Meade L. T. - The Time of Roses стр 28.

Mr. Anderson read the first one or two sentences.

"She must have done it to play a trick on us," he said; "it is absolutely impossible that this can be her writing."

"It cannot be printed," said Franks; "what is to be done?"

"You had better go and see her at once. Have you any explanation to offer?"

"None; it must be a trick. See for yourself how her opening sentence starts in this story: there is a dignity about each word; the style is beautiful. Compare it with this." As Franks spoke he pointed to a paragraph of the Argonaut and a paragraph in poor Florence's essay. "I will rush off at once and see if I can find her," he said; "she must have sent this to pay me out. She did not want to write; I did not think she would be so disobliging."

"Offer her bigger terms to send us a paper to-morrow. We must overlook this very shabby trick she has played on us."

"Of course, the thing could not possibly be printed," said Franks. "I will go and see her."

He snatched up his hat, hailed a hansom, and drove straight to Prince's Mansions, and arrived there just as Florence was going out. She turned pale when she saw him. One glance at his face made her fear the worst. He had found her out. She leant up against the lintel of the door.

"What is it?" she said.

He glanced at her, and said, in a gruff voice: "Come up to my sister's room. I must speak to you."

They went upstairs

walks together, and during those walks they talked of Florence, and Trevor gradually but surely began to give some of his confidences to his young companion and to tell her how bitterly he felt the position in which Mrs. Aylmer had placed her own niece.

"I cannot take her place," he said; "you would not if you were placed in the same position?"

"If I were you I would not," said Kitty, in her gentle voice; but then she added, with a sigh: "I do not think even you know Mrs. Aylmer. Florence used to tell me all about her long ago. She is a very strange woman. Although she is so kind to us, I am afraid she is terribly unforgiving; I do not think she will ever forgive poor Flo."

Trevor was silent for a moment, then he said slowly: "This mystery of the past, am I never to know about it?"

Kitty looked at him, and her gentle grey eyes flashed. "You are never to know about it from me," she said.

He bowed, and immediately turned the conversation.

A fortnight had nearly gone by, and the guests now felt themselves thoroughly at home at Aylmer's Court, when late one afternoon the telegraph-boy was seen coming down the avenue. He met Trevor and asked him immediately if Miss Keys were at home. Trevor replied that he did not know where Miss Keys was. It turned out that she had been away for several hours. Trevor consented to take charge of the telegram. As no answer was possible, the boy departed on his way.

Bertha had gone to see an old lady for Mrs. Aylmer, and did not come home until it was time to dress for dinner. It was quite late, for they dined at a fashionable hour. The telegram was lying on the hall table. She saw that it was addressed to herself, started, for she did not often receive telegrams, and tore it open. Its contents certainly were the reverse of reassuring. If Florence appeared on the scene now, what incalculable mischief she might effect! How could she, Bertha, stop the headstrong girl? She glanced at the clock and stamped her foot with impatience. The little telegraph-office in the nearest village had been closed for the last hour and a half. It would be impossible, except by going by train to the nearest town, to send off a telegram that night.

Bertha went up to her room, feeling intensely uncomfortable. In spite of all her efforts, she could scarcely maintain conversation during the evening which followed.

In the course of that evening Trevor asked her if she had received her telegram.

"It came two or three hours ago," he said; "the messenger wanted to wait for an answer, but I knew there was no use in that, as you would not be home until late. I hope you have had no bad news."

"Irritating news," she replied, in a whisper; "pray don't speak of it to the others. I don't want it mentioned that I have had a telegram."

He glanced at her, and slightly raised his brows. She saw that he was disturbed, and that a sort of suspicion was stealing over him. She came nearer, and by way of looking over the illustrated paper which he was glancing through, said, in a very low voice: "It was from Florence Aylmer. She has got herself into a fresh scrape, I am afraid."

He threw back his head with an impatient movement.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing, but if you wish to do her a good turn you will not mention the fact that I have received this telegram."

There was nothing more to be said, and Trevor walked across the room to the piano. He and Kitty both had good voices, and they sang some duets together.

During the night which followed Bertha slept but little. Again and again she took up Florence's telegram and looked at it. She would be at Hamslade, the nearest station to Aylmer's Court, between nine and ten o'clock. Bertha resolved, come what would, to meet her at the station.