AN AWKWARD POSITION.
Trevor raised the latch of the gate as he spoke, and Florence and he went out into what the girl afterwards called an enchanted world. Florence during that walk was light-hearted as a lark and forgot all her cares.
Trevor made himself a very agreeable companion. He had from the first felt a great sympathy for Florence. He was not at that time in love with her, but he did think her a specially attractive girl, and, believing that she was sorrowful, and also having a sort of latent feeling that he himself was doing her an injury by being Mrs. Aylmer's heir, he was more attentive to her and more sympathetic in his manner than he would otherwise have been.
They found a shady dell on the heath where they sat and talked of many things. It was not until it was nearly time to return home, and they saw the people coming away from the little church down in the vale, that Trevor looked at his companion and said abruptly: "I do wish you and the mother could live together. Do you think it could be managed?"
"I don't know," said Florence, starting; "for some things I should like it."
"I cannot tell you," he continued, flushing slightly as he spoke, "what a great satisfaction it would be to me. I must be frank with you. I always feel that I have done you a great injury."
"You certainly have not done me an injury; you have added to the pleasure of my life," said Florence.
"I do not suppose we shall see a great deal of each other, and I often wonder why. If I am to be Mrs. Aylmer's heir I shall have to spend most of my life with her; but then, so long as you are in the world, I ought not to hold that position."
"Oh, never mind about that," said Florence.
"She is your aunt?"