Miss Hill, and he waits self-effacingly while that young lady vivaciously
greets Florence as her dearest, and while she bestows a touch of her
gloved fingers and a "How d'ye do, Mr. Kenby," on the father. She then
introduces the young man as Mr. Larcher, on whose face, as he bows, there
appears a surprised admiration of Florence Kenby's beauty.

Miss Hill monopolizes Florence, however, and Larcher is left to wander to
the fire, and take a pose there, and discuss the weather with Mr. Kenby,
who does not seem to find the subject, or Larcher himself, at all
interesting, a fact which the young man is not slow in divining. Strained
relations immediately ensue between the two gentlemen.

As soon as the young ladies are over the preliminary burst of compliments
and news, Edna says:

"I'm lucky to find you at home, but really you oughtn't to be moping in
a dark place like this, such a fine afternoon."

"Father can't go out because of his rheumatism, and I stay to keep him
company," replies Florence.

"Oh, dear me, Mr. Kenby," says Edna, looking at the gentleman rather
skeptically, as if she knew him of old and suspected a habit of
exaggerating his ailments, "can't you pass the time reading or
something? Florence _must_ go out every day; she'll ruin her looks if
she doesn't,--her health, too. I should think you could manage to
entertain yourself alone an hour or two."

"It isn't that," explains Florence; "he often wants little things done,
and it's painful for him to move about. In a house like this, the