at morning that she was to be married, and could not
fulfill her plans with him, and that I could rest in peace, for she was
going to be a really good girl now, and settle down as properly as I
could wish. I believed her, and was entirely deceived by the quiet,
contented aspect that marked her from that day, and was overjoyed at the
happiness that seemed to come to her as the day of our double marriage
drew near. She spent much of her time with Walter, and the rest almost
entirely with me, and we had hours of delightful chatter of when we
would be sisters indeed, and always live together, for papa and Walter
were devoted brothers.

"It all comes back to me now, so terribly clear, how the day before our
wedding came, and Florence was in such a state of ecstatic happiness;
she left me in the evening with the warmest, tenderest kisses and
embraces, and said she would be on hand early in the morning, for we
were to be married at ten o'clock. While we were at breakfast next
morning, her maid came over in great haste, to know if she was with me,
that she wasn't at home, and evidently had not been, as her room was
untouched. It seemed for a moment that I could not move, so great was
the terror that possessed me; then I jumped up, snatched a hat and ran
all the way to her home, without once thinking of amazed observers. She
was gone. There was a little note left for me, and no word for any one
else; she had gone with Clarence Clare, who had arrived the day before,
and, perhaps, even as I stood there reading her hurried words, she was
being married, or was already his wife. I can never tell you of the
tempest of grief that fell upon two homes, or how we ever got through
that wretched day. Papa came to me for just a few minutes, then hurried
off to stay with Walter who had not spoken, or betrayed any signs of
consciousness since the word of Florence's desertion reached him. We
knew from that day that he could not live, and though he was never ill,
he died slowly, lingering with us only about six months, and his last
words were to papa and me, spoken just before he died: 'If she ever
comes back, tell her I forgave her, that I loved her to the last, and
prayed God every hour that she might be happy.'

"A little while after, papa and I were married, and moved to Richmond.
He received nothing from Uncle Congreve, you know, so we both had to go
to work, and we were very happy, for papa was brave, strong and
honorable, and he prospere