And then at last the fatal moment came—he knew that it was time to go, and said good-bye to Miss Ceswick, who made some remark about his good fortune in going to France and Italy, and warned him to be careful not to lose his heart to a foreign girl. Then he crossed the room and shook hands with Florence, who smiled coolly in his face, and read him through with her piercing eyes; and last of all came to Eva, who dropped her album and a pocket-handkerchief in her confusion as she rose to give him her hand. He stooped and picked them up—the album he placed on the table, the little lace-edged handkerchief he crumpled up in the palm of his left hand and kept; it was almost the only souvenir he had of her. Then he took her hand, and for a moment looked into her face. It wore a smile, but beneath it the features were wan and troubled. It was so hard to go.
“Well, Ernest,” said Miss Ceswick, “you two are taking leave of each other as solemnly as though you were never going to meet again.”
“Perhaps they never will,” said Florence, in her clear voice; and at that moment Ernest felt as though he hated her.
“You should not croak, Florence; it is unlucky,” said Miss Ceswick.
Florence smiled.
Then Ernest dropped the cold hand, and turning, left the room. Florence followed him, and, snatching a hat from the pegs, passed into the garden before him. When he was half-way down the garden-walk, he found her ostensibly picking some carnations.
“I want to speak to you for a minute, Ernest,” she said; “turn this way with me;” and she led him past the bow-window, down a small shrubbery-walk about twenty paces long. “I must offer you my congratulations,” she went on. “I hope that you two will be happy. Such a handsome pair ought to be happy, you know.”
“Why, Florence, who told you?”
“Told me! nobody told me. I have seen it all along. Let me see, you first took a fancy to one another on the night of the Smythes’ dance, when she gave you a rose, and the next day you saved her life quite in the romantic and orthodox way. Well, and then events took their natural course, till one evening you went out sailing together in a boat. Shall I go on?”
“I don’t think it is necessary, Florence, I am sure I don’t know how you know all these things.”