“Go home, my love, go home! Indeed you shall not think of such a thing,” exclaimed Lady Severn. “You, my dear Florence, shall not be allowed to suffer for that foolish boy’s mad infatuation. He forgets, I think, all that is in my power. But you, my dear, must not dream of leaving me till you do so for a home of your own.” Not so bad for Florence after all! It was the first time she had succeeded in obtaining from Lady Severn a distinct invitation to take up her quarters permanently in her household, and she took care by her vehement expressions of gratitude to clench the proposal, which in a calmer moment the old lady might not have been in quite such a hurry to make. It was not very cordially that Lady Severn bade adieu to her son that evening as, accompanied by Miss Vyse, she drove off to an elegant entertainment given by Mr. Chepstow in the gardens of his pretty little villa a couple of miles out of Altes. Sir Ralph was to leave very early the next morning, and therefore thought it expedient to make his farewells overnight. He thought himself very fortunate in that, his farewells not being confined to the ladies of his own household, Mr. Chepstow’s entertainment left him free to spend the rest of the evening as he chose. But it was no easy task he had set before him. Far from it, for to tell the truth, he had by no means made up his mind as to what it consisted in. He was as determined as ever, in no way to allow Marion to commit herself to any promise, till he felt that he had a better right to ask such from her. On the other hand, the thought of leaving Altes even for a few days, without some greater assurance (than that of Frank Berwick’s communication) of the true state of the young girl’s feelings towards him, was unendurable. Still more repugnant to him was the thought of the strange and unfavourable light in which his own conduct must appear to her, were no sort of explanation to take place between them; the worst of all, he could not bear to go away haunted by the remembrance of her pale face and anxious eyes, telling of suffering and disappointment of which he was both the object and the cause. He must say something, however little. That was all that he could make up his mind to. What it should be, or how it should be said, circumstances must decide. He wondered, as in the cool or the evening he walked to Mrs. Archer’s, how he should find them.