as very earnest
in her look, and the look was intently and thoughtfully fixed upon her
face.

'I--I--am used to be alone,' said Florence. 'I don't mind it at all. Di
and I pass whole days together, sometimes.' Florence might have said,
whole weeks and months.

'Is Di your maid, love?'

'My dog, Mama,' said Florence, laughing. 'Susan is my maid.'

'And these are your rooms,' said Edith, looking round. 'I was not shown
these rooms the other day. We must have them improved, Florence. They
shall be made the prettiest in the house.'

'If I might change them, Mama,' returned Florence; 'there is one
upstairs I should like much better.'

'Is this not high enough, dear girl?' asked Edith, smiling.

'The other was my brother's room,' said Florence, 'and I am very fond of
it. I would have spoken to Papa about it when I came home, and found the
workmen here, and everything changing; but--'

Florence dropped her eyes, lest the same look should make her falter
again.

'but I was afraid it might distress him; and as you said you would be
here again soon, Mama, and are the mistress of everything, I determined
to take courage and ask you.'

Edith sat looking at her, with her brilliant eyes intent upon her face,
until Florence raising her own, she, in her turn, withdrew her gaze, and
turned it on the ground. It was then that Florence thought how different
this lady's beauty was, from what she had supposed. She had thought it
of a proud and lofty kind; yet her manner was so subdued and gentle,
that if she had been of Florence's own age and character, it scarcely
could have invited confidence more.

Except when a constrained and singular reserve crept over her; and then
she seemed (but Florence hardly understood this, though she could not
choose but notice it, and think about it) as if she were humbled before
Florence, and ill at ease. When she had said that she was not her Mama
yet, and when Florence had called her the mistress of everything there,
this change in her was quick and startling; and now, while the eyes of
Florence rested on her face, she sat as though she would have shrunk and
hidden from her, rather than as one about to love and cherish her, in
right of such a near connexion.

She gave Florence her ready promise, about her new room, and said she
would give directions about it herself. She then asked some questions
concerning poor Paul; and when they had sat in conversation for some
time, told Florence she had