desire," answered Lady Blunt. -' Cool of the old boy, I must rcy, to leave

you such a legacy I If I had been you I would have left his express desire to whistle to the winds," answered Sir Harry. " The wishes of the dead are very sacred things, Hurry." . tiii- Harry shrugged his shoulders. He did 1 not remember hw father,' and ho perhaps naturally had not much reverence for his memoiy. It displeased him the thought of this unacknowledged relationship, and when in the evening he was introduced to Robert, he treated the now agent very superciliously. But after their meetiug on the following day at Wesfcwood-house, young Harry somewhat relaxed his proud bearing. He wanted in* deed, to talk about Florence Chester, for he v/as not of a reserved nature, and would have talked to his groom about her if no one else had been near. So he questioned Robert pretty sharply both about the late Mr Chester's affaiis and hte daughter's. But Lady Blunt had already warned her agent not to contido in her son. " Harry is but a boy," _ she saisl, " he" could not .understand — he might mistake the — the unfortunate errors into which poor Mr Chester's overwrought brain unhappily brought him. In a year or two, with_ economy, if I am spared, I can replace this money, and Harry will be no poorer when he comes into ' the estates, which, aa you know, he does not until after my death, for Sir Henry Blunt especially lett everything to me — his own fortune as well as mine— except the two annuities. Both Robert Fletcher's brown face, and Lady Blunts neutral -tinted one, flushed at the mention of these two annuities. It was the first allusion Lady Blunt had, made to Robert's birth, and in a moment Robert's face grew scarlet, and he bit his lips with quick emotion. " I have decided," continued Lady Blunt a minute later, %i to allow another five hundred a year to Harry, which will make his income a thousand, and until he marries I think thai is enough He is only litre for a •few days, and before he returns he will have forgotten all his curiosity — therefore please say nothing to him, Air Fletcher ; it ia my particular wish that you do not." So Robert only gave very brief answers to Sir Harry's " curiosity," and Sir Harry did not love him any better for doing so. But the additional five hundred a year his mother was about to allow him was rather a sop, " The old woman is very rich, isn't she ?" he said to Robert. " That confounded will of my father's ia a nice document, I must say ! Fancy a fellow coming into a title on • five hundred a year — it's too absurd !" "The late Sir Henry Blunt" came into his title on less, I believe," answered Robert, with a somewhat grim smile. " Your father was a ruined man, Sir Harry, when ho married Lady Blunt. 11 But some old fellow left him a fortune, didn't he?" " Yes, but it wa3 left entirely in his own power — not entailed — and Sir Henry thought it justice to leave everything to his wife, I presume, as but for her fortune he would have been a bankrupt for many years." " Humph !"' grunted Sir Harry, and he turned away, and Robert Fletcher stood for a few momonts looking after him, with some very mingled feelings struggling in his heart. He was not good-looking, this young heir to so many estates, and yet he was not absolutely plain. Ho was short, with fairly regular features, and a dull* somewhat mottled skin. He had inherited his mother's complexion — the neutral tints blurred and reddened in his case by the effects of "merry nights" and thirsty days. "He is a stupid young follow," thought Robert, though not unkindly, as ho looked after him. But later iv the day Robert's half good-natured, half-contemptuous foolings for Sir Harry again considerably changed. This alteration wad brought abouh by finding him sitting on the garden seat at Westwood House, between the two girl.°, Bessie and Florence Chester, apparently voiy much at his ease. Had Robert known how long ha had &at there he would have felt more angry still. He had his gun and 'his dogs beside him, and Robert not unnaturally concluded that hs had been shooting on the hills round Westwood, and had merely strolled into the garden on seeing tho girls there as he passed. But the truth w.xs that Sir Harry had been more than two hours at Westwood IJonse, and he. had gone there purposely to see Florence Chester. He had seen her nearly every day since that first accidental meeting when her shining dark eyes had made such an impression on his heart, and his mother had also made a communication to him at lunch after he had seen Robert, which made him particularly anxious to see Florence. Lady Blunt had informed her son, not without considerable hesitation of manner, that she intended to offer her old friend Mr Chester's daughters a home at the Hull. She expected some opposition to her proposal from Harry, but to her surprise, the young man said nothing. " He asked me to do this, Harry, in his last letter," continued Lady Blunt, casting- down her eyes, " otherwise I think it scarcely desirable — but one of them at least will not, T think, remain with me — they tell me, and I have goed reason to know also, that Mr Fletcher will propose for 1 lorence, the second girl, and I consider it v/ill be a very suitable match for them both." Sic Harry looked quickly up at his mother on hearing this, gave a little whistle, and then hastily took up a knife and fork, and began carving the ham before him very much at random. " Have you seen her this time ?" said Lady Blunt. "Her poor father and some others have, thought her pretty, but I do not ~I do not admirß her style." " She's got dark eyes, hasn't sho ?" said Sir Harry, going on with his carving. " Yes — oh, she is not pretty — but it's a charge to have two girls to look after, and I shall be very glad indeed when Mr Fletcher marries her." * " Then are they engaged ?" asked Sir Harry. " No, not that I know of— indeed I am sura they are not, but there is no doubt she will ba only too glad to take him ; I am very ploased —her poor father, I am sure, would be pleased." Sir Harry said nothing more. He finished his lunch, and he called for his dogs, and tak ing his gun he left the Hall, and then he went straight up to Westwood House. Mary Fletcher had left the day before, and returned to her brother's cottage by the lake-side ; and Bessie and Florence Chester wove thus alone. They had just finished their early midday meal when they saw Sir Harry and his dogs enter the garden. " Here is that young man again," said Bessie Chester, and she gave a little'laugh and looked at Florence. Bessie Cheater was a plain, colourless likeness of her attractive younger sister. Lady Blunt used to decliro the sisters were extremely like each other, and to some extent they were. But the differonce between them was really very great. It was tho difference bet^oen a perfect blossom on the ff&us© plant

