Florence's face clouded with humiliation at the reminder.

"Moreover," said Larcher, "you won't be holding communication. The
matter has come to my knowledge fairly enough, through Edna's lucky
forgetfulness. I take it on myself to tell Davenport. I'm to meet him
to-morrow, anyhow--it looks as though it had all been ordained. I really
don't see how you can prevent me, Miss Kenby."

Florence's face threw off its cloud, and her conscience its scruples, and
a look of gratitude and relief, almost of sudden happiness, appeared.

"You are so good, both of you. There's nothing in the world I'd rather
have than to see him made happy."

"If you'd like to see it with your own eyes," said Larcher, "let me send
him to you for the news."

"Oh, no! I don't mean that. He mustn't know where to find me. If he came
to see me, I don't know what father would do. I've been so afraid of
meeting him by chance; or of his finding out I was in New York."

Larcher understood now why Edna had prohibited his mentioning the Kenbys
to anybody. "Well," said he, "in that case, Murray Davenport shall be
made happy by me at about one o'clock to-morrow afternoon."

"And you shall come to tea afterward and tell us all about it," cried
Edna. "Flo, you _must_ be here for the news, if I have to go in a hansom
and kidnap you." "I think I can come voluntarily," said Florence, smiling
through her tears.