all that
she is a scheming unprincipled intriguer and adventuress, who has never
brought and never will bring good to any house in which she lives. You
may try to get her away to London if you like, but you'll never
succeed."

"I have tried already; I thought that she would be better with me," said
Hubert. "But it was of no use."

"You offered her a home? You are a good fellow, Hubert! You have always
been a good brother to Florence, and I honor you for it," said Miss Vane
heartily.

"Don't say so, aunt Leo; I'm not worth it," said the young man, starting
up and walking two or three paces from her, then returning to her side.
"I only wish that I could do more for her--poor Florence!"

"Poor Florence indeed!" echoed Miss Vane, with tart significance. "But I
must go, Hubert. See her again, and persuade her, if you can, to leave
Beechfield. Don't tell her what I have said to you. She is suspicious
already and will want to know. Did you notice the look she gave me when
I said that I wished to talk to you? Be on your guard."

"I shall not have time to talk with her much. I must go back to London
by the four o'clock train."

"Must you? Well, do your best. See--the blind is drawn up in Marion's
dressing-room--a sign that I am wanted;" and Miss Vane turned towards
the house.

Hubert's anticipations were verified. Florence was not to be persuaded
by anything that he could say. And, when he begged her to tell him why
she wanted so much to stay at Beechfield, and hinted at the reason that
existed in Miss Leonora's mind, Florence only laughed him to scorn. He
was obliged sorrowfully to confess to Miss Vane, when she walked with
him that afternoon before he set out for London, that he had obtained no
information concerning Flossy's plans, and that he could hope to have no
influence over her movements.

He had five minutes to spare, and was urging her to walk with him a
little way along the road that led to the nearest railway-station, when
Miss Vane's attention was arrested by two little figures in the middle
of the road. She stopped short, and pointed to them with her parasol.

"Hubert," she cried, in a voice that was hoarse with dismay, "do you see
that?"

"I see Enid," said Hubert rather wonderingly. "I suppose she ought not
to be here alone; she must have escaped from Florence. Why are you so
alarmed? She is talking to a beggar-child--that is all."

Miss Vane pressed his arm with her hand.

"Are you blind?" she