Enid looked at her steadily.
"You are very clever, Florence," she said, "and it is exceedingly clever of you to mention little Dick to me. You know that I love him, although I do not love you. I shall do no harm to him that I can help. But this—this burden is more than I can bear alone! I shall go to another for help."
"You have promised to speak to nobody but Hubert on the subject," said Flossy, turning upon her with a look of tigress-like fury.
"To nobody but my husband or my promised husband."
"And that is Hubert."
"No; it is not Hubert."
"Not Hubert? Then who—who?"
"That is nothing to you. You will hear in good time. You have no right to question me; you lost your authority over me long ago."
"Not Hubert?" Flossy repeated once more, as if bewildered by the news. Then she burst into a low wild laugh. "You are right," she said. "He has replaced you already; he is desperately in love with Cynthia Westwood, the daughter of the man who murdered your father, and he has given you up. He never cared for you; he wanted your money only. Did that never occur to your innocent mind? As soon as he is better, he will make Cynthia his wife."
"He is free to do so if he pleases," said the girl, with a touch of scorn in her voice. "I am thankful to escape from you both. You will not expect me to live under the same roof with you again."