the
excitement of laughter and conversation.

Rufus sought his affianced bride at every opportunity; and the only
place where she could rest secure from his interruptions was the
apartment of her mother, where he never ventured to intrude, being
possessed of a strange fear and dread of sick people. He never visited
Edith, unless compelled to do so by his father.

Florence was one day sitting in the deep recess of one of the
drawing-room windows, with the massy folds of purple damask drooped
before her, occupied in the perusal of a book of poems, when a
succession of low, murmuring sounds near by, disturbed her, and
listening a moment she heard Col. Malcome say, in a smothered tone,
"There's no fear of detection; all moves on bravely, and we shall have a
blooming young bride here in a few weeks."

Then there was a low, chuckling laugh, which Florence recognized as
Hannah Doliver's. After a while the woman spoke in a stifled voice,
"Don't you want to see _her_?" she said. "I should think you would."
There was a slight malice in her tone, which appeared to irritate him
somewhat.

"I can wait very well till the ceremony is performed," he answered at
length. "Of course, she will appear at the marriage of her daughter." A
strange emphasis on the last word.

"But come," he added directly, "we must not linger here. Some of the
family may observe us."

Thus speaking, they passed out of the apartment, relieving Florence of
the fear with which she had been shaking during their whole conversation
lest they should discover her retreat in the window.

When they were gone, she clasped her hands, and exclaimed in a low, but
fervent tone, "Will no arm save me from the power into which I have
fallen?"

For several days she sought an opportunity to speak privately with her
father, but his attention was so incessantly occupied by Col. Malcome,
that none presented.

When at last she gained his ear, he laughed her suspicions to scorn, and
bade her never come to him with such an idle tale again.

The good-natured major was infatuated by, what he termed, the munificent
magnanimity of Col. Malcome, and, moreover, had been nurtured in
luxurious tastes, and the prospect of reinstating himself in an elegant
home by so easy a process as the marriage of his daughter, was too
desirable to be allowed to vanish lightly away.

CHAPTER XLII.

"And they dare blame her! they whose every thought