ence. At last the little book from her
waist was brought forth, and Harry's name was duly inscribed. The next
dance was a quadrille, and he saw that the space after that was also
vacant; so he boldly wrote down his name for both. I almost think that
Florence must have suspected that Harry Annesley was to be there that
night, or why should the two places have been kept vacant? "And now what
is this," he began, "about your going to Brussels?"

"Mamma's brother is minister there, and we are just going on a visit."

"But why now? I am sure there is some especial cause." Florence would
not say that there was no especial cause, so she could only repeat her
assertion that they certainly were going to Brussels. She herself was
well aware that she was to be taken out of Harry's way, and that
something was expected to occur during this short month of her absence
which might be detrimental to him,--and to her also. But this she could
not tell, nor did she like to say that the plea given by her mother was
the general state of the Scarborough affairs. She did not wish to
declare to this lover that that other lover was as nothing to her. "And
how long are you to be away?" asked Harry.

"We shall be a month with Sir Magnus; but mamma is talking of going on
afterward to the Italian lakes."

"Good heavens! you will not be back, I suppose, till ever so much after
Christmas?"

"I cannot tell. Nothing as yet has been settled. I do not know that I
ought to tell you anything about it." Harry at this moment looked up,
and caught the eye of Mrs. Mountjoy, as she was standing in the door-way
opposite. Mrs. Mountjoy certainly looked as though no special
communication as to Florence's future movements ought to be made to
Harry Annesley.

Then, however, it came to his turn to dance, and he had a moment allowed
to him to collect his thoughts. By nothing that he could do or say could
he prevent her going, and he could only use the present moment to the
best purpose in his power. He bethought himself then that he had never
received from her a word of encouragement, and that such word, if ever
to be spoken, should be forthcoming that night. What might not happen to
a girl who was passing the balmy Christmas months amid the sweet shadows
of an Italian lake? Harry's ideas of an Italian lake were, in truth, at
present somewhat vague. But future months were, to his thinking,
interminable; the present moment only was his own. The dance was now
finis