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Page 32
"Oh, I'm so glad," exclaimed little Mrs. Talbot rapturously, nodding her
"honorable" head with a beaming smile, "because I do so want to meet
him, dear fellow! And I value your opinion, Flo, more highly than that
of any other friend I possess. You are so solid, so thoughtful--such a
dear thing altogether."
Florence takes no heed of this rodomontade, but sits quite still, with
downcast eyes, tapping the small table near her with the tips of her
slender fingers in a meditative fashion.
"The fact is," continues Dora, who is watching her closely, "I may
as well let you into a little secret. Yesterday Sir Adrian and I had
a tiny, oh, such a tiny little dispute, all about nothing, I assure
you"--with a gay laugh--"but to us it seemed quite important. He said he
was jealous of me. Now just fancy that, Flo; jealous of poor little me!"
"It is quite possible; you are pretty--most men admire you," Florence
remarks coldly, still without raising her eyes.
"Ah, you flatter me, naughty girl! Well, silly as it sounds, he actually
was jealous, and really gave me quite a scolding. It brought tears to my
eyes, it upset me so. So, to tell the truth, we parted rather bad
friends; and, to be revenged on me, I suppose, he rather neglected me
for the remainder of the day."
Again Florence is silent, though her tormentor plainly waits for a lead
from her before going on.
"You must have remarked," she continues presently, "how cold and
reserved he was toward me when we were all together in that dreadful
haunted chamber." Here she really shudders, in spite of herself. The
cruel eyes of Arthur Dynecourt seem to be on her again, as they were in
that ghostly room.
"I remarked nothing," responds Florence icily.
"No--really? Well, he was. Why, my dear Florence, you must have seen how
he singled you out to be attentive to you, just to show me how offended
he was."
"He did not seem offended with any one, and I thought him in
particularly good spirits," replies Florence calmly.
Dora turns a delicate pink.
"Dear Adrian is such an excellent actor," she says sweetly, "and so
proud; he will disguise his feelings, however keen they may be, from
the knowledge of any one, no matter what the effort may cost him. Well,
dearest, and so you positively advise me to keep this appointment with
him?"
"I advise nothing. I merely say that I see nothing objectionable in
your walking up and down the lime-walk with your host."
"How clearly you put it! Well, adieu, darling, for the present, and
thank you a thousand times for all the time you have wasted on me. I
assure you I am not worth it"--kissing her hand brightly.
For once she speaks the truth; she is not indeed worth one moment of the
time Florence has been compelled to expend upon her; yet, when she has
tripped out of the room, seemingly as free from guile as a light-hearted
child, Miss Delmaine's thoughts still follow her, even against her
inclination.
She has gone to meet him; no doubt to interchange tender words and vows
with him; to forgive, to be forgiven, about some sweet bit of lover's
folly, the dearer for its very foolishness. She listens for her
footsteps as she returns along the corridor, dressed no doubt in her
prettiest gown, decked out to make herself fair in his eyes.
An overwhelming desire to see how she has robed herself on this
particular occasion induces Florence to go to the door and look after
her as she descends the stairs. She just catches a glimpse of Dora as
she turns the corner, and sees, to her surprise, that she is by no means
daintily attired, but has thrown a plain dark water-proof over her
dress, as though to hide it. Slightly surprised at this, Florence
ponders it, and finally comes to the bitter conclusion that Dora is so
sure of his devotion that she knows it is not necessary for her to
bedeck herself in finery to please him. In his eyes of course she is
lovely in any toilet.
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