“Florence!” he said.

“Mountjoy!  We hardly expected you here so soon.”

“Where the heart strays the body is apt to follow.  I could speak to no one, I could do nothing, I could hope and pray for nothing till I had seen you.”

“You cannot depend on me like that?” she answered.

“I do depend on you most entirely.  No human being can depend more thoroughly on another.  It is not my fortune that I have come to offer you, or simply my love, but in very truth my soul.”

“Mountjoy, that is wicked!”

“Then wicked let it be.  It is true.  Tretton, by singular circumstances, is all my own, free of debt.  At any rate, I and others believe it to be so.”

“Tretton being all your own can make no difference.”

“I told you that I had not come to offer you my fortune.”  And he almost scowled at her as he spoke.  “You know what my career has hitherto been, though you do not perhaps know what has driven me to it.  Shall I go back, and live after the same fashion, and let Tretton go to the dogs?  It will be so unless you take me and Tretton into your hands.”

“It cannot be.”

“Oh, Florence! think of it before you pronounce my doom.”

“It cannot be.  I love you well as my cousin, and for your sake I love Tretton also.  I would suffer much to save you, if any suffering on my part would be of avail.  But it cannot be in that fashion.”  Then he scowled again at her.  “Mountjoy, you frighten me by your hard looks;—­but though you were to kill me you cannot change me.  I am the promised wife of Harry Annesley; and for his honor I must bid you plead this cause no more.”  Then, just at this moment there was a ring at the bell and a knock at the door, each of them somewhat impetuous, and Florence Mountjoy, jumping up with a start, knew that Harry Annesley was there.

CHAPTER LXI.

HARRY ANNESLEY IS ACCEPTED.

She knew that Harry Annesley was at the door.  He had written to say that he must come again, though he had fixed no day for his coming.  She had been delighted to think that he should come, though she had after her fashion, scolded him for the promised visit.  But, though his comings had not been frequent, she recognized already the sounds of his advent.  When a girl really loves her lover, the very atmosphere tells of his whereabouts.  She was expecting him with almost breathless expectation when her cousin Mountjoy was brought to her; and so was her mother, who had been told that Harry Annesley had business on which he intended to call.  But now the two foes must meet in her presence.  That was the idea which first came upon her.  She was sure that Harry would behave well.  Why should not a favored lover on such occasions always behave well?  But how would Mountjoy conduct himself when brought face to face with his rival?  As Florence thought of it, she remembered that when last they met the quarrel between them had been outrageous.  And Mountjoy had been the sinner, while Harry had been made to bear the punishment of the sin.