before;
she is the very person. I will meet you to-morrow morning here,
Florence, and then you can tell me what you decide. It will be all the
better for you if you are wise: all the worse for you if you are silly.
Now go home, as I see you are dying to do so."

Florence turned away from her companion without even bidding her
good-bye: her heart was in a tumult. She scarcely knew what to say or
what to do.

She did not want to injure Bertha, and yet she hated to feel that she
was in her present position. She disliked her as much as it was possible
for her to dislike anyone.

"She makes me feel bad," thought the girl; "she brings back the dreadful
past. Oh, I was a wicked girl; but she helped to make me so. She brings
back the dreadful, dreadful past."

By the time she had reached her mother's cottage she resolved to tell
her exactly what had transpired and to ask her advice.

"For the little Mummy must also have learned her lesson: the little
Mummy will tell me what is right to do," thought the girl.

But when she entered the house Mrs. Aylmer was nowhere to be seen.

Sukey, on the contrary, came forward with an important manner.

"Well, Miss Flo," she said, "when you come to the place, that aunt of
yours seems also to put in an appearance. Your mother has had a note
from her. She is staying at the 'Crown and Garter,' and Mrs. Aylmer has
gone up there to tea. No, you are not invited, Miss Flo, and sorry I am
that you are not."

"It doesn't matter, Sukey," replied Florence. She sighed as she spoke.

"Have you a bit of a headache, my dear?" asked the old servant.

"Yes, I think I have," answered the girl.

"I'll get you your tea, and the tea for the other pretty young lady too.
You can have it in the porch. It's a lovely evening. It don't do for
girls to have headaches; but there's nothing to set you right like a cup
of tea."

Sukey bustled off to prepare the simple meal, and presently Kitty came
downstairs. She was refreshed by her sleep and inclined to be merry with
Florence. Florence, however, felt too anxious to talk much.

"What is the matter with you, Florry? Are you worried about anything?"
asked the companion. "Oh, I suppose it is about that wretched Bertha
Keys. What can she be doing here?"

"You'll be amazed when I tell you that I saw Bertha this afternoon,"
continued Florence. "Where do you think she is staying? What post do you
think she has secured?"

"How can I tell?" answered Kitty, rai