“And you are an orphan like myself?”

“I am.”

“That is what drew us together.  And may I know your name?”

“Florence Vernon.  And I was attracted to you the first time I saw you.”

“I cannot tell you how glad I am to experience these proofs of human ties.  It is a pleasure to me to think that wherever we go we shall meet some one who loves us.  I am a dependent character, as you no doubt have perceived.  I need the assurance and support of stronger minds even when I see my own way clear.  Some there are who can see and go forth.  I need to be led.”

“I hope you are fortunate enough to have some stronger mind about you.  We are not all alike, and the vine nature must have something upon which it may cling and find support, or otherwise it will trail in the dust.”

“I am not thus fortunate.  I have no one on whom to lean, or to whom I can look for guidance.  Shall you remain long here?” she asked, fearing she had spoken too freely of herself.

“We shall stay until we have received all that this atmosphere and these scenes can supply us with.  It will then be our duty to go.”

“I like that.  I must go away very soon to join my aunt who is obliged to remain among the mountains, as the sea air does not agree with her.  But look, Miss Vernon, here comes Mr. Wyman and another gentleman!” and she seemed greatly disappointed at the interruption.

“Miss Weston, Mr. Deane,” said Florence, introducing them, and the next instant she watched with earnest gaze the look of admiration which he gave the timid girl.  It was not a bold or intrusive look, but such an one as a man might have bestowed were he suddenly ushered into the presence of his highest conception of female worth and loveliness.

Every line of his features betokened the keenest admiration, while her glance was far over the sea.  Hugh saw the look, too, and was glad.

Miss Vernon trembled, she knew not why.  She wished that he had not come to the sea-shore, and that the beautiful stranger was all her own.

The four walked together on the beach, until the heat of the day, and then Miss Weston withdrew.

“The finest face I ever saw,” said Mr. Deane, watching her figure till she was out of sight, “and as lovely in soul as in form and features, I perceive.”  Then turning to Miss Vernon, he said: 

“I see you harmonize.  I am really glad it is so, for you can help each other very much.”

Mr. Deane dropped the conversation, and assumed an air of abstraction, his gaze fixed on the blue waves-his thoughts none knew where.

Hugh and Florence walked to the house and seated themselves in the shade, within view of the sea.  Then he told her in his clear, brief way, of what had transpired between Mr. Deane and his wife, with the remark that it was far better she should be informed of the true state of affairs, and thus be guarded against the evil of false reports.