“I can’t see,” said Mrs. Dainty, “that you have any right to control her movements.”
“The time is coming, mayhap, when you will see. For the sake of your dear children,”—the old man’s voice became unsteady,—“whom I love, with all their faults, almost as well as if they were my own, I consented to let Florence take a position in your family that you regard as an inferior one——“
”You consented!” interrupted the niece, with some asperity and some surprise.
“Yes, I consented,—or rather, constrained her to the act.”
“You! What is the meaning of this, Uncle John? What did you know of Florence Harper before she came into this house?”
“Enough to make me class her with the best and noblest of women! And her conduct here has only confirmed this estimate of her character.”
“I wish you would speak out more plainly, Uncle John.” The haughty manner of Mrs. Dainty was breaking down.
“Her mother’s maiden name was Florence Williams,” said the old man, in a low, quiet voice.
Mrs. Dainty’s face showed a slight pallor.
“You remember her?”