He reddened slightly; then he looked at her. She was holding her head well back; her figure was very upright; there was a proud indignation about her. His heart ached as he watched her.
"I think of you often," he said; "your strange and inexplicable story is a great weight and trouble on my mind."
"I wish you would not think of me: I wish you would forget me."
Florence looked full at him; her angry dark eyes were full of misery.
"Suppose that is impossible?" he said, dropping his voice, and there was something in his tone which made her heart give a sudden bound of absolute gladness. But what right had she to be glad? She hated herself for the sensation.
Trevor came closer to her side.
"I have very nearly made up my mind," he said; "when it is quite made up I shall come to see you in town. This is your train." He opened the door of a first-class carriage.
"I am going third," said Florence.
Without comment he walked down a few steps of the platform with her. An empty third-class carriage was found; she seated herself in it.
"Good-bye," he said. He took off his hat and watched the train out of the station; then he returned slowly—very slowly—to Aylmer's Court. He could not quite account for his own sensations. He had meant to go to meet Kitty and her father, who were both going to walk back by the river, but he did not care to see either of them just now.