"O, he wants to be off to his hermitage!" laughed Rufus, coarsely; "let
him go. You will stay, won't you, Florence?"

"If Edith invites me," returned she.

"Well, I do," said Edith quickly.

"Then the point is settled," remarked Florence.

"Good-night to you all," said Edgar, moving hastily toward the door.

Scarce ten minutes had elapsed, after his departure, when Florence rose
and said, "Now I am going."

"Why, you just promised to remain all night," said Rufus, in a tone of
undisguised disappointment.

"No," said she; "I made no promise, and I am going."

"Then I'll go with you," returned Rufus, seizing his hat.

"No," said Col. Malcome, suddenly entering the apartment. "With Miss
Howard's consent, I'll be her escort home to-night."

Florence said she should be honored by his company. So bidding
good-night to Edith and Rufus, she took his proffered arm and descended
to the street.

"How have you enjoyed the ball to-night?" inquired he, as they walked on
together.

"Very well," answered she, briefly.

"This young Lindenwood, that burrows with the strange chap they call the
'Hermit of the Cedars;' you are acquainted with him, I believe."

"He has attended school at the seminary, since I commenced to go,"
answered Florence, as calmly as she was able.

"He has been paying Edith some attentions of late," continued the
colonel, in a careless tone; "do you suppose he really cares for her?"

"I don't know," answered Florence; and her voice trembled in spite of
her efforts to steady it.

"Of course you don't know," the colonel went on, still in that cold,
indifferent tone; "I merely asked what you thought?"

"I never thought anything about it in my life," said Florence, in a
choking voice.

"That's rather strange," returned he. "I have thought of it several
times lately;--but here we are at your father's gate. Present my
regards, and say I would be happy to receive a call from him whenever he
is so disposed."

Florence bowed good-evening to her gallant, and hurried to her own
apartment.

The night was warm. A waning moon lighted the eastern terrace, and, not
feeling disposed to sleep, she stepped through a window that opened to
the floor, and, leaning against a pillar, stood silently gazing over the
gardens and grounds below.

She had not been standing long thus when she beheld the figure of a man
moving slowly along the gravelled walks, pausing frequently and fixing
an earnest gaze on the windo