and an imperfect one. There wa^ a family resemblance, but there was no beauty whatever in Bessie's ordinary face. "That young mau again !" she said mirier common-place way, and laughed, and Florence also laughed 'while Sir Harry was ringing at the hall-door bell. . They both went and met him as he was coming in and received him in a friendly fashion. „ „. TT " It's a jolly day, isn't it?" said Sir Harry. " Come out, won't you, and lot us sit in the garden?" „ , The sisters went with him outside, and as they stood together a moment on the grass in front Sin Harry half whispered a sentenco in Florence's ear? " I say," ho said, " come along with mo for a minute, I've got something to say to you," Bessie heard the half whispor and discreetly turned away her head, and then stooped down and began arrangiug one of her flower beds, while Sir Harry and Florence strolled away in »v opposite direction. " What do you think the old woman has been saying to mo ? ' began Sir Harry. "Lady Blunt?" asked Florence, with a suddau accession of colour.

" Yes, my mother. Woll, to begin with she has been telling me that she is going to able you to live ac the Hall— you and your s>istor— your father, it seems asked mother to do this in his last letter "

He was interrupted hero by a kind of halfcry from Florence, and looking quickly at her, he saw that she had become greatly agitated. " I— l should not have said that," he hastily added. " I bog your pardon, Miss Florence ; please forgive me." "Go on !" said Florouce, in a low tone. " What else did he say in his last letter ?" " Oh, she didn't tell me ; she's a close one, my mother— all she said was— well, just what l'vo told you— but sho added something — well, that made me stare a bit." "What was it ?"' "That you are going to marry, or that she expGcts you will marry, Mr Fletcher. Now that's what I want to know the truth about. :> " It is not tine !" said Florence, with sudden vehemence. " How dare Lady Blunt say such a thing— it is utterly untrue !" "Thought so," said Sir Harry with satisfaction. " Didn't believe you would marry a fellow like thut — but I wanted- to know — and now, I say, you'll come and live at the Hall, won't you ?" " No, I won't," answered Florence ; " no, no, 1 won't !" "Oh ! yes, but do," mged the young man, " and you and I will have no end of fun— we'll row together and flab — and if the old lady makes a row — well, we needn't mind her much," added Sir Harry, with a significant laugh. But Florence gave no responding smile. She was thinking of her father, and scarcely heard what the young man said. She stood there " beautiful as a picture," thought Sir Hany, looking admiringly at the girl with thesun shining down on her uncovered dark hair and on her variable face, through which her thoughts seemed to pabs like the wind quivering through the aspen leaves. You saw, as it were, the unseen on that ever-ehang ing countenance, and even Sir Harry's dim soul read , at this moment that she was not thinking of him but of her dead father. "I don't like that Fletcher, do you?"' presently said Sir Harry, anxious to break tho melancholy spell. Then with a sigh and an effort Florence recalled herself. "Yea," she said, still somewhat absently, " Oh, yes, I like him— my poor father used to like him, and his sister was bo good to me. Oh ! so good, when I was very ill." "She nursed you, and that kind of thing, didn't she?" " Yes, and was so very kind till I got woll — but its the strangest thing, and she is so