urtis, I love that girl. Her mother seemed to live again in
her. Have I not acted cruelly in requiring her to obey me or leave the
house?"
"You have acted only for good. You are seeking her happiness."
"You really think this, Curtis?"
"I am sure of it."
"But how will it all end?" asked Linden, bending an anxious look upon
his wily nephew.
"By Florence yielding."
"You are sure of that?"
"Yes. Listen, uncle; Florence is only capricious, like most girls of
her age. She foolishly desires to have her own way. It is nothing more
serious, I can assure you."
"But she has left the house. That seems to show that she is in
earnest."
"She thinks, uncle, that by doing so she can bend you to her wishes.
She hasn't the slightest idea of any permanent separation. She is
merely experimenting upon your weakness. She expects you will recall
her in a week, at the latest. That is all of it."
Like most weak men, it made Mr. Linden angry to have his strength
doubted.
"You think that?" he said.
"I have no doubt of it."
"She shall find that I am resolute," he said, irritably. "I will not
recall her."
"Bravo, uncle! Only stick to that, and she will yield unconditionally
within a fortnight. A little patience, and you will carry your point.
Then all will be smooth sailing."
"I hope so, Curtis. Your words have cheered me. I will be patient. But
I hope I shan't have to wait long. Where is the morning paper?"
"I shall have to humor and deceive him," thought Curtis. "I shall have
a difficult part to play, but I am sure to succeed at last."
Chapter XI.
Florence Secures Employment.
For a few days after being installed in her new home Florence was like
one dazed.
She could not settle her mind to any plan of self-support.
She was too unhappy in her enforced exile from her home, and it
saddened her to think that the uncle who had always been so kind was
permanently estranged from her.
Though Mrs. O'Keefe was kind, and Dodger was her faithful friend, she
could not accustom herself to her poor surroundings.
She had not supposed luxury so essential to her happiness.
It was worse for her because she had nothing to do but give way to her
morbid fancies.
This Mrs. O'Keefe was clear-sighted enough to see.
"I am sorry to see you so downcast like, my dear young lady," she
said.
"How can I help it, Mrs. O'Keefe?" returned Florence.
"Try not to think of your wicked cousin, my dear."
"It isn'
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