“Oh, miss,” he answered fawningly, “I hope you’ll let bygones be bygones, for there’s no harm done, nor there wasn’t no harm meant. It was only said because he was inclined to be curious like, and I’m ashamed to say I wasn’t so particular then as I ought to have been; but, thanks to a saving grace, I’m——”
What he considered himself the disgusted girl did not stay to hear; but, sweeping past him with a gesture of indignant scorn, she went to the door, and waited there till Mr. Aylwinne came to say the vehicle was ready.
“Have you had a glass of wine? No? But you must not go until you have taken something.”
He was hurrying into the house, when Florence detained him.
“I cannot touch anything in this house. Come away.”
One glance at her agitated face, and he flung down a piece of gold to the obsequious landlord, and lifted her into the chaise. Scarcely a word was interchanged during the homeward ride, and Florence’s replies to her aunt’s scolding for wandering so far were brief in the extreme. But, instead of going to her own room, she followed Mr. Aylwinne to a small apartment to which he generally retreated to write letters, etc.
He looked surprised, but instantly rose from the chair into which he had thrown himself, and came to meet her.
“Sit down again, Frank. I have something to ask you to which I must have a truthful reply. You remember the first time I encountered you at the Albany? Yes, I see you do—and how, when doubtful, I suppose, of my identity, you asked Lieutenant Mason’s servant my name, and he whispered his reply? That whisper contained something more than a simple repetition of my name. Tell me—I entreat, I command you—what it was!”
CHAPTER XXII.
A TARDY EXPLANATION.