queer, she wanted to go away as soon as ever I could go out, and she grew quite different — not gentle and tender, almost as she used to be. I don't think she is happy, " added Florence, looking at Sir Harry, whose nature was too unsympathetic to quite follow Florence's meaning. " Can't say," was his practical reply. " But she's handsome, don't you think ?" " Oh, she's lovely," answered Florence with genuine admiration. " Sometimes when I was ill I used to watch her when she was asleep, and I never saw such a beautiful face, or such a complexion. And then, when she used to wake up to do anything for me, she had such a sweet, sweet look, but 1 never could tell how it was, she used to freeze again, and throw back ono's love as it were. But if I were a young man I would be desperately in love with Mary Fletcher," added Florence with a little laugh. " I wouldn't then — hhe's too what you call a linn woman for my taste— l like something different— wkat shall I say, Miss Flo, but you know vary well— trust a woman for that — but I like a slender, graceful little form, and a pair of great, dark eyos— liko somebody's." And young Harry finished wilh a gasp to express his meaning, while a dull, dusky red spread over his face. "Of course," answered Florence lightly, " but let us go back to Bessie ; I get tired when I. stand — you see I am wpak still." So the three young people were Bitting together on Che garden seat in front of the house when Robert FieLcher made hia appearance afc Wesfcwood. " What a bore !" said Sir Harry, as soon as he saw him, and Bessie Chester laughed, and gave a look at Florence to express to her sister that she understood his meaning. Robert, it must be admitted, did not look very pleasant as he approached the young trio sitting on the garden &eat. Ho thought Sir Harry had no business there, and that it was a very good thing the young baronet was leaving Weirmere on the following day. " Have you had good sport ?" he said, after he had spoken to tho two sisters, looking at Sir Harry. " Oh, fair," answered tho young man carelessly, and he rose from his seat, but he did not leave the garden, and after a few more words Robert went into the house, to go on with his weary task among Mr Cheater's papers. But he could not somehow give his mind, to the late agent's muddled accounts. He' was thinking of the dark eyod girl in the garden and the insolent boy by her side. Ho could not see the garden from the back-room where he was sitting, and so presently he went to the dining-room which looked out on the front. Bessie had disappeared, but close to one of the flower-beds bending over it was Floronce Chester and Harry Blunt. The young man seemed urging Florence to give him a flower, and the girl was coying with one she held in her hand. Robert, of course, could nor hear what they said, but the little scene seemed to tell its own tale. " Come, give it to a fellow to take away with him/ Sir Harry was tsajing. " Come, Miss Flo, do." And he made a snatch at tho crimson carnation Florence held in her hand, / Florence laughed and thif>w the flower on the ground, and Sir Harry stoop.cd. down and put iv his b'ottou-'cblo, I

" I'll keep it till I come back," he said, " and then you must give me something better. Well, good-bye for the present, Miss Flo, and you'll go the Hail, won't you, .and do the civil to the old woman ? I'iomise me, now? 1 And he caught her hand ; and Robert, who was watching, felt a burning, an £ r y> jealous pang rush into his heart.

