“What is the matter, Flo?”
said Kitty. The two girls were in their tiny
bed-room. They were to leave Dawlish the next
morning, as Kitty had persuaded Florence to go with
her to Southampton in order that they might both be
present when Colonel Sharston once more set foot on
his native land.
Kitty was very much excited, but she
was too gentle and noble a girl, too absolutely unselfish,
not to notice that her companion was distrait and
anxious. No one could be much more worried than
poor Florence was that evening.
All during the long day which had
followed she had kept saying to herself: “Shall
I or shall I not? Shall I take that fifty pounds
from Bertha and put myself in her power for ever,
or shall I return her the money, fight my way to fortune
with the weapons which God has given me, and not descend
to her temptations?”
One moment Florence had almost made
up her mind to choose the right path, but the next
instant the thought of the struggle which lay before
her and the terrible adventures which any girl must
meet who fights the world without money rose to weaken
her resolve. It would be so easy to accept that
fifty pounds, and Bertha would scarcely dare to ask
her to repay it. She would at least have plenty
of time to collect the money bit by bit, and so return
it to Bertha; but Florence knew well that if once
she took that money she would lower herself forever
in the moral scale.
“I should sink again to that
sort of awful thing I was just before my great temptation
at Cherry Court School,” she thought. “I
have managed to rise above that level now, and am
I going to sink again?”
So she wavered all day long, the pendulum
of her mind now swinging to one side, now to another.
The result was that she felt quite worn out when night
came.
“What is it?” said Kitty. “What
is worrying you?”
“Oh, never mind,” answered
Florence. The tears rose to her eyes, she pressed
her hands for a moment to her face, then she said abruptly:
“Don’t ask me.”
“I will ask you. I have
seen all day that you are wretched; you must tell
me what has gone wrong with you.”
“I am tempted, that is all,” said Florence.
“Then do not yield to the temptation,”
was Kitty’s answer; “if it is something
you would rather not say to me ”
“No, Kitty, I must not tell
you, but I am tempted strongly,” answered Florence.
“The only thing to do, however
hard the temptation, is not to yield to it,”
said Kitty.
Florence looked for a moment at her
companion. Kitty, too, had known what it was
to want for money. Kitty had been poor. It
is true that, since the day she took the prize which
Florence through deceit had lost, her kind friend,
Sir John Wallis, had never ceased to shower small
benefits upon her. She was not only his pet, but
almost his idol. In his heart of hearts he felt
that he would like to adopt her, but he did not dare
even to suggest such a thing, knowing how passionately
she was attached to her father.
Now Colonel Sharston was returning
to England, having been appointed to an excellent
home post, and Kitty’s money troubles were quite
at an end.
“She will want for nothing in
the future,” thought Florence to herself as
she looked at the graceful figure and bright beautiful
face of the young girl who was standing a short distance
away. “She will want for nothing:
she will never know the real heartache of those who
have to earn their daily bread. How can she understand?”
“Why are you looking at me like that, Flo?”
said Kitty.
“Oh, I don’t know; I don’t
know. I sometimes I envy you.
You have rich and powerful friends.”
“Then it is money: I thought
as much,” said Kitty. “Listen to me,
Florence. I am sure I can guess what is troubling
you. That dreadful Bertha wants to bribe you
to be silent: she has offered you money.”
Florence’s face turned quite pale.
“Give it back to her; you shall,
you must! I know father will help you when he
comes back. I will speak to him. You must
not yield, Flo; you must not.”
Florence stood irresolute.
“It is not too late,”
said Kitty. “We are both leaving here early
in the morning. Has she sent you any money now?”
“Yes,” said Florence.
Her voice scarcely rose to a whisper. The word
trembled on her lips.
“Then we will return it to her. You must
not take it.”
“It is too late: I have taken it.”
“It is not too late. What
is the time? It is only half-past ten. I
am quite certain that Miss Keys is not in bed yet.
Come, Flo, put on your hat; your mother won’t
mind. We will take the latchkey and let ourselves
in. We will go to the hotel and return the money.”
“Oh, I dare not.”
“Then I dare,” said Kitty.
“You have told me nothing, remember; but I will
not let you sink or yield to this temptation.”
Florence colored crimson.
“You have a great power over
me,” she said; “I feel as if you were my
good angel, and Bertha were my bad.”
“Then for heaven’s sake,
Florence, yield to the entreaties of your good angel.
Come, come; the hotel won’t be shut up.
Where is the money?”
“In my pocket.”
“Then come immediately.”
Florence was inspired by Kitty, whose
voice was strong, and her face brave and bright, as
befitted one who lived for the right and rejected
the wrong.
“I am glad,” she said
to herself; “I did not ask her counsel:
she has forced it upon me. She is my good angel.”
A moment later the two girls left
the cottage. They walked quickly in the direction
of the big hotel. There were lights in many rooms,
servants walking about, and the hall-door was open.
