"'Flossie!' he exclaimed; 'what are you about, and what is this you have hitched to me?'

"You see the umbrella was still hooked to his coat collar and flopping itself open.

"'If you will stand still I will show you what it is,' I said, laughing till I cried at the comical appearance he presented, with the passers-by looking on wonderingly.

"I do not think he liked it very well. No one likes to be made ridiculous; but we were soon walking together very amicably, and he was telling me where he had been, and that he was now on his way to Trevellian Castle.

"'I have not seen you, Flossie,' he said--and I wish you could have heard how sadly and low he spoke--'I have not seen you since Bessie died in Rome. You were with her, I believe?'

"'Bessie died in Rome!' I exclaimed. 'What do you mean? Bessie did not die in Rome. She is not dead at all. She has gone to America in the same ship with Grey Jerrold.'

"He stopped more suddenly than he did when I hooked him with the umbrella, and turning toward me, asked me if I was telling him the truth. Then we walked on as far as the Champs d'Elysees, where we sat down, and I told him everything which had happened at Rome, and after we left there, as far as I knew. But I doubt if he heard half I was saying. The only point he did seem to understand was that you were not dead, and that you had gone to America in the same ship with Mr. Jerrold. It was Neil who had told me that, and to him I referred Jack for any further information concerning you. But I do not think he stopped to get it, for he went straight through London to Trevellian Castle, where his presence was needed. And then, after a time he invited grandma and me to visit him there, because he was lonely without any ladies in the house. And we went, and I was perfectly happy; for, you know, it was once my home, and it is going to be--But wait till I tell you how Jack is changed, and how he used to go away by himself, and stay for hours alone, and come back with such a tired look on his face, and ask me to tell him again of Mr. Jerrold's kindness to you in Rome. Grandma said he was in love with you, and I think so, too. But wait till I tell you how he came home from London after seeing you there as Mrs. Jerrold, and how he raved about your beauty, and grace, and elegance, and the lovely dress you wore the night he called, blue he said he believed it was, and he wanted me to have one like it, as if what became your lilies and roses would suit my black face and turned-up Irish nose. But men know nothing of color, or anything else, at least Jack does not, as you will see when I tell you, if I ever come to that.




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