w that it is to him that your faithful services are due,
not to Florence?"

"I'm faithful to both, Mr. Waring."

"You are aware that my uncle is justly displeased with my cousin?"

"I know he's displeased, but I am sure he has no good reason to be."

Curtis Waring bit his lips. The girl, servant as she was, seemed to be
openly defying him. His imperious temper could ill brook this.

"Take care!" he said, with a frown. "You seem to be lacking in respect
to me. You don't appear to understand my position in this house."

"Oh, yes, I do. I know you have schemed to get my poor young mistress
out of the house, and have succeeded."

"I have a great mind to discharge you, girl," said Curtis, with
lowering brow.

"I am not your servant, sir. You have nothing to do with me."

"You will see whether I have or not. I will let you remain for a time,
as it is your attachment to Miss Florence that has made you forget
yourself. You will find that it is for your interest to treat me
respectfully."

A feeble step was heard at the door, and John Linden entered the
breakfast-room. His face was sad, and he heaved a sigh as he glanced
mechanically at the head of the table, where Florence usually sat.

Curtis Waring sprang to his feet, and placing himself at his uncle's
side, led him to his seat.

"How do you feel this morning, uncle?" he asked, with feigned
solicitude.

"Ill, Curtis. I didn't sleep well last night."

"I don't wonder, sir. You had much to try you."

"Is--is Florence here?"

"No, sir," answered Jane, promptly. "She left the house an hour ago."

A look of pain appeared on John Linden's pale face.

"Did--did she leave a message for me?" he asked, slowly.

"She asked me to bid you good-by for her," answered Jane, quickly.

"Uncle, don't let yourself be disturbed now with painful thoughts. Eat
your breakfast first, and then we will speak of Florence."

John Linden ate a very light breakfast. He seemed to have lost his
appetite and merely toyed with his food.

When he arose from the table, Curtis supported him to the library.

"It is very painful to me--this conduct of Florence's, Curtis," he
said, as he sank into his armchair.

"I understand it fully, uncle," said Curtis. "When I think of it, it
makes me very angry with the misguided girl."

"Perhaps I have been too harsh--too stern!"

"You, uncle, too harsh! Why, you are the soul of gentleness. Florence
has shown herself very ungrateful."

"Yet, C