per than serpent's tooth!' But what is your
intention in the future?"
"Justice," he replied. "I cannot bear this. It troubles me more than I
can say. If you will not reinstate the girl who ought to be your heiress
in her right position, I at least will do what I can for her. I will
offer her all I have."
"You! you!" Mrs. Aylmer now indeed turned pale. She rose from her seat
and came a step nearer the young man.
"You are mad; you must be mad," she said. "What does this mean?"
"It means that I intend to propose for Florence Aylmer. Whether she will
accept me or not God only knows, but I love her."
"You told me a short time ago that you were not her lover."
"I had not then looked into my own heart. Now I find that I care for no
one else. Her image fills my mind day and night; I am unhappy about
her--too unhappy to endure this state of things any longer."
"Do you think she will take you, a penniless man? Do you think you are
a good match for her or for any girl?"
"That has nothing to do with it. If she loves me she will accept all
that I can give her, and I can work for my living."
"I will not listen to another word of this. You have pained me
inexpressibly."
"You gave me time to decide, and I have decided. If you will forgive
Miss Aylmer whatever she happened to do to displease you, if you will
make her joint heiress with me in your estates, then we will both serve
you and love you most faithfully and most truly; but if you will not
give her back her true position I at least will offer her all that a man
can offer--his heart, his worship, and all the talent he possesses. I
can work for my wife, and before God I shall be fifty times happier than
in my present position."
Mrs. Aylmer pointed to the door.
"I will not speak to you any more," she said. "This is disastrous,
disgraceful! Go! Leave my presence!"
CHAPTER XXXV.
THE ESSAY AROUSES CRITICISM.
Thomas Franks was much relieved when, on the morning after her return to
town, Florence sent him the paper which Bertha had written. Florence
herself took the precaution to carefully copy it out. As she did so, she
could scarcely read the words; there were burning spots on her cheeks,
and her head ached terribly.
Having completed her task, she sent it off by post, and Tom Franks, in
good time, received Bertha's work. He read it over at first with some
slight trepidation, then with smiling eyes and a heart beating high with
satisfaction.
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