Mrs. Aylmer the great, however, now pushed herself quite into the forefront of the county society. It was impossible to suppress her; she was past suppressing. Sir John himself took her into the great hall where supper was laid. She sat by his side during that auspicious meal, and when he talked of Florence she boldly told him that a golden future lay before the girl.
"It is a pity," was his reply, "that being the case, that Miss Aylmer should have got the Scholarship, for whether she got it or not, being your niece, she would of course have been well educated. The Scholarship money would have done more good to a poorer girl"—and here Sir John had quickly to suppress a sigh, for was he not thinking of Kitty—Kitty, who had never looked sweeter than during this evening of defeat, who had never, never been nearer to his heart?
Mrs. Aylmer the great looked at him in some astonishment.
"I am surprised," she said; "it almost sounds as if you——"
"As if I grudged the Scholarship to your niece; far from that," he answered; "she is a remarkable girl; any girl who could write that essay possesses genius. She will be heard of in the future."
Then the heart of Mrs. Aylmer the great swelled within her, and she absolutely loved her niece Florence.
But now the day was over and Florence was alone in her room. The door was closed; her mother's last kiss and blessing had been given. Mrs. Aylmer the great had solemnly embraced Florence also, had given her to understand that there was no request which she would not grant, and then the tired girl had been left alone.
She went to the door of her room and locked it, then she stood for a moment in the centre of the floor. There was a large mirror fastened to one of the walls, and Florence could see her own reflection in it. She glanced at it for a moment in a puzzled way, a solitary young figure, tall and well proportioned, a head of dark hair, eyes very bright, a face somewhat pale now from excessive emotion, pathetic lines round the mouth. On the head shone the silver crown of bay-leaves, the Greek dress fell away from the graceful figure, on the neck gleamed the wonderful locket with its dazzling ruby. The light from a large lamp fell upon this ruby and caused it to gleam brightly. Florence went nearer to the mirror and looked into it. The fire from the heart of the ruby seemed to leap out. She hastily unfastened the gold chain from her neck and held the locket in her hand. The ruby with its heart of fire seemed now to the excited girl to possess an evil eye which could see through her. She felt that she hated it, she trembled a little, she hastily unlocked a drawer and thrust in the ruby locket and chain. She then removed the silver wreath of bay-leaves and put it also in the drawer with the ruby. Then she clasped her hands above her head and looked earnestly into her own face. Well she knew in that moment of bitter triumph what had happened to her.
"I am made for life," she said at last slowly, aloud; "all the good things of life can in the future be mine—all the wealth, all the glory, to a great extent also the love."
But when Florence thought of the love she paused; for she remembered her mother. Did anyone in all the world love her as the little Mummy loved her? In the future she knew well that she should see very little of her mother. Aunt Susan would not permit it for a moment; she might see her occasionally, but never again would they meet as child and mother. There would be a gulf between them, the gulf which ever and always separates the rich from the poor. For Florence henceforth would belong to the rich ones of the earth. Mrs. Aylmer the great was so pleased, so elated, so triumphant at her marked and brilliant success that there was nothing she would not do for her. Yes, Florence's future life was secure, she was fortunate, the world lay at her feet, her fortune was made.