She had stopped, and was standing slowly picking a carnation to pieces leaf by leaf.
“Don’t you?” she answered, with a laugh. “Lovers are blind; but it does not follow that other people are. I have been thinking, Ernest, that it is very fortunate that I found out my little mistake before you discovered yours. Supposing I really had cared for you, the position would have been awkward now, would it not?”
Ernest was forced to admit that it would.
“But luckily, you see, I do not. I am only your true friend now, Ernest; and it is as a friend that I wish to say a word to you about Eva—a word of warning.”
“Go on.”
“You love Eva, and Eva loves you, Ernest; but remember this, she is weak as water. She always was so from a child; those beautiful women often are; Nature does not give them everything, you see.”
“What do you mean?”
“What I say, nothing more. She is very weak; and you must not be surprised if she throws you over.”
“Good heavens, Florence! Why, she loves me with all her heart!”
“Yes; but women often think of other things besides their hearts. But there, I don’t want to frighten you, only I would not pin all my faith to Eva’s constancy, however dearly you may think she loves you. Don’t look so distressed, Ernest; I did not wish to pain you. And remember that if any difficulty should arise between Eva and you, you will always have me on your side. You will always think of me as your true friend, won’t you, Ernest?” and she held out her hand.