She had not the least idea that Michael Reid cared for Florence. She had, it is true, observed his attentions to her on Christmas Eve, but had not given them any serious thought. The young man was an acknowledged flirt, and was fond of the society of all pretty girls; and what pretty girl at Langdale could compare with Florence? That she had taken a walk with him on the following day had scarcely aroused any suspicions. The young people were old friends. Florence would make a great match some day. So beautiful, so rich, so well-born--what had she not to give a husband? Poor Michael Reid would indeed be a silly man if he fell in love with a girl like Florence. The visit, therefore, of Major Reid did not in the least connect itself with Florence in Mrs Fortescue's mind. She was up in her bedroom rearranging some of her drawers; for she was a very busy, active little woman, who kept her place in immaculate order and never was a moment unemployed. She was so engaged when Bridget came to inform her that Major Reid would like to see her in the drawing-room. "Dear, dear!" thought Mrs Fortescue. "What does the man want?" She said aloud to Bridget-- "Go down to the Major; give him my compliments, and say that I will be with him in a moment." She then proceeded to put on a clean collar and a fresh and becoming tie of cherry-coloured ribbon at her throat. Her dress was dark brown. She looked a very neat and comely little person when she entered the Major's presence. The Major, however, had no special eye for Mrs Fortescue's comeliness. He looked rather excited. He was holding his stick in his hand as though he did not wish to part with it, and when he stood up, it was with considerable difficulty that Mrs Fortescue could get him to sit down again. "Dear, dear!" he said. "Dear, dear! I don't know how to apologise for coming to you at such an hour before lunch. I do hope you will forgive me." Here he deliberately paced from the door to the mantelpiece. The room was small, and he accomplished the distance in a couple of strides; but his whole manner was so confused and _distrait_ that Mrs Fortescue wondered if the good man had taken leave of his senses and was about to propose to her. She was, however, thoroughly sensible and practical; and, knowing that the Major had certainly no money wherewith to support a second wife, turned her mind from the subject and endeavoured to set him at his ease. "Do sit down," she said. "Do you know--I am sorry to have to say it-- but it fidgets me dreadfully to see people pacing about my drawing-room." The Major dropped in the nearest chair as though he had been shot. "May I take your stick from you?" said Mrs Fortescue. He resigned it with the expression of one who was about to suffer martyrdom.