CHAPTER VI. A Kew Home. The sisters at Westwood were somewhat prepared by_ this visit of Sir Harry's, for a communication which they received on the following day from Lady Blunt. Looking grave, as usual, Dr, Humphrey arrived at the ho;ise, and after a few inquiries about Florence's health, he, told them ho had got something very serious to say to them. " You know I am an old friend," he began, " and Lady Blunt has chosen mo to make your poor father's last wishes known to you. When ho died, you reineinbar, he left a sealed letter j lor Lady Blunt." ' " Yes," said Bessie, but Florence's quivering lips could frame no words. *' I grieve to pain you, .Florence," continued Dr Humphrey, gently, "but Lady Blunt wishes you to know the contents of that letter, believing that his last wishes will be sacred to you, as to her. In this letter, then, your father asked Lady Blunt to take chargo of you both, and Lady Blunt is willing and anxious to do this ; in fact she has sent me to explain to you-— to offer you a home with her at' the Hall, and lam very glad that she has done so." "But what else was in that letter?" asked Florence, passionately. "Dr Humphrey, why did poor father do what he did ? " Why did he leave his children, and ask her to take chargo of them, unless there was something else ?" " Florence," answered Dr Humphrey, gravely, and he took her trembling "hand, *' I am very, very torry to pain you,_but your poor father's affairs were fao unfortunately entangled, that they alone account for the— sad end." "Lady Blunt had something to do with it ! I am sure, quite sure she had something to do with it !" repeated Florence, deeply agitated. " You must not blame Lady Blunt, Florence," said Dr Humphrey. " She has acted with the greatest regard, the greatest forbearance to — " "Forbearance !"' cried Florence. " The word slipped out unawares, and you must forgive it. But indeed Lady Blunt means most kindly to you, and to your father's memory, Florence." "I cannot understand it," said Florence, and she began walking excitedly up and down the room. " What does it all mean ? Haa poor father left no money, or 'what is it?" " Unfortunately he has left no money," said Dr Humphrey, casting down his eyes. There was a few moments' silence in the room after this, and then Bessie spoke. " 1 am sure Lady Blunt means kindly, Dr Humphrey," she said, " She has always been kind, but would you mind me speaking to Florence alone for a few minutes ?" " Please do so," answered Dr Humphrey, "it is but natural that two sisters should wish to consult with each other before accepting such si serious offer as this. But if my aavice has any force with you both, I most earnestly advise you to accept it. It is but kindness to tell you that you are not in a position to keep a home far yourselves — and as toi' going out into the world — well its folly — Florence here is not strong enough," smiled the doctor, " and will be getting married, too, some'fine morning soon I expect, so I am sure that for the present you had best' decide to stay with Lady Blunt ; but I'll leave you to talk it over together, and go and have a chafe with Robert Fletcher, whom I hear is in the house." Alter , the doctor had left them Bessie Chester went up to her sister, and put her hand through her arm. "Don't be a fool, Flo," she said. "You hear what the doctor says — wo have no money, and you may as well try to fly as to live without it ; and, besides, we needn't tell everyone, but 1 am almost certain young Harry means to i vopoae for you, and then you'll be independent of my lady." > " She killed poor father," said Florence ; v don't tell me she did not — I know she did — " "Perhaps," interrupted Bessie ; "but what is the useof talking of it, of that miserable day ?" " but whenever I see her, if I go to live with her, whatever happens, I shall always feel sho murdered father." " Then you have a fine revenge in your own hands," said her sister. ''She is as proud aa Lucifer, and it will kill her almost when she finds out young Harry is in love with you. Don't bo a fool, Flo ; let us accept her offer, and tl 6 iJay will come— you trust me, now — when you will have it iv your power to deal her the bitterest blow Bhe ever got." Half an hour later, after this conversation between the sisters, Bessie Chester rapped at at the study door whore Dr Humphrey and Robert Fletcher were enjoying a quiet smoke. " I want to speak to you a moment, Dr Humphrey," said Bessie, putting in her head, and smiling at the two men ; and the doctor jumped out of his arm-chair and came to her in the doorway. "Florence has given her consent at last," she half whispered, " after no end of troubla--but sho will go ; she has promised to go, so will you tell Lady Blnnt we gratefully accept her offer?" "It is the very best thing you can do," answered the doctor. " Yes, tho very best." " If you think so, I am sure it must be," said Bessie, modestly casting down her eyes. " I told Florence that your advice was sure to be good." " Thank you," laughed the doctor, turning round to Robert, who had been anxiously trying to hear this conversation. " Well Fletcher," continued the doctor, addressing him, "it need bs no secret, Miss Bessie has come to tell me that these young ladies have decided to accept Lady Blunt'a offer, and I am sure it is the very best thing they can do." " I hope so," said Robert Fletcher thoughtfully, and the next moment he gave a somwhat restless sigh. After this it was all settled, but there are many things to do and think of in leaving an old home and going to a new one. This was especially the case with tho Chesters. Their home was to bo broken up, and to Bessie Chostor Robert Fletcher was forced to be more confidential about their affairs than he dared be, or even thought of being", to Florence. But bills were to be paid— household bills— and Robert produced the money necessary to pay them, without even telling Beseie that it all came out of his own pocket. 'The furniture had all alrfo to be left behind. There were creditors who insisted on a public nalo of Mr Chetter's effects, though eventually this did not take place, Lady Blunfc and Robert Fletcher having made arrangements to buy the whole. But all these details were very painful, and on the last night of their Btay at Weßtwood Houi'e Florence kept wandering about

