Chapter IV.Florence.
Florence Linden sat in the library the following evening in anattitude of depression. Her eyelids were swollen, and it was evidentshe had been weeping. During the day she had had an interview with heruncle, in which he harshly insisted upon her yielding to his wishes,and marrying her cousin, Curtis.
"But, uncle," she objected, "I do not love him."
"Marry him, and love will come."
"Never!" she said, vehemently.
"You speak confidently, miss," said Mr. Linden, with irritation.
"Listen, Uncle John. It is not alone that I do not love him. I dislikehim--I loathe--him."
"Nonsense! that is a young girl's extravagant nonsense."
"No, uncle."
"There can be no reason for such a foolish dislike. What can you haveagainst him?"
"It is impressed upon me, uncle, that Curtis is a bad man. There issomething false--treacherous--about him."
"Pooh! child! you are more foolish than I thought. I don't say Curtisis an angel. No man is; at least, I never met any such. But he is noworse than the generality of men. In marrying him you will carry outmy cherished wish. Florence, I have not long to live. I shall be gladto see you well established in life before I leave you. As the wife ofCurtis you will have a recognized position. You will go on living inthis house, and the old home will be maintained."
"But why is it necessary for me to marry at all, Uncle John?"
"You will be sure to marry some one. Should I divide my fortunebetween you and Curtis, you would become the prey of some unscrupulousfortune hunter."
"Better that than become the wife of Curtis Waring----"
"I see, you are incorrigible," said her uncle, angrily. "Do you refuseobedience to my wishes?"
"Command me in anything else, Uncle John, and I will obey," pleadedFlorence.
"Indeed! You only thwart me in my cherished wish, but are willing toobey me in unimportant matters. You forget the debt you owe me."
"I forget nothing, dear uncle. I do not forget that, when I was a poorlittle child, helpless and destitute, you took me in your arms, gaveme a home, and have cared for me from that time to this as only aparent could."
"You remember that, then?"
"Yes, uncle. I hope you will not consider me wholly ungrateful."
"It only makes matters worse. You own your obligations, yet refuse tomake the only return I desire. You refuse to comfort me in the closingdays of my life by marrying your cousin."
"Because that so nearly concerns my happiness that no one has a rightto ask me to sacrifice all I hold dear."
"I see you are incorrigible," said John Linden, stormily. "Do you knowwhat will be the consequences?"
"I am prepared for all."
"Then listen! If you persist in balking me, I shall leave the entireestate to Curtis."
"Do with your money as you will, uncle. I have no claim to more than Ihave received."
"You are right there; but that is not all."
Florence fixed upon him a mute look of inquiry.
"I will give you twenty-four hours more to come to your senses. Then,if you persist in your ingratitude and disobedience, you must findanother home."
"Oh, uncle, you do not mean that?" exclaimed Florence, deeply moved.
"I do mean it, and I shall not allow your tears to move me. Notanother word, for I will not hear it. Take twenty-four hours to thinkover what I have said."
Florence bowed her head on her hands, and gave herself up to sorrowfulthoughts. But she was interrupted by the entrance of the servant, whoannounced:
"Mr. Percy de Brabazon."
An effeminate-looking young man, foppishly dressed, followed theservant into the room, and made it impossible for Florence to denyherself, as she wished to do.
"I hope I see you well, Miss Florence," he simpered.
"Thank you, Mr. de Brabazon," said Florence, coldly. "I have a slightheadache."
"I am awfully sorry, I am, upon my word, Miss Florence. My doctortells me it is only those whose bwains are vewy active that aretroubled with headaches."
"Then, I presume, Mr. de Brabazon," said Florence, with intentionalsarcasm, "that you never have a headache."
"Weally, Miss Florence, that is vewy clevah. You will have your joke."
"It was no joke, I assure you, Mr. de Brabazon."
"I--I thought it might be. Didn't I see you at the opewa lastevening?"
"Possibly. I was there."
"I often go to the opewa. It's so--so fashionable, don't you know?"
"Then you don't go to hear the music?"
"Oh, of course, but one can't always be listening to the music, don'tyou know. I had a fwiend with me last evening--an Englishman--acharming fellow, I assure you. He's the second cousin of a lord, andyet--you'll hardly credit it--we're weally vewy intimate. He tells me,Miss Florence, that I'm the perfect image of his cousin, Lord FitzNoodle."
"I am not at all surprised."
"Weally, you are vewy kind, Miss Florence. I thought it a greatcompliment. I don't know how it is, but evewybody takes me for anEnglishman. Strange, isn't it?"
"I am very glad."
"May I ask why, Miss Florence?"
"Because---- Well, perhaps I had better not explain. It seems to giveyou pleasure. You would, probably, prefer to be an Englishman."
"I admit that I have a great admiration for the English character.It's a gweat pity we have no lords in America. Now, if you would onlyallow me to bring my English fwiend here----
"I don't care to make any new acquaintances. Even if I did, I prefermy own countrymen. Don't you like America, Mr. de Brabazon?"
