This was cold and concise enough; so much so, that Florence, whose heart was craving the attentions her reason condemned, felt disappointed. She would not give way to this, but tried to interest herself in the pursuits of Walter and Fred, who were out for hours daily, exploring the rock pools, and bringing home stores of shells, and seaweeds, and marine monsters that frightened Mrs. Wilson and amused Aunt Margaret, who preferred to stay quietly on the beach, with a camp stool and her book.
Coming home one bright, tranquil evening from a longer excursion than usual, they found Mr. Aylwinne sitting on the sands with the elder ladies. He shook hands with his wards, congratulated Florence on the improvement in her looks, and then sat very silent until she went indoors, when he rose and followed her.
The weary boys had thrown themselves down at Mrs. Blunden’s feet, and no one seemed disposed to move even when Mrs. Wilson put away her knitting needles, and wondered whether she ought not to go in and order tea.
“Florence is there. She will call us when it is ready. Pray sit still,” said Aunt Margaret, who had suddenly awakened to the fact that there was something significant in the deep blush that mantled on her niece’s cheek when she beheld Mr. Aylwinne, and saw no reason why she should interfere, if it betokened the dawning of a love affair.
Florence had gone into the drawing room and taken off her hat, unconscious that any one had followed her, until she turned, and saw in the twilight pervading the apartment the object who filled her thoughts.
“Did I startle you?” he asked, without advancing. “I fancied you would be glad to have the information you sought at the earliest moment. Shall I tell you at once what I have ascertained? Or would you rather hear it when——”
“At once, if you please,” she said quickly. “But is it possible that you have obtained tidings from California already?”
“I must acknowledge,” he answered, “that I instituted inquiries respecting this matter some time since. I only received a reply to them yesterday.”
Florence sat down to listen, and he went on in a slow, hesitating manner, as if it pained him to tell the tale of his countryman’s disgraceful fate.
“The report you sent me is perfectly correct so far as it goes. The additional particulars an eyewitness has given me are too painful to repeat. Lieutenant Mason undoubtedly provoked the attack by which he lost his life.”