Year: 1878

pressed tor long while. She told them
that she had written to the master, and
given him the particulars concerning her
death. Florence felt that the least SAID
about Hagar's death the better it wonld


be for her; for she well knew that if Sir


Henry's auspicions were aroused IN re-
gard to the matter, that she would fail


most unquestionably in the admirable


plot which her scheming mind had in


vented; and she also knew that ON her
success in this plan depended the great
est attainments of her future life, which,
If gained. would be valuable and timely
acquisition, for she was needy, and lily
prepared to meet the exigences of COM
mon prosaic life


Sir Henry would be home tomorrow,
and Florence anticipated his arrival with
a slight degree of Impotence. During
his absence, she devoted much of her
time to studying the most affective way
OF exercising her influence over him


AS Florence had only meagre appreci-
alton Of real truth. it will, think, be an
easy matter to prejudice this good and
unsusDicious man in her favor


Florence had not the remotest idea ol
letting slip the opportunity of possess
ing situation that would affect so ma
terially her future welfare. At first she
seemed undetermined as to the course of
action she ought to pursue with Sir Hen
ry; but with her busy-working brain sht
soon arrived at conclusion that was


eminently satisfactory. After fully set
tling within her mind what she would
do, without a shadow of remorse for her


wickedness. she went about it with a


never-iailing artifice and selt-deceit that


was surprising. Therefore she put ON


a thorough disguise of action Sc as to
conceal her intentions from those around
her All this was done to satisfy the
cravings OF guilty. ambitious heart.
At last the long-loGked Tor evening came
that brought Sir Henry home A beau
tifui picture presented itself to him, as
he stood upon the Threshold looking in
upon the pleasant scene that was beng
enacted in the brilliant, yet coy draw
| ing-room, where Florence. attred in a
tasteful. becoming suit. was engaged. to
all appearances, in very interesting
romp with baby Henry. To the little
child it was really an appreciative thing
| but to the other. it was only tedious
| waste of time yet she could " ell afford
to play with papa's darling Henry. when
she knew that he was Spectator to the
part she was playing so dlvinely. When
| little Henry saw his father. he held up
both hands IN his childish glee, Sir
Henry clasped him lovingly 70 his great
heart; then he shook hands warmly with
Florence, and thanked her. in his elo-
qu.nt way, for the tender care and at
tention which he honestly believed she
had given the little one in his absence.
Florence replied that she had only done
her tuty-a duty which she felt she



kindness bestowed on her. This pretty
little speech. .premeditated and touching.
had its desired effect-for she succeeded,
by giving utterance to such sentiments,
in making Sir Henry believe that she
was rich IN the possession of grateful
heart. when really there was not SO
q Of S,,Ia IN tha
whole Of her composition; but what did
it matter, so long as he did not know it.


Florence e1erted every faculty OF her
crafty brain to invent new and varied
pleasantrles, that would pass away the
time agreeably. and thus prevent Sir
Henry from seeking pleasure and society I
from home. She would not allow little |
Henry to remain in the nursery hardly
an hour at time. but kept him contin-
ually with her, in the family-ruom, or
wherever she CHANGED to be- Altogether, |
it was rather an enjoyable sight Tor the
colonel, to watch his boy. sporting in his
childish glee, with beautiful and fas-
cinating woman hovering over him.
Thus it was that the gloom. which, for
time. shrouded his home. began to wear
away. Somehow, it occurred to him,
that "Floy" had such way of making
home pleasant and attractive. that, after
all, he could extract drop OF sweetness
from the cup which he thought was re-
plete with bitterness. Poor man. in the
end he found that It was sweetness
dearly bought. and one which soon lost
its strength OF beauty. But of Florence,
what did it matter to her? Nothing for
she saw and knew that her charms were
seducing HIM to the purpose which She
swore. within her heart, that he should
answer. His fate was inevitably in her
hands. and now he was powerless to
help himself Florence knew that ere
long Sir Henry would ask her to be his
wife. and then another good mans lille
would be accursed Ivy woman's craft ;but
she could not afford to lose when she
had risked SO much
Things went on n this manner for some
time. and at last Florence grew weary
OF playing her part; therefore she deter
mined to bring about more perfect un-
in relation to the affair be.
'ween them. So. that evening, at din
ner. she told Sir Henry that, in few
lays, she would leave for London; that '
'he had received very pressing invita-. c
ion from an aunt residing in that place,
% spend the winter with her Florence I
vas quick to observe the flush which L
swept over Sir Henry's usually pale face,
md, with downcast eyes, she went on to t
ay she had been very happy ever since
he came to his house. and that to him
he felt largely indebted for the abundant
hare OF pleasure which bad frightened
many hours of her life, that otherwise
would have been dim and cheerless At y
bis juncture. Sir Henry looked across fl
he table, and saw that Florence was
eeply affected. insomuch that great O
sar-drops. like liquid dew .trembled and o
on the long, beautiful lashes; g
oou1h aha afrova horS 70 ho1I tL... | l.