"I think so too," said Florence, smiling, as she scanned the firm, determined face and the tall and muscular form of her hostess, who certainly would never be classed as a weak or timid woman.
On the afternoon of the third day a knock was heard at the door, for as yet it was unprovided with a bell.
Mrs. Armstrong and Florence were sitting together.
The two glanced at each other, and the same thought came to each.
"It may be Orton Campbell," said Florence, who was the first to speak.
"Then let me go to the door. Stay where you are, Miss Douglas; I will receive the gentleman."
But when the landlady opened the door she saw a man who looked like a coachman. A covered carriage was at the gate, which he had evidently driven.
"Well, sir, what can I do for you?" demanded the landlady, sharply.
"Is there a young lady living with you named Florence Douglas?" asked the man.
"Miss Florence Douglas boards here," answered Mrs. Armstrong.