“Oh no.”
“She must long to see you, Florence dear.”
“She does; she is such a dear mother, and she is coming to England in two or three weeks’ time.”
“Her society will be a great solace to you.”
“Yes; but what I wanted to tell you is that she has sent me a present.”
“I hope it is a substantial one,” Aunt Anne said, courteously.
“Indeed it is.”
“It rejoices me greatly to hear it, my love.”
“It is money—a cheque. My mother says she sends it to cheer me up after losing Walter.”
“She knew how your tender heart would miss him, my darling;” but she was watching Florence intently with a hungry look that a second self seemed trying to control.