“I have brought him two little tokens that I thought of him as I hastened to you after hearing the news. I know they will be useful to him. These are glycerine lozenges, Florence; they are excellent for the throat. The sea mist or the desert sand is sure to affect it.”
“Thank you, it was very kind of you; you are much too generous—you make us quite uneasy.” Florence was miserable at the two evils suggested.
“My love, if I had thousands a year you should have them,” Aunt Anne answered, and, intent on her present-making, she went on, “and here is a little case of scissors, they are of different sizes. I know how much gentlemen”—Aunt Anne always said “gentlemen,” never “men,” as do the women of to-day—“like to find a pair suited to their requirements at the moment; I thought they might be useful to him on the voyage.” She gave a sigh of relief as though presenting her gifts had removed a load from her mind. “I suppose Walter is not down yet, my love?”
“He is upstairs,” Florence said, a little guiltily, “I am afraid he will not be down just yet.”
Aunt Anne gave a reflective wink, as though she perfectly understood the reason of Walter’s non-appearance; but if she did she had far too much tact to betray it.
“If it be your wish, my dear, I will forego the pleasure of saying a last good-bye to him.”
“Well, dear Aunt Anne, when he does come down he will have a great deal to do,” Florence answered still more guiltily, for she could not help feeling that Aunt Anne saw through the ruse.
“My love, I quite understand,” Mrs. Baines said solemnly, “and he will know that it was from no lack of affection that I did not wait to see him. Tell him that he will be constantly in my thoughts;” and she slowly gathered her cashmere shawl round her shoulders, and buttoned her black kid gloves.
“Poor Aunt Anne,” Florence thought when she had gone, she would wring a tragedy from every daily trial if she were encouraged. “Oh, you wicked coward,” she said to Walter, “to run away like that.”
“Yes, my darling; but I am starved, and really, you know, Floggie, confound Aunt Anne.”