She went, however, with Mrs. Blunden to the rooms prepared for her, and assisted her maid in unpacking, putting the lady in such a good humor by her attentions that she descended to dinner prepared to like every one.
Fred was not well enough to rise again that day, but Florence had found time ere she joined the party below to pay him a short visit, and promise him a longer one in the course of the evening.
As she was leaving him he grasped her dress and drew her back.
“Mrs. Wilson was saying something to Jane just now about an aunt of yours coming here to fetch you away, Donna. But you’ll not leave us, will you?”
Florence stooped and kissed him without replying, for she had seen Mr. Aylwinne enter the room while the boy was speaking, and knew that he, too, was listening to hear what she would say.
When he found that she was silent, he came forward, and Fred in great tribulation turned to his guardian.
“Mr. Aylwinne, she is going away! What shall we do without her? There isn’t any one who has been so good to us since we lost mamma! Can’t you get her to stay? Oh, do, sir—do try! She’d listen to you if you asked her.”
But he, too, was silent; and Florence, to end the awkward pause, said to the excited child soothingly:
“Dear Fred, I am not going yet. Lie down and be quiet, or you will make your head worse. I may not leave you for some weeks to come.”
“But I don’t want you to go at all!” sobbed the boy, and Mr. Aylwinne walked quietly away.