Kitty was very much excited, but she was too gentle and noble a girl, too absolutely unselfish, not to notice that her companion was distrait and anxious. No one could be much more worried than poor Florence was that evening.
All during the long day which had followed she had kept saying to herself: "Shall I or shall I not? Shall I take that fifty pounds from Bertha and put myself in her power for ever, or shall I return her the money, fight my way to fortune with the weapons which God has given me, and not descend to her temptations?"
One moment Florence had almost made up her mind to choose the right path, but the next instant the thought of the struggle which lay before her and the terrible adventures which any girl must meet who fights the world without money rose to weaken her resolve. It would be so easy to accept that fifty pounds, and Bertha would scarcely dare to ask her to repay it. She would at least have plenty of time to collect the money bit by bit, and so return it to Bertha; but Florence knew well that if once she took that money she would lower herself forever in the moral scale.
"I should sink again to that sort of awful thing I was just before my great temptation at Cherry Court School," she thought. "I have managed to rise above that level now, and am I going to sink again?"
So she wavered all day long, the pendulum of her mind now swinging to one side, now to another. The result was that she felt quite worn out when night came.
"What is it?" said Kitty. "What is worrying you?"
"Oh, never mind," answered Florence. The tears rose to her eyes, she pressed her hands for a moment to her face, then she said abruptly: "Don't ask me."
"I will ask you. I have seen all day that you are wretched; you must tell me what has gone wrong with you."
"I am tempted, that is all," said Florence.
"Then do not yield to the temptation," was Kitty's answer; "if it is something you would rather not say to me——"