They walked up the steps, and Kitty entered the hall.
Florence followed her, pale and trembling.
“Can I see Miss Keys?” asked Kitty of
the hall porter.
“I will enquire if Miss Keys
is up still,” replied the man. “What
name shall I say?”
“Miss Sharston. I want
to see her for a moment about something important.”
“Will you come in, Miss?”
“No; perhaps she would see me
here. Say also that Miss Florence Aylmer is with
me.”
The man withdrew. A moment later,
Bertha, in her evening dress, looking pretty and excited,
ran downstairs.
“What is it? What’s
the matter?” she said. “Is that you,
Florence? Kitty, what is the matter?”
“We don’t want to stay;
we don’t want you to tell Mrs. Aylmer, and we
don’t want to get you into trouble of any sort,”
said Kitty, speaking rapidly and drawing Bertha aside
as she spoke. “But we want to give you
this back, and to let you know that what you suggested
was impossible quite impossible.”
As she spoke, she thrust the little
packet which contained the fifty pounds into Bertha’s
hand, and then took Florence’s.
“Come, Flo; I think that is all,” she
said.
Bertha was too stunned to say a word.
Before she had recovered from her astonishment, the
two girls had walked down the steps and gone out into
the night.
“What does this mean?”
said Bertha to herself. “I don’t like
it at all, but, thank goodness, we are leaving here
to-morrow. I don’t suppose Florence will
really tell on me. I must discover some other
way to get her into my power.”
She went slowly back to the sitting-room.
Mrs. Aylmer looked up discontentedly.
“Who called to see you?
I didn’t know you had any friends in the town,
Bertha?” she said.
“Nor have I, but a couple of
young girls who are staying here called to return
me a little packet which I had dropped on the beach
to-day and lost. They found it; my name was on
it, and they brought it back to me.”
“Oh, indeed; I thought I heard
the waiter say that Miss Florence Aylmer had called.”
“You were mistaken, Mrs. Aylmer,”
replied Bertha, in her calm voice. She fixed
her grey-green eyes on the widow’s face, and
took up the book which she had been reading.
“Shall we go on with this, or
shall we have a game of two-handed patience?”
she said quietly.
“I will go to bed,” said
Mrs. Aylmer; “I am tired and cross. After
all, my life is very dull. You didn’t manage
to amuse me to-day, Bertha; you were not like your
old self; and then I miss Maurice. He has become
almost indispensable to me. I hope he will return
to-morrow.”
“We shall probably find him before us at Aylmer’s
Court.”
“I shall send him a telegram
the first thing to-morrow to ask him to hurry home,”
said Mrs. Aylmer. “He is such a pleasant,
bright fellow that life is insupportable without him.
You used to be much more amusing than you are now,
Bertha. Is anything the matter?”
“Nothing, my dear friend,”
said Bertha. She looked full at Mrs. Aylmer,
and tears rose slowly to her eyes. Now, no one
could possess a more pathetic face than Bertha when
she pleased. Mrs. Aylmer was not a good-natured
woman, she was not kind-hearted, she was not in any
sense of the word amiable, but she had certain sentiments,
and Bertha managed to arouse them. When she saw
tears in her young companion’s eyes now, she
laid her hand on her arm.
“What is it, dear? I should
be sorry to be cross with you. You are a very
good girl and suit me admirably.”
“It was just the fear that I
was not quite suiting you that was troubling me,”
replied Bertha. “Say that again, kind, dear
benefactress, and you will make me the happiest girl
in the world.”
“No one ever suited me so well.
You are surely not jealous of my affection for dear
Maurice?”
“Oh, no; I love him myself,” said Bertha.
Mrs. Aylmer looked grave. She rose slowly.
“Ring for my maid, will you,
Bertha? I shall go to bed; I am tired,”
said the great lady.
The maid appeared a moment later,
and the two left the room together. As Mrs. Aylmer
slowly undressed, she thought of Bertha’s last
words: “I love him myself.”
“Nonsense,” said Mrs.
Aylmer to herself; “she is ten years his senior
if she’s a day; nevertheless, I must be careful.
She is a clever woman; I should be sorry to have to
do without her, but I often wonder what her past was.
I made very few enquiries with regard to her history.
I wanted someone to be with me at the time, and she
took my fancy.”
Downstairs Bertha slowly unfastened
the little parcel and looked at the five ten-pound
notes which were rolled up within.
“After all, it’s just
as well that I should have this money by me as that
I should give it to Florence Aylmer,” she said
to herself. “I must think of some other
way to tempt her, and the money will be useful.
I shall put it back into the post-office and wait
awhile. She is certain to go to London, and equally
certain to fail. I can tempt her with some of
my stories. I will manage to get her address.
Yes, clever as you think yourself, Florence, you will
be in my power, and before many weeks are over.”