Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1892-04-21
CHAPTER v.


by a shady garden, was the private resi-
dence of John Carrington-not Esquire,
for the owner was chemist, possessing
thriving business somewhere in the neigh
borhood of Old Bond Street, where he
spent the greater part of his time busily
enough, not always compromising pills or
making up prescriptions, but overlooking
two or three assistants, and experimenting
little on his own account, keeping mas
ter's eye on the oId-es tablished and pros
porous business.
He was mild earnest-looking man, .
little past middle age, with thick gray hair
and clear bright blue eyes-one with gen.
tie honest face that inspired confidence
He was man who liked to see his own
home well ordered and trim, his wife la
dy in every sense of the word. His daugh-
tiers gentle and refined. Such was Flor
ence Worthington's uncle, or rather the
husband Of her aunt, her mothers only
sister, to whose home she had been warmly
invited.
What is she like, MOTHER" was asked
repeatedly by Maud and Ethel Darlington,
as they waited in great excitement for the
arrival of their new cousin; but the answer
was always the same. and to them never
satisfying
81 cannot tell you Ethel. 1t is impossi-
bic to say, since L have seen SO little of
your cousin"
"But when you did see her, mother
what was she like then" Ethel persisted.
The first time, a baby month old,
oyerburdened with silk and lace; the sec
ond, dear little fairy of three years, whom
/ saw in midwinter, and whom 1 longed to
take and wrap in warm soft clothing, like
yours used to be, but who was wonderful
y dressed in the height of fashion then,
with little bare neck and arms; the third,
which was the other day, slight pale girl
in deep mourning, VINO seemed broken
down with grief, and made my heart ache
as | looked at her"
"But why have you seen so little of her,
mother" Maud Darlington asked wonder
lngly. "She is our own cousin"
"Because, my dear, l could see that my
visits were intrusive; because, although
she is my own niece, | am a chemists wife
and she Baronet's daughter and niece of
| a Countess. The gulf between us is a
wide one; and your father did not care that
L should be an unwelcome visitor. Your
cousin could not possibly have wanted for
anything but mothers care, and that
they would not allow me to give her."
81 do hope she will be nice, MOTHER"
hauu Salu anAlOuSlv.
al hope so too, my dear; but we must
be content with her as she is" Mrs. Car
rinton answered, as if with lingering
doubt OH the subject. "Poor girl, she is
desolate enough, and, if she knows any,
thing ut all, must feel terribly distressed
about her fathers affairs; but / hope they
have kept the worst from her. At any
rate, We will try to do the best we can for
her. She will be pleased with her rooms,
and she must like you both my dears."
81 hope she will like Philip" Maud sug-
gested
and | think it is of much importance
that Philip should like her." Ethel an
swered with implied indignation in her
voice. But he is sure to do that; dear old
Phil always likes everybody" she added;
and her dark eyes grew brighter still as
she uttered the name of one she evidently
loved so we'll
And this was to be Florence Worthing-
toms new home-the home she pictured
with such sickening dread, such loathing
thoughts To do her justice, she really
knew nothing of her aunt and cousins;
nevertheless to her they were hideously, IA
tally distasteful, being made so by the
stamp of trade. They were tradesman's
wife and daughters, let them be ever so
perfect in all else. TO Florence they could
never come within her own charmed circle,
or the circle her own imagination had
marked out as impossible.
In mute adieu Miss Florence Worth
ington, with white, worn face and an
aching heart, had swept through all the
deserted rooms in Portman Square, linger-
ing longest in her fathers study, and adj
ding to her pain as she did so, leaning low
rr1I h all1ir Xxrhn aS1,a
trace the impress of his weary head-she
little knew how weary it had been-where
she had talked to him so hopefully on that
very last occasion. and there seemed such
entire confidence between them, and when,
in spite of all, her future se~med so bright,
ner position such proud one. She pass
ed on to the conservatory, staying mo-
ment at the spot where Lord Harcourt's
vows had been offered to her, his coronet
held out for her acceptance. She fingered
longer at the orange-tree, given to her in
such happy times by Hugh Carleton, and
from which something prompted her to
break off spray with bud and leaf-a
souvenir of happiest times, she thought
Then all was over, and she had to leave
the home where her spoilt, though rather
lonely childhood and her bright thought
less girlhood had been passed-dearer
now to herln remembrance thousand times
than 1t had ever been in reality-and she
vowed thatin her lifetime she would never
again pass its threshold.
The house had been taken just as it was
by her cousin, the heir, who, with a show
of generosity, had begged her to select and
retain anything and everything it might
give her the slightest pleasure to keep or
possess for her own use. But it was Flor
ence's present nature to scorn all such gen.
erosity; and she hated her fathers heir
with jealous hate, as almost a usurper.
She looked upon his offer as presumptuous,
and intended only to humiliate her; she
even took a martyrs pleasure in depriving
herself of many birthday gifts and SPLEEN
did presents-hers almost by right-which
had adorned her own rooms, which she
might have still kept with little loss of
dignity. She left them all, retaining only
the few trinkets her mother had possessed,
and others of small value that had been
given to her personally, or that in her Law
lsh extravaganza she had purchased for her
own adornment. Her splendid wardrobe
lit almost for princesS-was left 10 her,
and now, packed in large eases, was stand
ing ready in the hall to go with her to Full
ham. Lady Ravens carriage was at tire
door, and cab to convey the luggage. In
few minutes Florence would have left
for ever her old happy home, and the in
terval was a very bitter one to her.
Lady Raven had decided to take her
niece to Fulham, thinking-perhap wisely
that with some people it might give
Florence more prestige in her new home.
The announcement of 'sThe Countess of
Raven and Miss Worthington" did make