Part 50 (2/2)
”Maurice Trevor is a pauper,” she said, ”not worth any girl's serious consideration. Marry Mr. Franks, my dear Florence; he is not up to much, but doubtless he is the best you can get. You need not show the smallest respect to Susan Aylmer; the wedding need not be put off a single hour on her account.”
Nor did Flo nor Tom intend to postpone the wedding. Mrs. Aylmer had not been loved by Florence, and, as the couple were to be married quietly, there was not the least occasion why the ceremony should be delayed.
Florence had not a trousseau, in the ordinary sense of the word.
”I have no money,” she said, looking full at Edith.
Tom Franks happened to come into the room at the time.
”What are you talking about?” he said. ”By the way, here is a letter for you.”
As he spoke, he laid a letter on the table near Florence's side. She glanced at it, saw that it was in the handwriting of Bertha Keys, and did not give it a further thought.
”Flo is thinking about her trousseau; all brides require trousseaux,”
said Edith, who, although unorthodox in most things, did not think it seemly that a bride should go to the altar without fine clothes.
”But why should we worry about a trousseau?” replied Tom. ”I take Florence for what she is, not for her dress; and I can give you things in Paris,” he added, looking at her. ”I have some peculiar ideas, and my own notions with regard to your future dress. You want a good deal of rich colour, and rich stuffs, and nothing too girlish. You are very young, but you will look still younger if you are dressed somewhat old, as I mean to dress you. We will get your evening dress in Paris. I am not a rich man, but I have saved up money for the purpose.”
”I don't really care about clothes at all,” said Florence.
”I know that; but you will change your mind. With your particular style, you must be careful how you dress. I will manage it. Don't waste your money on anything now. I want you to come to me as you are.”
Tom then sat down near Florence, and began to give her particulars with regard to several flats which he had looked over. He was a keen man of business, and talked . _s._ _d._ until the girl was tired of the subject.
”I shall take the flat in Fortescue Mansions to-morrow morning,” he said finally; ”it will just suit us. There is a very fine reception-room, and, what is still better, all the reception-rooms open one into the other. We must begin to give our weekly salons as soon as ever you return from your wedding tour, Florence.”
”Surely you will wait until people call on Florence?” interrupted Edith.
”You are too quick, Tom, for anything. You must not transgress all the ordinary rules of society.”
Tom looked at his sister, shut up his firm lips, and turned away; he did not even vouchsafe to answer.
A moment later, he left the room. It was his custom when he met Florence to kiss her coldly on the forehead, and to repeat this ceremony when he left her. He did not neglect this little attention on the present occasion. As his steps, in his patent-leather boots, were heard descending the stairs, Edith saw Florence raise her handkerchief to her forehead and rub the spot which Tom's lips had touched.
”How heartily you dislike him!” said Edith. ”I would not marry him if I were you.”
Florence made no reply. She took up her letter and prepared to leave the room.
”Why do you go? There is a good fire here, and there is none in your room. Sit by the fire, and make yourself comfy. I am going out for a little.”
CHAPTER XLIV.
BERTHA CHANGES HER TONE.
Edith pinned on her hat as she spoke, and a moment later left the flat.
Florence looked around her. She sank into an easy-chair, and opened the letter. It was, as she already knew, from Bertha. She began to read it languidly, but soon its contents caused her to start; her eyes grew bright with a strange mixture of fear, relief, and apprehension. Bertha had written as follows:--
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