So the interview was ended; but Mrs. Mountjoy was left greatly in doubt as to what she might best do.  She felt sure that were Annesley to come to Brussels, Florence would see him,—­would see him in spite of all that her uncle and aunt, and Mr. Anderson, and M. Grascour could do to prevent it.  That reprobate young man would force his way into the embassy, or Florence would force her way out.  In either case there would be a terrible scene.  But if she were to take Florence back to Cheltenham, interviews to any extent would be arranged for her at the house of Mrs. Armitage.  As she thought of all this, the idea came across her that when a young girl is determined to be married nothing can prevent it.

Florence in the mean time wrote an immediate answer to her lover, as follows: 

“DEAR HARRY,—­Of course you were entitled to write when there was something to be said which it was necessary that I should know.  When you have simply to say that you love me, I know that well enough without any farther telling.

“Go to America for three years!  It is very, very serious.  But of course you must know best, and I shall not attempt to interfere.  What are three years to you and me?  If we were rich people, of course we should not wait; but as we are poor, of course we must act as do other people who are poor.  I have about four hundred a year; and it is for you to say how far that may be sufficient.  If you think so, you will not find that I shall want more.

“But there is one thing necessary before you start.  I must see you.  There is no reason on earth for our remaining here, except that mamma has not made up her mind.  If she will consent to go back before you start, it will be best so.  Otherwise, you must take the trouble to come here,—­where, I am afraid, you will not be received as a welcome guest.  I have told mamma that if I cannot see you here in a manner that is becoming, I shall go out and meet you in the streets, in a manner that is unbecoming.

“Your affectionate—­wife that is to be,

“FLORENCE MOUNTJOY.”

This letter she took to her mother, and read aloud to her in her own room.  Mrs. Mountjoy could only implore that it might not be sent, but prevailed not at all.  “There is not a word in it about love,” said Florence.  “It is simply a matter of business, and as such I must send it.  I do not suppose my uncle will go to the length of attempting to lock me up.  He would, I think, find it difficult to do so.”  There was a look in Florence’s face as she said this which altogether silenced her mother.  She did not think that Sir Magnus would consent to lock Florence up, and she did think that were he to attempt to do so he would find the task very difficult.

CHAPTER XLVI.

M. GRASCOUR.