out one
word of farewell."

She took up a sheet of paper, and wrote, rapidly:

"Dear Uncle: You have told me to leave your house, and I
obey. I cannot tell you how sad I feel, when I reflect that I
have lost your love, and must go forth among strangers--I
know not where. I was but a little girl when you gave me a
home. I have grown up in an atmosphere of love, and I have
felt very grateful to you for all you have done for me. I
have tried to conform to your wishes, and I would obey you in
all else--but I cannot marry Curtis; I think I would rather
die. Let me still live with you as I have done. I do not care
for any part of your money--leave it all to him, if you think
best--but give me back my place in your heart. You are angry
now, but you will some time pity and forgive your poor
Florence, who will never cease to bless and pray for you.
Good-bye!

"Florence."

She was about to sign herself Florence Linden, but reflected that she
was no longer entitled to use a name which would seem to carry with it
a claim upon her uncle.

The tears fell upon the paper as she was writing, but she heeded them
not. It was the saddest hour of her life. Hitherto she had been
shielded from all sorrow, and secure in the affection of her uncle,
had never dreamed that there would come a time when she would feel
obliged to leave all behind her, and go out into the world, friendless
and penniless, but poorest of all in the loss of that love which she
had hitherto enjoyed.

After completing the note, Florence let her head fall upon the table,
and sobbed herself to sleep.

An hour and a half passed, the servant looked in, but noticing that
her mistress was sleeping, contented herself with lowering the gas,
but refrained from waking her.

And so she slept on till the French clock upon the mantle struck
eleven.

Five minutes later and the door of the room slowly opened, and a boy
entered on tiptoe. He was roughly dressed. His figure was manly and
vigorous, and despite his stealthy step and suspicious movements his
face was prepossessing.

He started when he saw Florence.

"What, a sleeping gal!" he said to himself. "Tim told me I'd find the
coast clear, but I guess she's sound asleep, and won't hear nothing. I
don't half like this job, but I've got to do as Tim told me. He says
he's my father, so I s'pose it's all right. All th