"Yes."
"And do you know her son, that most charming fellow, Maurice Trevor?"
"I know him slightly."
"Oh, but this is really delightful. We have been friends with the Trevors, Tom and I, ever since we were children. This seems to be quite a new turn to our friendship, does it not?"
Florence felt herself both cold and stiff. She longed to be friendly with Edith, who was, she was well aware, all that was kind; nevertheless, a strange sensation of depression and of coming trouble was over her.
"She is kind; but she may tempt me to do what is wrong," thought poor Florence.
"I don't know the Trevors well," she answered. "I have met Mr. Trevor once or twice, but I have never even seen his mother. His mother has been kind enough to ask me to spend to-day with her. I will say good-bye now."
"Be sure you give my love to dear Mrs. Trevor, and remember me to Maurice. Tell him, with my kind regards, that I commiserate him very much."
"Why so?" asked Florence.
"Because he has had the bad luck to be adopted by a rich, eccentric old lady, and he will lose all his personality. Tell him I wouldn't be in his shoes for anything, and now ta! ta! I see you are dying to be off."