It would be as useless as unpleasant to dilate on Mr. Heriton’s disappointment and anger when Florence related the issue of her visit to Lieutenant Mason. He had anticipated so much from the interview that his vexation was excessive. Perhaps he scarcely acknowledged to himself the whole of the
Two or three weeks passed away, during which Florence studied assiduously. She had an incentive to exertion in her father’s haggard looks and increasing uneasiness. Although he tried to hide it from her, he was evidently dissatisfied with the progress of affairs. “Mason assured me that I should receive
For some time after Mrs. Blunden’s carriage rolled away from the door, Florence remained like one stupefied. As her aunt’s words resounded in her ears, a terrible suspicion grew upon her that there was truth in the tale, and that the money was actually withdrawn. She had a
Eight years had passed over the head of Florence Heriton since the sudden death of her beloved mother, and the gay, happy child of fifteen was transformed into the thoughtful, beautiful woman. Florence had more than fulfilled the promise of her early girlhood. The slim figure had expanded into well-rounded
Mr. Heriton, a portly, handsome man, scarcely past the middle age, was walking about the drawing room, addressing an occasional observation to his lady, who was sitting near a window which commanded the route Frank and Florence had taken an hour previously. She had the hectic color and fragile form