At this point a bell rang from above.
“It’s from Mr. Curtis’ room,” said Jane.
“Go and see what he wants.”
Jane returned in a brief time with a note in her hand.
“Mr. Curtis asked me if you were still here,” she explained, “and when I told him you were he asked me to give you this.”
Florence took the note, and, opening it, read these lines:
“Florence: Now that you have had time to think over your plan of leaving your old home, I hope you have come to see how foolish it is. Reflect that, if carried out, a life of poverty and squalid wretchedness amid homely and uncongenial surroundings awaits you; while, as my wife, you will live a life of luxury and high social position. There are many young ladies who would be glad to accept the chance which you so recklessly reject. By accepting my hand you will gratify our excellent uncle, and make me the happiest of mortals. You will acquit me of mercenary motives, since you are now penniless, and your disobedience leaves me sole heir to Uncle John. I love you, and it will be my chief object, if you will permit it, to make you happy.
“Curtis Waring.”
Florence ran her eyes rapidly over this note, but her heart did not respond, and her resolution was not shaken.
“Tell Mr. Waring there is no answer, Jane, if he inquires,” she said.