“We have been friends always, but I never guessed—in fact, I have never had the smallest idea that he—he cared for me; I did not think about those sorts of things; but on Christmas Day he did seem a little different from other men, and the next day we took a walk—a long walk—and he told me—oh, that is what makes it so beautiful!—that he loved me just, just for myself alone.”
The Colonel looked rather uneasy.
“Michael Reid!” he said. “Of course I know the lad, I have known him since he was a boy. He is not well off, Florence.”
“That is just it,” said Florence. “That is the beautiful part. We neither of us care twopence whether he is well off or not. He says that he would love me if I were as poor as a church mouse, and I feel just the same for him. We are very rich, both of us, because we love each other so much. That is about it, Colonel. How can you call me a poor girl, when I am so rich in love?”
“God grant it, my darling! God grant that you are,” said the Colonel in a reverent tone. Then, bending over her, he kissed her on her white forehead. “You have no father living, so I must take his place for the time being,” he added.
“Michael is coming to see me to-day,” said Florence. “He may be here any minute. I want to put on my very prettiest frock for him. There is nothing one would not do for the man who loves you, is there?”
“Nothing, nothing, of course,” said the Colonel.
Very soon afterwards Florence left the room. As she was going away, the Colonel said—
“I must see about this: I must be a father to you; I feel that I stand in the place of a father to you at the present moment.”
“Oh, how sweet you are!” said Florence. “He will be here himself—any minute; for the week is up to-day, and he is coming to get my answer. He knows all, all about my being poor, and he is coming to-day for my answer. I must go upstairs now to make myself look my very best for him.”