last week, and his
mind was tormented with reflecting what might yet be his condition. But
of one thing he was sure, that his father and Mountjoy were not in
league together. Mountjoy at any rate believed himself to have been
disinherited. Mountjoy conceived that his only chance of obtaining money
arose from his brother. The circumstances of Mountjoy's absence were, at
any rate, unknown to his father.

CHAPTER X.

SIR MAGNUS MOUNTJOY.

It was the peculiarity of Florence Mountjoy that she did not expect
other people to be as good as herself. It was not that she erected for
herself a high standard and had then told herself that she had no right
to demand from others one so exalted. She had erected nothing. Nor did
she know that she attempted to live by grand rules. She had no idea that
she was better than anybody else; but it came to her naturally as the
result of what had gone before, to be unselfish, generous, trusting, and
pure. These may be regarded as feminine virtues, and may be said to be
sometimes tarnished, by faults which are equally feminine. Unselfishness
may become want of character; generosity essentially unjust; confidence
may be weak, and purity insipid. Here it was that the strength of
Florence Mountjoy asserted itself. She knew well what was due to
herself, though she would not claim it. She could trust to another, but
in silence be quite sure of herself. Though pure herself, she was rarely
shocked by the ways of others. And she was as true as a man pretends to
be.

In figure, form, and face she never demanded immediate homage by the
sudden flash of her beauty. But when her spell had once fallen on a
man's spirit it was not often that he could escape from it quickly. When
she spoke a peculiar melody struck the hearer's ears. Her voice was soft
and low and sweet, and full at all times of harmonious words; but when
she laughed it was like soft winds playing among countless silver bells.
There was something in her touch which to men was almost divine. Of this
she was all unconscious, but was as chary with her fingers as though it
seemed that she could ill spare her divinity.

In height she was a little above the common, but it was by the grace of
her movements that the world was compelled to observe her figure. There
are women whose grace is so remarkable as to demand the attention of
all. But then it is known of them, and momentarily seen, that their
grace is peculiar. They have studied their