Such promises were certainly enough to pin a lover’s faith to, and Florian did not doubt her after that; he only adored her more deeply, and longed for the time of return, chafing in secret most bitterly against the fate that kept him from her side. So months passed away until the winter was over, and in March Mr. Gay’s long illness ended in death, and his son was free. It was a blessed release from severe pain suffered long, and the loving ones who had watched by him so fondly were resigned to the affliction, because they knew he had entered into rest at last. Arrangements were made to convey his body to his native land for interment, and Florian’s heart leaped with joy at the thought of seeing his love again, and claiming the fulfillment of her sweet promises. Of late Viola’s letters had been few and far between, and marked by a growing coldness that sent a chill to his warm heart, especially the last one, in which she said: “I shall have something very important to tell you in my next letter.” If Florian could have guessed what that important something was, it would almost have broken his true, loving heart; but before the next letter came he was on the ocean, _en route_ for home, whither we will precede him in the gratification of our curiosity. CHAPTER VIII. HEART STRUGGLES. Philip Desha had a will as firm as iron when he made up his mind, and he carried out to the letter his plan for avoiding beautiful Viola, and breaking his heart loose from her chains. Besides, his pride had been stimulated by a caution Mrs. Wellford had given him the very day of the skating-party, and shortly before the accident: “Don’t carry out the simile of the moth, Cousin Phil, and singe your wings in the candle’s flame.” Her glance at Viola pointed the remark, and he flushed warmly as he answered: “Have no fear for me.” Mrs. Wellford, who was a very charming young woman, continued gravely: “She is wonderfully fascinating, and I do not mind confessing that I love her dearly. To me she appears a thoughtless child, almost innocent of intentional wrong-doing, but the fact remains that she has given pain to many true, loving hearts by encouraging their suits only to reject them at the last, after leading them on with all the tactics of the most finished coquette. I have even heard it said that she intends to have a hundred rejections to boast of before she marries.” “She will never add my name to the list,” he replied, bitterly. “Do not be too sure. She can be irresistible when she chooses, the little siren!” she exclaimed; and just then some one joined them, and no more was said on the subject. But Philip Desha understood that his cousin’s pride was enlisted lest Miss Van Lew should have the triumph of adding him to the list of her victims. “It shall never be,” he said to himself, passionately, and held his course resolutely, keeping away from every place where he was likely to meet the little beauty.