lover, instead of--Sir Adrian!"

It costs her an effort to utter these words, but the effect produced by
them is worth the effort.

Florence, growing deadly pale, releases her hair from her cousin's
grasp, and rises quickly to her feet.

"I don't know who your gossips may be," she says slowly; "but they are
wrong--quite wrong--do you hear? My dislike to Mr. Dynecourt arises from
very different feelings. He is distasteful to me in many ways; but, as I
am undesirous that my manner should give occasion for surmises such as
you have just mentioned to me, I will give him an opportunity of
reciting his part to me, alone, as soon as ever he wishes."

"I think you are right, dearest," responds Mrs. Talbot sweetly. She is
a little afraid of her cousin, but still maintains her position bravely.
"It is always a mark of folly to defy public opinion. Do not wait for
him to ask you again to go through your play with him alone, but tell
him yourself to-morrow that you will meet him for that purpose in the
north gallery some time during the day."

"Very well," says Florence; but her face still betrays dislike and
disinclination to the course recommended. "And, Dora, I don't think I
want my hair brushed any more, thanks; my head is aching so dreadfully."

This is a hint that she will be glad of Mrs. Talbot's speedy departure;
and, that lady taking the hint, Florence is soon left to her own
thoughts.