Partly to put an end to it she left the room as soon as her weakened limbs would support her, and her longing for fresh air led her to wrap herself up on the first sunny day, and stroll languidly up and down the street. The bright, frosty atmosphere braced and revived her. There was even a pale tint of the rose on her cheek as she turned her steps homeward, but she was so fragile-looking that one of the governesses, coming briskly from her daily avocation, stopped, and, after a moment’s hesitation, came and spoke to her with sympathizing kindness. “I am afraid you have been ill, Miss Heriton? We had missed you from the window. Will you accept my arm down the street?” Florence took it as frankly as it was offered. The pale, oval face, the smoothly braided brown hair, and neat gray dress of this gentlewoman irresistibly attracted her. “I have been ill, but I am better, thank you; and it is such a treat to breathe the air once more!” “Cannot you prolong your stroll as far as the park? The walks are dry, and there are seats where you could rest for a few minutes if warmly clothed.” “I should like it much; but papa does not approve of my going there alone,” Florence replied, and her new friend was too delicate to say more. They sauntered together to the door of Mr. Heriton’s lodgings, and then the governess, moved by an impulse of pity for the young creature who seemed so lonely, said: “My name is Denham--Susan Denham. My cousin and I rarely receive any visitors, but we are generally at home on Thursday afternoon, and if you will come and read or work with us we shall be pleased to see you.” Florence pressed her hand warmly. “I shall like it so much. I will be sure to come.” It was not until she was in her own room, taking off her wraps, that she remembered Mr. Heriton’s exordiums against forming any low connections. She timidly mentioned the invitation as they sat together in the evening, adding: “I should much like to go, papa, if you will let me.” He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “You don’t seem to see the drift of this attention, my dear. These governesses would like the name of having finished the education of Miss Heriton, of the priory. If they are really talented women you may engage their services. I have noticed that your Italian is imperfect. I will inquire the price of a piano for you.” Florence wisely raised no objections, but resolved to evade compliance with injunctions that would only involve her in a fresh anxiety. How could she repay the kindness of Miss Denham by asking for lessons for which she knew her father had no means of paying? It was such things as these which made her miserable and wounded her best feelings.