"D—n Charles!" cried the admiral, who had not been much accustomed to control his feelings.
"Hush! hush!" said Henry; "my dear sir, hush! do not indulge now in any invectives. Flora, here are three letters; you will see that the one which is unopened is addressed to yourself. However, we wish you to read the whole three of them, and then to form your own free and unbiased opinion."
Flora looked as pale as a marble statue, when she took the letters into her hands. She let the two that were open fall on the table before her, while she eagerly broke the seal of that which was addressed to herself.
Henry, with an instinctive delicacy, beckoned every one present to the window, so that Flora had not the pain of feeling that any eyes were fixed upon her but those of her mother, who had just come into the room, while she was perusing those documents which told such a tale of heartless dissimulation.
"My dear child," said Mrs. Bannerworth, "you are ill."
"Hush! mother—hush!" said Flora, "let me know all."
She read the whole of the letters through, and then, as the last one dropped from her grasp, she exclaimed,—
"Oh, God! oh, God! what is all that has occurred compared to this? Charles—Charles—Charles!"
"Flora!" exclaimed Henry, suddenly turning from the window. "Flora, is this worthy of you?"