She knew that Harry Annesley was at the door. He had written to say that he must come again, though he had fixed no day for his coming. She had been delighted to think that he should come, though she had after her fashion, scolded him for the promised visit. But, though his comings had not been frequent, she recognized already the sounds of his advent. When a girl really loves her lover, the very atmosphere tells of his whereabouts. She was expecting him with almost breathless expectation when her cousin Mountjoy was brought to her; and so was her mother, who had been told that Harry Annesley had business on which he intended to call. But now the two foes must meet in her presence. That was the idea which first came upon her. She was sure that Harry would behave well. Why should not a favored lover on such occasions always behave well? But how would Mountjoy conduct himself when brought face to face with his rival? As Florence thought of it, she remembered that when last they met the quarrel between them had been outrageous. And Mountjoy had been the sinner, while Harry had been made to bear the punishment of the sin.

Harry, when he was told that Miss Mountjoy was at home, had at once walked in and opened for himself the door of the front room downstairs. There he found Florence and Mountjoy Scarborough. Mrs. Mountjoy was still up-stairs in her bedroom, and was palpitating with fear as she thought of the anger of the two combative lovers. To her belief, Harry was, of the two, the most like to a roaring lion, because she had heard of him that he had roared so dreadfully on that former occasion. But she did not instantly go down, detained in her bedroom by the eagerness of her fear, and by the necessity of resolving how she would behave when she got there.

Harry, when he entered, stood a moment at the door, and then, hurrying across the room, offered Scarborough his hand. "I have been so sorry," he said, "to hear of your loss; but your father\'s health was such that you could not have expected that his life should be prolonged." Mountjoy muttered something, but his mutterings, as Florence had observed, were made in courtesy. And the two men had taken each other by the hand; after that they could hardly fly at each other\'s throats in her presence. Then Harry crossed to Florence and took her hand. "I never get a line from you," he said, laughing, "but what you scold me. I think I escape better when I am present; so here I am."

"You always make wicked propositions, and of course I scold you. A girl has to go on scolding till she\'s married, and then it\'s her turn to get it."

"No wonder, then, that you talk of three years so glibly. I want to be able to scold you."

All this was going on in Mountjoy\'s presence, while he stood by, silent, black, and scowling. His position was very difficult,—that of hearing the billing and cooing of these lovers. But theirs also was not too easy, which made the billing and cooing necessary in his presence. Each had to seem to be natural, but the billing and cooing were in truth affected. Had he not been there, would they not have been in each other\'s arms? and would not she have made him the proudest man in England by a loving kiss? "I was asking Miss Mountjoy, when you came in, to be my wife." This Scarborough said with a loud voice, looking Harry full in the face.

"It cannot be," said Florence; "I told you that, for his honor,"—and she laid her hand on Harry\'s arm,—"I could listen to no such request."

"The request has to be made again," he said.

"It will be made in vain," said Harry.

"So, no doubt, you think," said Captain Scarborough.

"You can ask herself," said Harry.

"Of course it will be made in vain," said Florence. "Does he think that a girl, in such a matter as that of loving a man, can be turned here and there at a moment\'s notice,—that she can say yes and no alternately to two men? It is impossible. Harry Annesley has chosen me, and I am infinitely happy in his choice." Here Harry made an attempt to get his arm round her waist, in which, however, she prevented him, seeing the angry passion rising in her cousin\'s eyes. "He is to be my husband, I hope. I have told him that I love him, and I tell you so also. He has my promise, and I cannot take it back without perjury to him, and ruin, absolute ruin, to myself. All my happiness in this world depends on him. He is to me my own one absolute master, to whom I have given myself altogether, as far as this world goes. Even were he to reject me I could not give myself to another."

"My Florence! my darling!" Harry exclaimed.

"After having told you so much, can you ask your cousin to be untrue to her word and to her heart, and to become your wife when her heart is utterly within his keeping? Mountjoy, it is impossible."

"What of me, then?" he said.

"Rouse yourself and love some other girl and marry her, and so do well with yourself and with your property."

"You talk of your heart," he said, "and you bid me use my own after such fashion as that!"

"A man\'s heart can be changed, but not a woman\'s. His love is but one thing among many."

"It is the one thing," said Harry. Then the door opened, and Mrs. Mountjoy entered the room.

"Oh dear! oh dear!" she said, "you, both of you, here together?"

"Yes: we are both here together," said Harry.

There was an unfortunate smile on his face as he said so, which made Mountjoy Scarborough very angry. The two men were both handsome, two as handsome men as you shall see on a summer\'s day. Mountjoy was dark-visaged, with coal-black whiskers and mustaches, with sparkling, angry eyes, and every feature of his face well cut and finely formed; but there was absent from him all look of contentment or satisfaction. Harry was light-haired, with long, silken beard, and bright eyes; but there was usually present to his face a look of infinite joy, which was comfortable to all beholders. If not strong, as was the other man\'s, it was happy and eloquent of good temper. But in one thing they were alike:—neither of them counted aught on his good looks. Mountjoy had attempted to domineer by his bad temper, and had failed; but Harry, without any attempt at domineering, always doubting of himself till he had been assured of success by her lips, had succeeded. Now he was very proud of his success; but he was proud of her, and not of himself.

"You come in here and boast of what you have done in my presence," said Mountjoy Scarborough.

"How can I not seem to boast when she tells me that she loves me?" said Harry.

"For God\'s sake, do not quarrel here!" said Mrs. Mountjoy.

"They shall not quarrel at all," said Florence, "There is no cause for quarrelling. When a girl has given herself away there should be an end of it. No man who knows that she has done so should speak to her again in the way of love. I will leave you now; but, Harry, you must come again, in order that I may tell you that you must not have it all your own way, just as you please, sir." Then she gave him her hand, and passing on at once to Mountjoy, tendered her hand to him also. "You are my cousin, and the head now of my mother\'s family. I would fain know that you would say a kind word to me, and bid me \'God speed.\'"

He looked at her, but did not take her hand. "I cannot do it," he said. "I cannot bid you \'God speed.\' You have ruined me, trampled upon me, destroyed me. I am not angry with him," and he pointed across the room to Harry Annesley; "nor with you; but only with myself." Then, without speaking a word to his aunt, he marched out of the room and left the house, closing the front-door after him with a loud noise, which testified to his anger.

"He has gone!" said Mrs. Mountjoy, with a tone of deep tragedy.

"It is better so," said Florence.

"A man must take his chance in such warfare as this," said Harry. "There is something about Mountjoy Scarborough that, after all, I like. I do not love Augustus, but, with certain faults, Mountjoy is a good fellow."

"He is the head of our family," said Mrs. Mountjoy, "and is the owner of Tretton."

"That is nothing to do with it," said Florence.

"It has much to do with it," said her mother, "though you would never listen to me. I had set my heart upon it, but you have determined to thwart me. And yet there was a time when you preferred him to every one else."

"Never!" said Florence, with energy.

"Yes, you did,—before Mr. Annesley here came in the way."

"It was before I came, at any rate," said Harry.

"I was young, and I did not wish to be disobedient. But I never loved him, and I never told him so. Now it is out of the question."

"He will never come back again," said Mrs. Mountjoy, mournfully.

"I should be very glad to see him back when I and Florence are man and wife. I don\'t care how soon we should see him."

"No; he will never come back,............