Meade L. T. - The Time of Roses стр 37.

"I am very sorry, but I cannot go," replied Florence. She looked longingly out of the window as she spoke. "No," she repeated; "I cannot."

"But why not? You say you are not busy."

"In one sense I am not busy; but I have some work to do."

"Some of your literary work?"

Florence nodded, but did not speak.

"I have to copy something," she said, after a pause; "I have to send it to the editor of the Argonaut ; he is waiting."

"Do you know, I have only read one of your stories, the first which appeared in the Argonaut ? It was clever."

"I wish it had been idiotic," replied Florence. "Everyone says to me: 'Your story is clever.' I hate that story."

"I am delighted to hear you say so. I did not admire it myself. Of course I saw that it was "

"Don't say again that it was clever. I don't wish to hear anything about it. I cannot come with you to-day. I have to do some copying."

"Why do you say copying?"

"Because I always copy the manuscripts faithfully before Mr. Franks has them for the Argonaut . He is waiting, and I am a slow writer."

"Shall I copy the story for you?"

"Not for all the world," replied Florence, startled at her own vehemence.

Trevor rose, a look of annoyance on his face.

"I am sorry you should think of my offer of help in that spirit," he said; "you don't quite understand: perhaps some day I may be able to make things plain to you. I take a great, a very great interest in you. You have brought "

"What?" said Florence.

"You have brought a great anxiety and trouble into my life, as well as a very great absorbing interest; but I can say no more now."

"If you will go away," said Florence, "I will begin to work. I have a headache, and am confused. Go away and come again, if you like. I shall be better the next time you come."

"Why won't you tell me what is troubling you?"

"How do you know anything troubles me?"

"How do I know?" said Trevor. "I have eyes that is all: eyes and a certain amount of intuition," he added.

"I cannot go to-day," said Florence, who took no notice of his words, "but perhaps on Sunday I may go to see your mother. Will you be there then?"

"Yes: did you not hear? I have broken with Mrs. Aylmer."

"What?" said Florence. She forgot herself in her excitement. She came two or three steps forward; her hands were clasped tightly together.

"Yes; I cannot stand the life. Mrs. Aylmer is very kind to me, and means well; but so long as she is so cruel to you I cannot endure it. I have told her so, and I am going to earn my own living in the future. I am no longer a rich man indeed, I am a very poor one; but I have brains and I think I have pluck, and some day I am certain I shall succeed."

Trevor held himself erect, and his eyes, full of suppressed fire, were fixed on Florence's face. He wanted her to say she was glad; he wanted to get a word of sympathy from her. On the contrary, she turned very white, and said, in a low, almost broken voice: "Oh, I am terribly sorry! Why have you done this?"

"You are sorry ?"

"Yes, I am."

"I have done it for you. I cannot stand injustice."

"I could never under any circumstances accept Mrs. Aylmer's money," said Florence. "You do me no good, and yourself harm; and then your mother: she was so happy about you. Oh, do go back to Mrs. Aylmer; do tell her you didn't mean it. I know she must be very fond of you. It makes me so wretched, so overpoweringly wretched, to think you should have done this for me. Oh, do go back! She will be so glad to receive you. I know a little about her: I know she will receive you with rejoicing."

"Do you know what she wants me to do?" he said. He was very white now. He had thrown prudence to the winds.

"What?"

"You will not like it when I tell you; but you must at least exonerate me: I am obliged to be frank."

"Say what you please; I am willing to listen."

Trevor dropped once more into a chair.

"When I last saw her she made a proposal to me. It was not the first time; it was the second. She wanted me to marry "

"I know," said Florence; "she wants you to marry Kitty. But why not? She is so sweet; she is the dearest girl in all the world."

"Hush!" said Trevor. "I do not love her, nor does she love me. I can scarcely bear to tell you all this. It is sacrilegious to think of marriage under such circumstances, and above all things to mention it in connection with a girl like Miss Sharston."

Florence found tears springing to her eyes.

"You are very good," she said, "too good, to sit here and talk to me. Of course, if you don't love Kitty, there is an end of it. Are you quite sure?"

"Positive. I know my own heart too well. I love another."

"Another?"

Florence had a wild fear for a moment that he was alluding to Bertha Keys. A desperate thought came into her brain.

"At any cost, I will open his eyes: I will tell him the truth," she thought.

Trevor had come nearer, and was bending forward and trying to take her hand.

"You are the one I love," he said. "How can I, who love you with all my heart and soul and strength, who would give my life for you, how can I think of anyone else? It does not matter whether you are the most amiable or the most unamiable woman in the world, Florence: you are the one woman on God's earth for me. Do you hear me, Florence; do you hear me? I love you; I have come to-day to tell you that I give my life to you. I put it into your hands. I didn't mean to speak, but the truth has been wrung from me. Do you hear me, Florence?"