"Now I see that I've been saying something to vex you, my darling," and
seating herself beside the young girl on the sofa, she fondly took down
her hands. "Do tell me what it was. Was it about your teachers falling
in love with you? You know they did, Florida: Pestachiavi and Schulze,
both; and that horrid old Fleuron."

"Did you think I liked any better on that account to have you talk it
over with a stranger?" asked Florida, still angrily.

"That's true, my dear," said Mrs. Vervain, penitently. "But if it
worried you, why didn't you do something to stop me? Give me a hint, or
just a little knock, somewhere?"

"No, mother; I'd rather not. Then you'd have come out with the whole
thing, to prove that you were right. It's better to let it go," said
Florida with a fierce laugh, half sob. "But it's strange that you can't
remember how such things torment me."

"I suppose it's my weak health, dear," answered the mother. "I didn't
use to be so. But now I don't really seem to have the strength to be
sensible. I know it's silly as well as you. The talk just seems to keep
going on of itself,--slipping out, slipping out. But you needn't mind.
Mr. Ferris won't think you could ever have done anything out of the
way. I'm sure you don't act with _him_ as if you'd ever encouraged
anybody. I think you're too haughty with him, Florida. And now, his
flowers."

"He's detestable. He's conceited and presuming beyond all endurance. I
don't care what he thinks of me. But it's his manner towards you that I