Florence had put on her very prettiest frock, and Florence's prettiest frock was one to wonder at, for it was made by a dressmaker who was also an artist; it was somewhat the colour of an autumn leaf--seeming to shade away from her dear and radiant complexion; and her sunny brown hair seeming to add to the glories in her brown eyes (oh, how brown they were this morning!), and to bring out the bewitching sparkles of her face. When Michael entered the room, Florence ran up to him joyfully. "So you have come!" she said. "I was expecting you. Sit down, won't you? How are you, Michael?" She looked at him with a certain pathos in her pretty eyes. He came eagerly to her. He could not help himself. He forgot, just for a minute or two, that she was a penniless girl; she looked so radiant, so different from anybody else. "Oh, Florence!" he said. She clasped both his hands, holding them tightly and standing close to him. "I know, dear," she said, "I know you are sorry for me. But I am not one to be sorry for myself: I am not really, Mike. You have heard, of course, that Brenda and I, instead of being rich, are poor. But that doesn't matter. At first I thought perhaps it did a little. I knew, of course, darling, it would never matter with you after what you said. You remember what you said, don't you, Mike?" "What--what was it?" said the young man. "That you would love me all the same, and marry me all the same if I were as poor as--as a church mouse? Do you know that at the time I absolutely knew that I was as poor as a church mouse?" "And you never told me?" he said, trying to let go her hands and yet feeling attracted by her as he had never been attracted before. "I was not allowed to," she answered. "Mr Timmins had enjoined Brenda and me not to breathe a word of it to any one until he thought it best that the secret should be known." "Everybody knows it now--my father and every one," said Michael; and his voice was very gloomy. "But it doesn't matter a scrap," she answered. "You don't think I mind? Why, you know in some ways it makes it far more exciting; and I will tell you one of the ways, Michael. It makes me so sure and certain that you love me, not for my money, but for myself. It would be perfectly awful for a girl to marry a man just because he liked her money and did not care for herself." Michael Reid winced. "But you are not like that, darling, and if you want me--why, here--here I am. I made up my mind fully a day or two ago. It is all right; I am quite willing to be poor with you. I know we can't be married for a little, but that doesn't matter. I am going to work ever so hard: we'll both work, won't we, darling Michael? We'll do our very best, and I know we'll win in the end. I don't mind being engaged at all, even if it's for a long time." "Florence," said Michael. He dropped his hands to his sides and looked full at the girl.