e, but why? What more do you wish? Do I not seem
wretched enough?"

"It is your father who has made you thus miserable!" said Jameson, in
a low but bitter voice, for he feared the proud man in the next room,
and dared not speak of him aloud. Florence scarcely heeded him, she
sat gazing on the floor lost in thought, painful and harrowing. Still
there was an apparent apathy about her that reassured the bad man who
stood by suffering all the agony of a wild animal baffled in fight. He
would not believe that so short a time had deprived him of a love so
passionate, so self-sacrificing as had absorbed that young being not
three days before.

Throwing a tone of passionate tenderness into his voice, he approached
her, this time unchecked.

"Florence, dear Florence, must we part thus; will you send me from you
for ever?"

Florence, was very weak and faint, she felt by the thrill that went
through her heart like some sharp instrument, as the sound of his
passionate entreaty fell upon it, that, spite of herself, she might be
made powerless in his hands were the interview to proceed. The thought
filled her with dread. She started up, and tottering a step or two
from the sofa, cried out, "Father! father!"

Mr. Hurst lifted his head from where he had buried it in his folded
arms, as if to shield his senses from what might be passing within the
other room, and starting to his feet, was instantly by his daughter's
side.

"What is this!" he said, throwing his arm around the half fainting
girl, and turning sternly toward her tormentor, "have you dared--"

"No, no!" gasped Florence. "I was ill--I--oh, father, without you I
have no strength. Save me from myself!"

"I will," said Mr. Hurst, gently and with great tenderness drawing the
trembling young creature close to his bosom.

"I see how it is, she is influenced only by you, sir. I am promised an
interview, and left to believe that the lady shall decide for herself,
yet even the very first words I utter are broken in upon. I know that
this woman loves me."

"No, no, I love him not! I did a little hour ago, but now I am
changed--do you not see how I am changed?" cried Florence, lifting her
head wildly, and turning her pale face full upon her miscreant
husband. "Do you not know that your presence is killing me?"

"I will go," said Jameson, touched by the wild agony of her look and
voice; "I will go now, but only with your promise, Mr. Hurst, that
when she is more composed,