"He will soon be here," she replied; "I am sure he will, for Mrs. Franks knew where he was, and she sent off a boy on horseback for him."
Harriet looked so heated, that, fearing the effect of further excitement on her, I determined to return home immediately. So, giving Margaret some directions, and telling Mrs. O'Donnel that I would see her again in the afternoon, I left them.
CHAPTER IX.
REPENTANCE.
We walked home quite slowly, on Harriet's account. We had been so long away that Florence would, I thought, have become quite tired of loneliness and ill-humor, and quite prepared to welcome us with cheerful, friendly smiles; indeed I should not have been greatly surprised to meet her on the way, or at least to see her in the piazza watching for us. But we reached the house—entered the piazza—passed into the parlor, and still no Florence was seen. I called her, but she did not answer, and a servant told me she thought Miss Florence had gone to lie down, as she had told her that she was sick, and did not want any dinner. I went to her room immediately, and found her asleep. She had evidently been weeping, for her face was flushed, her eyelids red and swollen, and as I stood by her, she sobbed heavily more than once. Harriet had stolen in after me without my seeing her, and as I turned to darken a window, the light from which shone directly on Florence, she looked anxiously in my face, and asked in a whisper, "Is she very sick, Aunt Kitty?"
I did not like to tell Harriet that I thought Florence more sulky than sick, so I only replied, "I hope not, my dear. She has cried herself to sleep, and if awoke now, will probably have a headache, so we will let her sleep on."
When we had dined, Mary prepared to return home. Harriet had quite recovered from her fatigue, and I proposed that she should go home with Mary and spend the afternoon. She hesitated at this for a little while, and then said, "I had rather go to Mrs. O'Donnel's with you, Aunt Kitty."
"But, Harriet, I would rather you should go to your uncle's."
Seeing she still lingered by me, and looked dissatisfied, I added, "I have a very good reason for my wish, Harriet, which, if I should tell it to you, would, I am sure, make you go cheerfully; but I would rather you should trust me, and do what I ask without hearing my reason. Can you not?"