s and kissing them.

"Yes, yes, when he knows you better," cried Florence, making an effort
to cast off the shadow that lay upon her heart, "when he knows all
your goodness, all the noble qualities that have won the heart of your
Florence."

As Jameson bent his lips to the young girl's forehead they were curled
by a faint sneering smile. That smile was blended with the kiss he
imprinted there. It left no sting--the poison touched no one of the
delicate nerves that awoke and thrilled to the fanning of his breath,
and yet it would have been perceptible to an observer as the glitter
of a rattle-snake.

"I am sure you love me, Florence."

"Love you!" her breath swelled and fluttered as the words left her
lips. "Love! I fear--I know that all this is idolatry!"

"Else why are you here."

"Truly, most truly!"

"Risking all things, even reputation, for me, and I so unworthy."

"Reputation!" cried Florence, her pride suddenly stung with the venom
that lay within those honied words. "Not reputation, Jameson; I do not
risk that; I could not--it would be death!"

"And yet you are here, alone with me, beloved, in this old house."

"But I am here to become your wife--only to become your wife. I risk
my father's displeasure--I know that--I am disobedient, wicked, cruel
to him, but his good name--my own good name--no, no, nothing that I
have done should endanger that."

The proud girl was much agitated, and the dove-like fondness that had
brooded in her eyes a moment before began to kindle up to an
expression that the lover became earnest to change.

"You take me up too seriously," he said, attempting to draw her toward
him, but she resisted proudly. "I only spoke of _possible_ not
probable risk, and that because the clergyman would be persuaded to
come down here only on a promise that the marriage should be kept a
secret till some means could be found of reconciling the old
gentleman, or at any rate for a week or two."

"And you gave the promise," said Florence, while her beautiful
features settled into a grieved and dissatisfied expression. "You gave
this promise?"

"Why, Florence, what ails you? I had no choice. You had already left
home, and he would listen to no other terms."

"A week or two--our marriage kept secret so long," said Florence in a
tone of dissatisfaction. "You did well to say I was risking much for
you. My life had been little--but this--"

"And is this too much? Do you begin to regret, Florence