"All this perplexes me," said Robert, raising one hand to his forehead—"I seem to have known you many years; my heart warms toward you as it never did to any one but my aunt."
"That is right; an honest heart seldom betrays itself. But hush! the young lady is coming; God help her, she loves that man."
"It is worship—idolatry—not love; that seems but a feeble word; it gives one the heart-ache to witness its ravages on her sweet person."
"And does she feel so much?" said Jacob, with emotion.
Before Robert could answer, the light step of Florence was heard on the stairs; when she entered the room, Jacob stood near the window, holding his hat awkwardly between both hands, and with his eyes bent upon the floor.
"You will give this to Mr. Leicester," she said, still radiant and beautiful with happiness, placing a note in Jacob's hand—"here is something for yourself, I only wish it could make you as happy as—as—that it may be of use, I mean." Blushing and hesitating thus in her speech, she placed a small gold coin upon the note. Poor girl, it was a pocket-piece given by her father, but in her wild gratitude she would have cast thousands upon the man whose coming had brought so much happiness.
Jacob received the coin, looked at her earnestly for a moment, half extended his hand, and then thrust it into his pocket.
"Thank you, ma'am, a thousand times—I will do the errand right off!" and putting on his hat, Jacob strode from the house, muttering, as he cast a hurried glance around the little garden, "It seems like shooting a robin on her nest—I must think it all over again."
Robert would have followed Jacob Strong, for his mind was in tumult, and he panted for some more perfect elucidation of the mystery that surrounded this singular man. But Florence laid her hand gently on his arm, and drew him into the window recess: her face was bright with smiles and bathed in blushes. "You were ready to go without wishing me joy," she said; "and yet you must have guessed what was in that precious, precious note!"
Robert felt a strange thrill creep through his frame. He turned his eyes from the soft orbs looking into his, for their brilliancy pained him.