The Republican journal., 1873-05-01

But Florence, despite an air of sadness
which had hardly left her face since had
been at the Chase, was the handsomest
picture | ever saw. | asked her for the
first waltz, and got it. Ny first words to
her, after we had retired 10 the lovely
conservatory, were:
Florence, have you forgotten four
years ago?"
She never answered me, and | thought
would not press the subject then The
next dance was II quadrille, and was too
sad to DO anything; sol went up to Mary,
and asked her if she would not sit it out
with me. | did not hesitate u moment
When we were alone, to ask her il she
knew anything Of Florence's reasons for
throwing me over so coldly and so sud
denly. She SAID no; it 50 remained a
mystery to her as TO me-the only possible
clue she could give me being that she
might have heard that had been flirting
with somebody else
''No, Mary" | said, '.you know me too
well for that"
| then asked Mary if Winning was not
engaged to Florence, and if she did not
care tor him
why" said she, ''don't you know that
he is engaged to Mile, and is only wait
ing for fathers consent to get married at
once p-only they had little milf to-day
because he thought you were paving at
tention to Milly-that's all"
The next dance | had with Florence
was the seventh. The very words she
said to me were:
'Mr. Henniker, am sorry tor your
disappointment"
] answered nothing to this, but in a
moment | said to her:
Florence, why did you send me that
cruel message ?"
She looked at me with her frank blue
eyes and said:
"Claude, heard you were engaged to
Mary
Then said:
Now it is too late; you seem to have
ceased to care for me-"
The blue eyes filled with tears; the lips
said nothing.
As bad luck would have it, the music
struck up for another dance, and I saw
Charles Dawkins coming out of the dane
ing room to look tor Florence, his part
ner
Don't leave me Florence; l am so
very wretched."
What tor2 Why are YOU wretched ?"
because you hate me-"
Then the blue eyes looked bright again,
and she said:
Then you'd better be happy"
She was wearing a white camelia in
her dress, and | said;
'tGive it to me-
Il will give it to the one love"
Charles Dawkins came up, claimed her
hand, and left me in misery, to walk up
and down on the lawn till it was time Tor
me to claim the next dance with her The
time came at last | went into the ROOM
Charles Dawkins was again talking to
her with the white camelia in his hand.
The whole thing was plain enough now
she loved him. I was in agony, and
without a word | turned on my heel. and
strobe out OF the room. To put on my
coat and hat was but the work of mo.
ment; and then scarcely knowing what
was about [ started to walk home to the
Chase three miles off.
l slept for an hour or two, then rose |
packed all my things, and at daybreak got
a fly to take all my things to tie station. |
A note on my dressing table told my uncle |
the reason Of my going, and adding that |
had sustained fearful disappointment
about my class. | meant that my hard |
won honors were useless to me without |
Florence's love to spread a halo of sun |
light over them; but my words were am |
biguous
The train was Just starting that was
going to take me to London en- route for |
anywhere, when the little pony carriage
drove up, Florence and my good uncle |
inside OF it.
Stop him stop him - exclaimed the
yood-natured old gentleman, all radiant
with smiles
| turned around in surprise at seeing
Florence holding in her hand the white
,amelia of the preceding evening, and
uncle Guy, with shy smile said:
81 know all about it, you Young rascal,
you made a precious mistake
| said that | had; but couldn't help
Now my boy" said uncle Guy, "you
wo can walk home by the lanes together,
md I'll drive the pony carriage bv the
Dad
What a happy walk that was Flor
ence told NE that it was all mistake
lbout the camelia.
"Mr. Dawkins wanted to exchange his
or mine; but you know | wanted mine
OF particular purpose"
When we reached home-looking very
guilty, but very happy-everything was
satisfactorily explained; but luncheon had
been waiting some time. Uncle Guy tor
gave US, and told me | wasn't such fool
after all, and added that he thought
ar more of my sense in getting Florence
o promise TO be my wife One thing he
stipulated with Mrs. Betterton was that
ne should have Il wedding breakfast at
lis own old Chase, and that he should put
that rascal of nephew of mine' in
position to marry the lovely Florence.
lave the white camelia still, and before
ong shall be going down to Broadbeach
gain to claim the fulfilment of the prom
Sc which | received with it. Milly is
soing out to India with her husband Vim
ling; but we-Florence and myself-are
o live in the old Chase, and take care of
'ur Uncle Guy