"Oh, of courth, if we only had some lords here."
"We have plenty of flunkeys."
"That's awfully clevah, 'pon my word."
"Is it? I am afraid you are too complimentary. You are verygood-natured."
"I always feel good-natured in your company, Miss Florence. I--wish Icould always be with you."
"Really! Wouldn't that be a trifle monotonous?" asked Florence,sarcastically.
"Not if we were married," said Percy, boldly breaking the ice.
"What do you mean, Mr. de Brabazon?"
"I hope you will excuse me, Miss Florence--Miss Linden, I mean; butI'm awfully in love with you, and have been ever so long--but I neverdared to tell you so. I felt so nervous, don't you know? Will youmarry me? I'll be awfully obliged if you will."
Mr. de Brabazon rather awkwardly slipped from his chair, and sank onone knee before Florence.
"Please arise, Mr. de Brabazon," said Florence, hurriedly. "It isquite out of the question--what you ask--I assure you."
"Ah! I see how it is," said Percy, clasping his hands sadly. "You loveanother."
"Not that I am aware of."
"Then I may still hope?"
"I cannot encourage you, Mr. de Brabazon. My heart is free, but it cannever be yours."
"Then," said Percy, gloomily, "there is only one thing for me to do."
"What is that?"
"I shall go to the Bwooklyn Bwidge, climb to the parapet, jump intothe water, and end my misewable life."
"You had better think twice before adopting such a desperateresolution, Mr. de Brabazon. You will meet others who will be kinderto you than I have been----"
"I can never love another. My heart is broken. Farewell, cruel girl.When you read the papers tomorrow morning, think of the unhappy Percyde Brabazon!"
Mr. de Brabazon folded his arms gloomily, and stalked out of the room.
"If my position were not so sad, I should be tempted to smile," saidFlorence. "Mr. de Brabazon will not do this thing. His emotions are asstrong as those of a butterfly."
After a brief pause Florence seated herself at the table, and drewtoward her writing materials.
"It is I whose heart should be broken!" she murmured; "I who am drivenfrom the only home I have ever known. What can have turned against memy uncle, usually so kind and considerate? It must be that Curtis hasexert
ed a baneful influence upon him. I cannot leave him without oneword of farewell."
She took up a sheet of paper, and wrote, rapidly:
"Dear Uncle: You have told me to leave your house, and I obey. I cannot tell you how sad I feel, when I reflect that I have lost your love, and must go forth among strangers--I know not where. I was but a little girl when you gave me a home. I have grown up in an atmosphere of love, and I have felt very grateful to you for all you have done for me. I have tried to conform to your wishes, and I would obey you in all else--but I cannot marry Curtis; I think I would rather die. Let me still live with you as I have done. I do not care for any part of your money--leave it all to him, if you think best--but give me back my place in your heart. You are angry now, but you will some time pity and forgive your poor Florence, who will never cease to bless and pray for you. Good-bye!
"Florence."
She was about to sign herself Florence Linden, but reflected that shewas no longer entitled to use a name which would seem to carry with ita claim upon her uncle.
The tears fell upon the paper as she was writing, but she heeded themnot. It was the saddest hour of her life. Hitherto she had beenshielded from all sorrow, and secure in the affection of her uncle,had never dreamed that there would come a time when she would feelobliged to leave all behind her, and go out into the world, friendlessand penniless, but poorest of all in the loss of that love which shehad hitherto enjoyed.
After completing the note, Florence let her head fall upon the table,and sobbed herself to sleep.
An hour and a half passed, the servant looked in, but noticing thather mistress was sleeping, contented herself with lowering the gas,but refrained from waking her.
And so she slept on till the French clock upon the mantle struckeleven.
Five minutes later and the door of the room slowly opened, and a boyentered on tiptoe. He was roughly dressed. His figure was manly andvigorous, and despite his stealthy step and suspicious movements hisface was prepossessing.
He started when he saw Florence.
"What, a sleeping gal!" he said to himself. "Tim told me I'd find thecoast clear, but I guess she's sound asleep, and won't hear nothing. Idon't half like this job, but I've got to do as Tim told me. He sayshe's my father, so I s'pose it's all right. All the same, I shall benabbed some day, and then the family'll be disgraced. It's a queerlife I've led ever since I can remember. Sometimes I feel like leavingTim, and settin' up for myself. I wonder how 'twould seem to berespectable."
The boy approached the secretary, and with some tools he had broughtessayed to open it. After a brief delay he succeeded, and lifted thecover. He was about to explore it, according to Tim's directions, whenhe heard a cry of fear, and turning swiftly saw Florence, her eyesdilated with terror, gazing at him.
"Who are you?" she asked in alarm, "and what are you doing there?"
Adrift in New York: Tom and Florence Braving the World Page 4
