some one, and I don't see why Grascour should
not have as good a chance as another." Anderson had stalked away,
brooding over the injustice of his position, and declaring to himself
that this Belgian should never be allowed to marry Florence Mountjoy in
peace.

But M. Grascour continued his attentions; and this it was which had
induced Florence to tell her mother that the Belgian was "a great
trouble," which ought to be avoided by a return to England.

CHAPTER XLVII.

FLORENCE BIDS FAREWELL TO HER LOVERS.

"Mamma, had you not better take me back to Cheltenham at once?"

"Has that unfortunate young man written to you?"

"Yes. The young man whom you call unfortunate has written. Of course I
cannot agree to have him so called. And, to tell the truth, I don't
think he is so very unfortunate. He has got a girl who really loves him,
and that, I think, is a step to happiness."

Every word of this was said by Florence as though with the purpose of
provoking her mother; and so did Mrs. Mountjoy feel it. But behind this
purpose there was that other fixed resolution to get Harry at last
accepted as her husband, and perhaps the means taken were the best. Mrs
Mountjoy was already beginning to feel that there would be nothing for
her but to give up the battle, and to open her motherly arms to Harry
Annesley. Sir Magnus had told her that M. Grascour would probably
prevail. M. Grascour was said to be exactly the man likely to be
effective with such a girl as Florence. That had been the last opinion
expressed by Sir Magnus. But Mrs. Mountjoy had found no comfort in it.
Florence was going to have her own way. Her mother knew that it was so,
and was very unhappy. But she was still anxious to continue a weak,
ineffective battle. "It was very impertinent of him writing," she said.

"When he was going to America for years! Dear mamma, do put yourself in
my place. How was it possible that he should not write?"

"A young man has no business to come and insinuate himself into a family
in that way; and then, when he knows he is not welcome, to open a
correspondence."

"But, mamma, he knows that he is welcome. If he had gone to America
without writing to me--Oh, it would have been impossible! I should have
gone after him."

"No,--no;--never!"

"I am quite in earnest, mamma. But it is no good talking about what
could not have taken place."

"We ought to have prevented you from receiving or sending letters." Here
Mrs. Moun