A Life's Secret: A Novel

by Mrs. Henry Wood

'An unwelcome contrast, I am sure it must be.'

'It jars on the mind. All events, essentially of the world, let them be ever so necessary or useful, must do so, when contrasted with the solemn scenes of life's close. But how soon we forget those solemn scenes, and live in the world again!'

'Austin,' she gently whispered, 'I do not like to talk of death. It reminds me of the dread that is ever oppressing me.'

'She looks so much better as to surprise me,' was his answer, unconscious that it betrayed his undoubted cognisance of the 'dread' she spoke of.

'If it would but last!' sighed Florence. 'To prolong mamma's life, I think I would sacrifice mine.'

'No, you would not, Florence—in mercy to her. If called upon to lose her you would grow reconciled to it; to do so, is in the order of nature. She could not spare you.'

Florence believed that she never could grow reconciled to it: she often wondered how she should bear it when the time came. But there rose up before her now, as she spoke with Austin, one cheering promise, 'As thy day is, so shall thy strength be.'

'What should you say, if I tell you I have come into a fortune!' resumed Austin, in a lighter tone.

'I should say—But, is it true?' broke off Florence.

'Not true, as you and Mr. Hunter would count fortunes,' smiled Austin; 'but true, as poor I, born without silver spoons in my mouth, and expecting to work hard for all I shall ever possess, have looked upon them. Mrs. Thornimett has behaved to me most kindly, most generously; she has bequeathed to me two thousand pounds.'