With Edge Tools

by H. C. Chatfield-Taylor

"I am," said Florence deliberately.

"Well, you are ingenuous, I must say," said Mrs. McSeeney, astonished at Florence's determined manner. "Perhaps you will think better of your foolishness when you realize the position in which you have placed yourself before society. In the meantime I trust Mr. Sanderson accepts a statement which, considering my experience of the world, I believe extremely improbable."

Roswell clenched his fists to suppress his anger. "Mr. Sanderson," he said slowly, "believes absolutely in the fidelity of his wife, and he warns Mrs. McSeeney that she must answer to him for any future slurs upon her character."

Mrs. McSeeney's eyes flashed as she said coolly: "I am glad Mrs. Sanderson enjoys so absolutely the confidence of her husband." Then, shrugging her shoulders slightly, she turned and walked toward the door. It was growing so late that the distant room in which this scene occurred was quite empty, and fortunately no one but Harold Wainwright had overheard the conversation. An anxious witness of the scene, he had appeared at first dumfounded by Florence's self-accusation; but he now calmly followed Mrs. McSeeney toward the door. He quickly caught up with her, and speaking so quietly that she turned about somewhat frightened, he said: "May I speak with you a moment? I have something of importance to say."

"Certainly," she replied, and they passed on into the next room.

Florence was left alone with Roswell Sanderson. The first excitement of the resolution to save Marion had passed, and she now realized the position in which she had so suddenly placed herself, and her foremost desire now was to get away somewhere. Above all she dared not speak to Roswell. She was still holding his hand which she had grasped so earnestly in the midst of her excitement, and now she tried to release it. This action Roswell resisted, and, turning until he could see into her face, he said earnestly: "You are a brave girl, Florence, and I thank you for it from the bottom of my heart."

Florence lowered her eyes. "Don't talk about it," she said anxiously, "and please promise not to say one word to Marion of all this. I am going away, and, if you can keep her from knowing about it, it will make me so happy."

Roswell was silent a moment. A curious expression of sad determination, which Florence did not understand, came into his eyes.

"I promise," he finally said, "but you must answer me one question now that we are alone. Did you speak the truth?"

Florence trembled slightly. She had been expecting this question and felt that everything depended on her answer. She pressed his hand firmly, and, looking up into his face, said in tones which bore the resolute accent of truth: "Roswell, I assure you that Marion has been true to you."