"Oh, Florence is out riding with Wentworth. If I had not had baby to take care of I should have gone too, and you would have had a cold welcome, Johnny! How glad I am I was at home!"
After speaking on many other things, at last the door opened, and a face too dearly remembered appeared;—Lady Florence was eighteen,—still in her teens,—that delightful affix to the numbers that afterwards move less musically! Her face seemed exactly the same,—as did her figure, shown off to perfection by her riding habit, save that the girlish expression was softened into the more sober air of riper, though still youthful years, and the light form more rounded, and developed into the contour of woman's figure. She wore a black velvet hat with a white feather coquettishly displayed, and in one of her little hands, covered with white gauntlets, she balanced a riding-whip, whilst the other held up her train. John was partly hidden by the white muslin curtains, and the young lady did not observe him.
"Oh, Ellen,—you in yet? I thought you would have been out this fine day!" and she was on the point of shutting the door, when the Countess said—
"Why, Florence, love! where are your eyes? Do you not see my brother John, who is just arrived?"
A faint blush for a moment crimsoned her face; then, apologizing for her mistake, she walked gracefully forward, while young Ravensworth leapt up and hurried to meet her.
"So you have arrived, Mr. Ravensworth;—I am glad to renew our old acquaintance."
"Not more than I am, Lady Florence. Why you are not altered the least; I should have known no difference!"
"You flatter me," answered the lady, giving her hand; "but I must say, I doubt if I should have known you again. Why, dear me, Ellen, when last I saw him he was not so tall as I am, and now he is a head over me! I must now look up to you, Mr. Ravensworth,—you are grown out of my recollection almost!"
"I trust not out of your remembrance, Lady Florence?"
"Certainly not out of yours, if I am to judge by your shakes of hand. You forget you are now so strong;—you nearly wrung my poor hand off! Excuse me now; I must go and change my habit,—Addio!"