Produced by Al Haines. [Illustration: Dust cover art] [Illustration: Cover art] [Illustration: "How are you feeling to-day?" said Flora.] *FLORA* BY A. L. O. E. (Charlotte Maria Tucker) THOMAS NELSON AND SONS, LTD. LONDON, EDINBURGH, AND NEW YORK PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN AT THE PRESS OF THE PUBLISHERS. *CONTENTS.* I. Town and country II. The village III. Confession IV. The rajah’s dream V. Secret influences VI. The nursery VII. The touchstone VIII. Pleasures and pains IX. The novel X. Recall XI. Doubts XII. Decision XIII. The mother’s trial XIV. The visit XV. The wife XVI. Rising clouds XVII. Darkening clouds XVIII. The dark journey XIX. Conclusion *LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.* "How are you feeling to-day?" said Flora . . . Frontispiece Slowly, very slowly, she descended from the carriage She threw herself on her mother’s bosom "Flora, my love, has anything occurred to distress you?" said the baronet *FLORA; OR, SELF-DECEPTION.* *CHAPTER I.* *TOWN AND COUNTRY.* "Well, there certainly is a charm in the country!" exclaimed Ada Murray, as, with the assistance of the hand of her companion, she sprang lightly down from a stile on the soft daisy-spangled grass beneath. "The charm of _novelty_, I suppose," replied Flora. "Well, I am afraid that I must plead guilty to knowing very little more of rural life than I have gathered from, ’Let me Wander not Unseen.’ Ever since I came down here I have been looking out for the shepherds telling tales ’under the hawthorn,’ and the village maidens dancing to the sound of the rebeck; but no livelier piece of gaiety can I hear of than a feast to the school-children in a field! I suppose that you could not have archery here?" she added, suddenly, as the thought crossed her mind. "Oh yes; we have an old bow and some arrows at home, that belonged to my brother." "Oh, that’s not what I mean," replied Ada, laughing; "bows and arrows do not make an archery-meeting, they are a mere excuse for drawing people together. But you don’t seem to have any neighbours?" "How can you say so?" cried Flora, playfully, pointing to a village on their right, nestling amidst elm-trees, above which the spire of a little church gleamed in the evening sun. "You will not understand me, you malicious little thing! You don’t call visiting old women and sickly children, and questioning a prim class of tidy girls in a school-room, seeing anything of society? Have you no neighbours in your own rank of life within ten miles round?"