Her cheek flushed, but without a reply she left the room, and
descended the steps which led to Madame ----'s parlor. Reaching the
door, she drew herself proudly up, then knocked.

"Come in," was the response.

She did so. In the center of the apartment, with an open book on the
table before him, sat the teacher who officiated at prayers. He rose
and bowed coldly in answer to her salutation.

"Pardon my intrusion, Mr. Stewart. I expected to find Madame here."

"She has gone to spend the morning with an invalid sister, and
requested me to take charge of her classes, in addition to my own. If
I can render you any assistance, Miss Hamilton, I am at your service."

"Thank you, I am in need of no assistance, and merely wished to say to
Madame that I should leave New Orleans to-morrow, having heard from my
father that he will be here in the evening boat."

"I will inform her of your intended departure as early as possible."

"You will oblige me by doing so," replied Florence, turning to go.

"Miss Hamilton, may I ask you if your cousin accompanies you?"

"She does," was the laconic answer, and slowly she retraced her steps,
and stood at her own door. The cheeks had become colorless, and the
delicate lips writhed with pain. She paused a moment, then entered.