"Well: I will not talk about that. I did not come here to discuss Harry or his sins,—nor, for the matter of that, his virtues. But I felt it would be improper to let him go upon his journey without communicating with you." So saying, he took his departure and walked back to the rectory.
CHAPTER XLV.
A DETERMINED YOUNG LADY.
When this offer had been made to Harry Annesley he found it to be absolutely necessary that he should write a farther letter to Florence. He was quite aware that he had been forbidden to write. He had written one letter since that order had been given to him, and no reply had come to him. He had not expected a reply; but still her silence had been grievous to him. It might be that she was angry with him, really angry. But let that be as it might, he could not go to America, and be absent for so long a period, without telling her. She and her mother were still at Brussels when January came. Mrs. Mountjoy had gone there, as he had understood, for a month, and was still at the embassy when three months had passed. "I think I shall stay here the winter," Mrs. Mountjoy had said to Sir Magnus, "but we will take lodgings. I see that very nice sets of apartments are to be let." But Sir Magnus would not hear of this. He said, and said truly, that the ministerial house was large; and at last he declared the honest truth. His sister-in-law had been very kind to him about money, and had said not a word on that troubled subject since her arrival. Mrs. Mountjoy, with that delicacy which still belongs to some English ladies, would have suffered extreme poverty rather than have spoken on such a matter. In truth she suffered nothing, and hardly thought about it. But Sir Magnus was grateful, and told her that if she went to look for lodgings he should go to the lodgings and say that they were not wanted. Therefore Mrs. Mountjoy remained where she was, entertaining a feeling of increased good-will toward Sir Magnus.
Life went on rather sadly with Florence. Anderson was as good as his word. He pleaded his own cause no farther, telling both Sir Magnus and Lady Mountjoy of the pledge he had made. He did in fact tell two or three other persons, regarding himself as a martyr to chivalry. All this time he went about his business looking very wretched. But though he did not speak for himself, he could not hinder others from speaking for him. Sir Magnus took occasion to say a word on the subject once daily to his niece. Her mother was constant in her attacks. But Lady Mountjoy was the severest of the three, and was accounted by Florence as her bitterest enemy. The words which passed between them were not the most affectionate in the world. Lady Mountjoy would call her 'miss,' to which Florence would reply by addressing her aunt as 'my lady.' "Why do you call me 'my lady?' It isn't usual in common conversation." "Why do you call me 'miss?' If you cease to call me 'miss,' I'll cease to call you 'my lady.'" But no reverence was paid by the girl to the wife of the British Minister. It was this that Lady Mountjoy specially felt,—as she complained to her companion, Miss Abbott. Then another cause for trouble sprang up during the winter, of which mention must be made farther on. The result was that Florence was instant with her mother to take her back to England.
We will return, however, to Harry Annesley, and give the letter, verbatim, which he wrote to Florence:
"DEAR FLORENCE,—I wonder whether you ever think of me or ever remember that I exist? I know you do. I cannot have been forgotten like that. And you yourself are the truest girl that ever owned to loving a man. But there comes a chill across my heart when I think how long it is since I wrote to you, and that I have not had a line even to acknowledge my letter. You bade me not to write, and you have not even forgiven me for disobeying your order. I cannot but get stupid ideas into my mind, which one word from you would dissipate.
"Now, however, I must write again, order or no order. Between a man and a woman circumstanced as you and I, things will arise which make it incumbent on one or the other to write. It is absolutely necessary that you should now know what are my intentions, and understand the reasons which have actuated me. I have found myself left in a most unfortunate condition by my uncle's folly. He is going on with a stupid marriage for the purpose of disinheriting me, and has in the mean time stopped the allowance which he had made me since I left college. Of course I have no absolute claim on him. But I cannot understand how he can reconcile himself to do so, when he himself prevented my going to the Bar, saying that it would be unnecessary.
"But so it is, I am driven to look about for myself. It is very hard at my time of life to find an opening in any profession. I think I told you before that I had ideas of going to Cambridge and endeavoring to get pupils, trusting to my fellowship rather than to my acquirements. But this I have always looked upon with great dislike, and would only have taken to it if nothing else was to be had. Now there has come forward an old college acquaintance, a man who is three or four years my senior, who has offered to take me to America as his private secretary. He proposes to remain there for three years. I of course shall not bind myself to stay as long; but I may not improbably do so. He is to pay my expenses and to give me a salary of three hundred a year. This will, perhaps, lead to nothing else, but will for the present be better than nothing. I am to start in just a month from the present time.