that he
was responsible for his brother's absence. But she knew that she
disliked him, and in some way she connected his name with Harry's
misfortune.

Of one thing she was certain: let them,--the Mountjoys, and Prospers, and
the rest of the world,--think and say what they would of Harry, she would
be true to him. She could understand that his character might be made to
suffer, but it should not suffer in her estimation. Or rather, let it
suffer ever so, that should not affect her love and her truth. She did
not say this to herself. By saying it even to herself she would have
committed some default of truth. She did not whisper it even to her own
heart. But within her heart there was a feeling that, let Harry be right
or wrong in what he had done, even let it be proved, to the satisfaction
of all the world, that he had sinned grievously when he had left the man
stunned and bleeding on the pavement,--for to such details her mother's
story had gone,--still, to her he should be braver, more noble, more
manly, more worthy of being loved, than was any other man. She,
perceiving the difficulties that were in store for her, and looking
forward to the misfortune under which Harry might be placed, declared to
herself that he should at least have one friend who would be true to
him.

"Miss Mountjoy, I have come to you with a message from your aunt." This
was said, three or four days after the conversation between Florence and
her mother, by Mr. Anderson, who had contrived to follow the young lady
into a small drawing-room after luncheon. What was the nature of the
message it is not necessary for us to know. We may be sure that it had
been manufactured by Mr. Anderson for the occasion. He had looked about
and spied, and had discovered that Miss Mountjoy was alone in the little
room. And in thus spying we consider him to have been perfectly
justified. His business at the moment was that of making love, a
business which is allowed to override all other considerations. Even the
making an office copy of a report made by Mr. Blow for the signature of
Sir Magnus might, according to our view of life, have been properly laid
aside for such a purpose. When a young man has it in him to make love to
a young lady, and is earnest in his intention, no duty, however
paramount, should be held as a restraint. Such was Mr. Anderson's
intention at the present moment; and therefore we think that he was
justified in concocting a message from Lady M