Deserted

With a silent grasp of the hand, Susan and Florence parted, for the latter did not feel that her intimacy warranted any inquiries into Julia’s affairs, and she was conscious that she had stayed from her father’s side too long already. He had been sleeping for some time, the servant told her when she entered the house; and she never knew whether he thoroughly comprehended the faltering tale she told him when he awoke, for the illness he had long striven to keep at bay now prostrated him, and he lay for weeks in a distressing state of weakness. From this he slowly recovered, beneath the unwearying care of his daughter; but his mind was irreparably affected, and his memory of the past so confused that it is difficult to say what he remembered and what he had forgotten.

The lonely Florence bore up bravely through this time of trial. If saddening thoughts of those happy days when she wandered hand in hand with Frank Dormer beside the Coquet ever came to trouble her, they were quickly banished; and even her mother’s journal, which had so long fed her hopes of his return, was laid at the bottom of her desk, that she might not be tempted to read and ponder over it.

As soon as Mr. Heriton was sufficiently recovered to bear the change which his medical man prescribed as absolutely necessary for his complete restoration to health, Florence went to consult her friend Susan Denham. She must choose some locality for her new home where there was a prospect of employment, and in her utter inexperience she gladly availed herself of Susan’s greater knowledge of the world.

They had seen very little of each other during these last few weeks, for Miss Denham had increased the number of her pupils, and was now rarely to be found at home. She had stolen over sometimes to inquire after Mr. Heriton; and once, when he was considered in danger, had insisted on sharing his daughter’s night watch; but she looked so harassed and fatigued that Florence would not permit her to do this again. The name of her cousin never passed her lips; and though surprised at her reticence Florence was too delicate not to imitate it.

With the shrewdness and tact which made her an invaluable adviser, Miss Denham had already thought over the half-formed plans of her friend, and was ready to enter into and assist them as soon as the subject was broached.

“You will want to get a few miles from town, and your lodgings must be cheap, yet respectable; the owners of the house must also be persons with whom you could safely leave Mr. Heriton during your own enforced absences.”

“Certainly. But will it not be difficult to procure such a home? I have looked down the columns of the daily papers to try and find something to suit us, until I am quite tired of the useless endeavors.”

Susan smiled slightly.

“Dear Miss Heriton, you must not expect too much. The ‘moderate terms’ of advertisers would still be, I fear, far beyond your limited means.”

“I will not be too particular,” cried Florence, coloring. “Indeed, it is only for papa’s sake that I am anxious to have rooms that will not too forcibly remind him of our changed fortunes. In fact, I must be prudent. Some one—I think it must have been Aunt Margaret—sent me anonymously a hundred pounds soon after papa was taken ill. Carefully as I have husbanded this sum, the daily expenses are fast reducing it; so, you see, I must learn to economize and make no wry faces about it.”

This was said so cheerfully that Susan gave her a little approving nod, and went on:

“I have been thinking that you might settle in the neighborhood of Kirton-on-the-Thames. It is a pleasantly situated market town, and I have written to a lady living in the vicinity whose children I used to teach. Mrs. Railton is in want of a morning governess, and will try you on my recommendation.”

“And must I go and look for lodgings in that neighborhood?” asked Florence, her heart failing her at the idea of the task.