the grounds, recalling to Robert Fletcher's mind the pathetic lament of the Scottish maiden on leaving her old home :— " L^w in your wintry beds ye flowers, Aiiaiti yo'Jl flourish fn sh and fair ; Ye Hrdies, dumb in withering bowers, Again yell charm the vocal air. feit here, alas 1 for me nan ra«ir Shall btrdie charm or flow oret einilo : Fart w< 11 <he bonnie banka of Ayr, Farewell, farewell ! swoet Ballochtnyle !" He went up to her, and took her hand, and as the evening shadows feJl around them, and the beloved and familiar objects grew dark to the girl's tear-dimmed Bight, the woids trembled on Robert Fletcher's lips to a&kher to return there— to come back as his wife. But as he tried to frame his meaning in the tendere3t and most considerate terme, Florence herself abruptly spoke. ' , , „ " I shall never come back here," she said, "never, never— as long as I live I will never willingly see my dear old home again— my fathers home !" , . if v I,*. Robert did not take these words in the lignt of a refusal to his not very clearly expressed proposal. He took them for what they were worth— a girl's passionate outburst of grief and sorrow on leaving the house where she had been born, and where everything seemed for the moment sacred to her— hallowed by the memory of her father's love. But he felt that this wa3not the season to say anything more. By-and-bye, invisible, but busy time, would come to his aid, he thought. She was of variable mood, and though the dark spirit was now upon her, the day would come for different and brighter thoughts. So he spoke soothing words to her, but Florence scarcely listened. She was glad when he went away, and when all the rest of the household were in bed, she crept down to the room where her father had spent his last miserable hours, and kneeling down laid her head upon the bed from which his spirit had passed in its bitter agony. "Good-bye, father," she said, "but I will never forget you — never forget who drove you to your death !" This fixed idea was always present in her mind. When Lady Blunts well- appointed carriage arrived the next morning at Westwood, and when the weeping black-robed girls entered it, and were driven from their old home, Florence was still thinking that Lady Blunt hed virtually murdered their father. She thought thia when the grey, gloomy-faced woman in deep mourning also came down to the Hall door to welcome them, and offered her pale lips and faded cheeks to be kissed by the daughters of her dead friend. Bessie Chester responded to this advance with very fair grace, but Florence turned her head away, and only gave her cold trembling hand to Lady Blunt, who looked up surprised, find whose faded cheek flushed at this marked avoidance.

