The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1883-05-25
"But you do not care for him !"
"Qu' importe he shall propose.
UNevprn

villa at Putney. Mr. and Mrs. Neville |
were there of course Florence had
an exquisite bouquet, but she saw Lord |
Clyde advancing toward her; there
fore she prudently dropped it into the
centre of large myrtle bush.
"You have no bouquet, Miss Neville
was one of his lordship's first remarks,
care you not fond of flowers =
Eyes, passionately," said Florence,
"but have lost mine. am sorry for
| fear shall not find another so beau
tiful"
"Will you allow me to endeavor to
supply its place with this 7" was the
instant reply.
Florence smiled and blushed as she
took it; the smile was art, but the
blush was nature, for she could not
help it. Lord st. Clyde's eyes were
fixed OH her face and the next moment
she found herself walking with him,
while Mr.. Neville was speaking to the
hostess, whose grand daughter was
looking very spiteful Florence play
ed her part to admiration. Lord st.
Clyde was in her power, for she had
engaged him in an animated filtration.
They were standing on the brink of
beautiful fountain, when the Earl ex-
claimed:
"Do you know the language of
flowers, Miss Neville 2"
"No," said Florence, "but it must be
very pretty; do you know it, my
| lord ?"
"Yes, by heart"
"Then tell me what these flowers
mean!' exclaimed the beauty, quite
innocently, as she offered him his
bouquet, which was composed of
white rose, pink rosebud, some myr-
tie and one gerauium. The Earl hesi-
tated and laughed, then suddenly re-
covering himself, he said They speak
in their simple language the sentiments
that dare not in words expresss y
Florence felt her heart beating, but
she only laughed that laugh encour-
aged the Earl. "Florence, forgive me
| if"
"Ah, Miss Neville, have been
looking for you everywhere, and here
you are, all alone" cried one of Flor
ence's gay train, the elegant Sir Percy
Hope.
'Oh, no; not alone" said Florence,
rather annoyed, "Lord st. Clyde
why, where is"
The Earl was gone.
"Forence, did Lord st. Clyde pro-
pose to day." said Emma to her cousin
in the evening.
"Not quite, but as nearly as possible
Il declare l will never speak to Sir
Percy Hope again!"
Time! Time! can nothing stay
thee?
The season was passing rapidly and
Florence had four proposals. OF
course she had refused them, although
they had not been rendered by the
Earl of st. Clyde. Still she said ale
shall propose" until the last opera OF
the season.
Pale, languid, but still delicately
beautiful, the spoiled and petted Flor
ence leaned back in her box, deaf to
the strains of the syren Grisi regard
less of the adulation around her and
disgusted with everything in the shape
Of gayety. She leaned back in hel
easy chair and closed her eyes for sec
ond. On opening them she saw pair Of
dark eyes fixed with more than com
mon earnestness on her face. 1t was
Lord ST. Clyde-those wild eyes could
only belong to him. What possessed
Florence at that moment' She die
not bow; she did not smile she mere
ly bent forward and whispered th
word of departure to her chaperon, ant
then winding her cashmere round he
she placed her arm within that of 81
Percy Hope and left the box.
The next morning Florence wa
really unwell She said "nct at home
) to every one, and began to tune he
: harp. String after string gave way a
she drew them up.
!, "Like me, poor harp" she signed
"you are sinking, spelling from neg
: lect.'
Suddenly the door opened and Wis
itor was announced.
"Not at home" said Florence, hast
ly.
, 'Pardon me, Tor once disobey,
said voice, and Lord Clyde entered
He continued l have intruded cor
a fess, but it is only for moment;
come, Miss Neville, to wish you--t
e bid you a long-and perhaps la,
Z farewell"
y Farewell" said Florence, drol
4 ping her harp key; ''this resolutio
}. has been taken quite suddenly has
+, not?"
v "No:' replied the Earl; 81 al
J. going to seek in Italy the happine'
/ which is denied me here"
; "Italy p exclaimed Florence, turl
ing her eyes like melting sapphires c
t. the Eal-''dear, bright, sunny Italy
d my own fair land!"
i "Is it yours, Miss Neville!" said
e Clyde, eagerly.
4, "Yes, my lord, Florence was n
5, birthplace, and my home for fourteC
G happy years"
v Lord st. Clyde paused-nothng
is so awkward as pause in tete-a tett
he ielt this, and quickly rousing hil
n self, he said hastily:
1t Il will not interrupt you any longt
Farewell! perhaps we may me
t, again"
lie "Perhaps we may-good-bye," sa
le Florence, extending her hand it W
III slightly pressed, and she was alor
Fol a moment she felt as if the pa
!; were dream; but glancing on
er ground, she saw white glove-it W
ne the Earls She turned away, an
leaning ON the marble slab of bea
ID tiful mirror, she gazed at the fault,
p. reflection of her face
"Beauty beauty| murmured $
-"paltry gift since it could not W
er st. Clyde T. And burying that you
III face in her hands she fairly burst ii
passion of tears.
IT. "Florence my Iown, my idolized
said voice close to her. She turn
e; with O real, genuine. unartificial shri,