The Time of Roses. Meade L. T.

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СКАЧАТЬ she added impulsively: "I am sorry I have seen her again; I never could bear her face. Do you think her eyes were set quite straight in her head, Florence?"

      "I don't know anything about that," answered Florence recklessly. "Long ago she did me a great deal of harm. There came a time when I almost hated her. Whether her eyes are straight or not, her mind at least is crooked. Who is that man she is with?"

      "He is good-looking and looks nice also," said Kitty.

      Florence made no reply. The girls paced up and down together; but somehow the edge of the day's enjoyment seemed gone. They went in to their midday meal between twelve and one, and afterwards Kitty, who said she felt a little tired, went to lie down. Florence, however, was still restless and perturbed; she hated the thought of the vicinity of Bertha Keys, and yet she had a curious longing to know something about her.

      "I am not going to fight shy of her or to show her that I am in the least afraid of her," thought Florence; "I can make myself much more disagreeable to her and much more dangerous than she can ever make herself to me. I wonder where she is staying?"

      Mrs. Aylmer proposed that she and her daughter should spend the afternoon on the sands.

      "Let us visit the shrimp-woman and get some fresh shrimps and perhaps a crab or a lobster for supper," said the little Mummy, holding out a bait which would have quite won the day in the old times. But Florence had outgrown her taste for these special dainties.

      "I want to go out alone, Mummy," she said; "you and I and Kitty can have a walk after tea, but just for the present I must be alone." She pinned on her hat, put on her gloves, and left the cottage.

      Mrs. Aylmer stood in the porch and watched her.

      "A good girl, a fairly good-looking girl too," she said to herself, "but obstinate, obstinate as a mule. Even that trouble of long ago has not tamed her. She is the image of her poor dear father; he always was a man with a desperate will of his own."

      Miss Aylmer watched Florence until she disappeared in the direction of the pier. There was a bench there, and a girl was seated on it. She wore a pink dress of some washing material and a large black shady hat. Florence came nearer and nearer. The girl, who was reading a book, dropped it and gazed in her direction. Presently Florence found herself within less than two hundred yards from the place where the other girl was seated. At this moment the girl flung down her book, uttered a hasty exclamation, and came forward.

      "Is it or is it not Florence Aylmer?" she said. She held out both her hands, uttering a little cry of apparent pleasure.

      Florence did not notice the outstretched hands. She came up to her.

      "I have come on purpose," she said; "I knew you were here. What are you doing here?"

      "Why should I tell you what I am doing?" replied Bertha. Her eyes slightly contracted, she pushed her hair away from her forehead, then she looked full at Florence and uttered a laugh. "What is the good of quarrelling?" she said. "We have met. I am in the running; you are out of it. I am up and you are down. My prospects are first-rate, yours – "

      "What do you mean? How can you tell anything about my prospects? Why do you trouble me? Why did you come to meet me just now?"

      "Speak the truth," said Miss Keys; "were you not coming on purpose to see me?"

      Florence was silent for a moment.

      "I recognised you this morning," she said, "and I was restless to know why you were here."

      "Ah, curiosity, you are Eve's own daughter," said Bertha Keys, with a laugh. "Well, now that we have met, we may as well talk the thing out. Can you deny that you are down and I am up?"

      "I neither deny nor affirm your statement," replied Florence. "I have never heard of you – I have never mentioned your name since that dreadful day at Cherry Court six years ago."

      "Six years this autumn – not quite six years yet," replied Bertha, correcting her. "Yes, I too remember the day," she said thoughtfully. "It seemed a bad day for me, and yet it was a good one. I have feathered my nest. You stepped out of it and I stepped in. Do you understand?"

      "I don't."

      "You have grown a good deal, Florence Aylmer," said Bertha, looking her all over. "You are what would be called a fine young woman. If you had had the advantages of a refined life, of very good dress, you might, now that you are grown up, command almost any future. As it is" – she shrugged her shoulders.

      "What is the matter with my dress?" said Florence; "you always were queer and rude, Bertha, and time has not improved you."

      "You cannot say that I am badly dressed," said Bertha Keys, and she glanced at her exquisitely-cut pink zephyr skirt, her pretty blouse, and her neat shoes.

      Florence also eyed her all over.

      "You are well got up," she said; "but what of that? Your face never changes."

      "Thank you for the compliment," replied Bertha; "I cannot say that you are well got up, and your face, if it has changed, is not more beautiful than it promised to be."

      "Pray leave my face alone; it belongs to me, not to you," retorted Florence, with some spirit.

      "Do you want to know what I am doing now: how I am managing to live?" said Bertha.

      "You can tell me if you please; if you prefer not to say anything, it does not matter in the least."

      "But it does matter; it matters a good deal," replied Bertha. "You did something very silly long ago. You thought to succeed, but you failed. It was not my fault. I did what I could for you. If I was clever then, I am still more clever now. I have a gift of writing, but I need not wear my brain out thinking of curious essays and well-devised stories and clever plots. I am working at my own story, and I think it will come off well."

      "But what do you mean? Where are you?"

      "We are staying at the 'Crown and Garter' for the present."

      "We?" said Florence, in a questioning tone.

      "Yes; how stupid you are! Have not you guessed! Mrs. Aylmer, Mr. Trevor, and I."

      "You don't mean it?" said Florence, springing to her feet. "Aunt Susan! Are you staying with her?"

      "Yes, and I fancy I am indispensable to her. I have lived with her for nearly six years. I manage her affairs; I write her letters; I attend to her business; she consults me about everything. She goes where I like; she does what I want. The nest is comfortable. It was meant for you, but it fits me. Now perhaps you know."

      "And Mr. – Mr. Trevor?" said Florence, in a trembling voice.

      "Oh, he fits me too. He is a very good fellow, very nice indeed. He thinks I am quite an angel; he admires my talent, as he calls it. I believe he would be very sad if I were not there; he is much more likely to go than I am. Yes, Florence, you did well for me when you lost that Scholarship. I thought I would tell you."

      "Oh! oh!" said Florence, trembling and turning pale; "but if Aunt Susan knew! If she knew!"

      "Yes, if she knew," said Bertha, "but she does not know, and of course you won't tell her."

      "You think I won't; but – but Mummy will."

      "I don't think so. It would be much worse for yourselves if you did. I СКАЧАТЬ