From this moment Lady Blunt knew that Florence Chester hated her. But she sought no explanation, and to do her justice did everything in her power to make the sisters forget their painful position. In the household their arrival was not regarded with satisfaction. Appleby, the "butler, secretly thought that his lady must have gone out of her senses ever to have thought of such a thing, and legarded "poor Chester's daughters " in no position to be waited upon by him. Jenkins, the lady's maid, was especially indignant, as she trembled lest her perquisites should be passed on to " two penniless, girls indeed." But neither Butler nor lady's maid dared to object to Lady Blunts marked command. " Appleby, help James to carry the young ladies' luggage upstairs," she said, perhaps observing that her butler had not yet made any offer of assistance.. " Jenkins, go and help the Misses Chester to unpack, and bang their dresses in the wardrobes very carefully, and see that they have everything they require."

Jenkins tossed her head, but went to look after the " penniless girls," who easily saw she was a very unwilling attendant. "Thank you, we require no help," said Bessie, civilly, but as the weman left the room she had a word to whisper in her sister's ear.

" Never, mind their impudence," she said, " the day will come when if you choose they will all cringe down to you."

But the impulsive, sensitive Florence was wounded to the quick by the cold looks of those around them. All her life she had been accustomed to love and adulation. She had beett her father's pride and darling, and the servants at Westwood had obeyed her and run after her with the most willing and smiling alacrity. She felt so utterly miserable, therefore, in her new home that she declared to her sister before the first day was over that she would not and could not stay there.

" Everyone looks down upon us," she said bitterly ; " these wretched servants are barely civil to us, and every time I look at Lady Blunts face I shudder. Let us go anywhere, Bessie ; I do- not care where, but I cannot stay here." " When did young Harry say he would come back to Weirmere ?" replied the practical elder sister. " And as for going anywhere else, my dear, we have no money to do so. I was obliged to take money from Robert Fletcher that I really believe was his own, even to settle small bills we owed about the village." " What ! you owe money to Robert Fletcher ?" cried Florence.

" Would you have rather owed it to the butcher ?" said Bessie. "We could not have those people coming here dunning us for money, and so Robert asked me to settle everything, and said he would get the money, and from what I hear I do not, believe that Eoor father left a single perny, so it must aye been Robert's own, though he would not say so, for he is very generous."

Bessie said all this quite calmly, but to Florence's stormier nature their whole position was almost too bitter for her to bear.

" I do not wonder poor father shot himself," she said gloomily. " Don r t talk folly, Flo," replied Bessie. "When young Harry comes back everything will be quite different." *• Young Harry's " return, however, was apparently not looked for by his mother until some very distant period. "My son will not be back this year, I expect," said Lady Blunt to the sisters during the evening, by way of conversation. "He has gone abroad ; he was here for a few days lately, but I think I remember him saying that ho saw you once." " Yes, we saw him," said Bessie discreetly, *' he is looking very well." But their first day at Weirmere-Hall did not end without some further news of Sir Harry. Before the evening was over, a servant whom they had left in charge of Westwood House, brought down to the Flail a small sealed packet which had arrived there by the mid- day post after the Cheaters had left, and which was addressed to Florence.

It was from a well-known firm of London jewellers, and when she opened it she found it contained a morocco case in which was encL ssd ft heart-shaped pendant, set with diamonds, and Sir Harry Blunt'e printed card, on which was written in his unformed echonl-boy hand ?

" With best compliments, and hoping to see you very soon." . . , „, "I told you so," said Bessie with mild triumph, as she examined Sir Harry's gift ; " they will not snub us long." (To he Continued.)