“To-morrow morning then, if you have leisure,” replied the beautiful heiress; and after bidding him good-night, she and Floy went up the white marble steps and into the house.
Floy felt like one in a blissful dream. In entering this splendid house, with its magnificent halls adorned with potted plants, glimmering statues, and costly paintings, she thought far less of the grandeur of the place than of the fact that it was the home of her lover.
Every association breathed of him, and made the strange house seem home-like at once to her fond, loving heart.
She felt herself blessed in the strange freak of Fate that had brought her to be a dweller beneath this roof.
“A few more days—just a few more days now—and he too, will be here, my love, my love!” throbbed her happy heart.
Alva led her upstairs to her own room, and summoned her maid.
“I have brought home a guest—Miss Fane—who will serve me as a model in future. Arrange the blue room opposite mine for her occupancy,” she said, in a tone that forbid curiosity.
When the maid had gone to do her bidding, she said, kindly:
“My dear, you look positively radiant somehow, yet surely you must be very tired.”
“I am not tired—I have come only a short journey—from Mount Vernon—and I am so glad to be here, so glad that I can be of service to you, Miss Beresford, that every other emotion is swallowed up in pure joy!” exclaimed the grateful girl.