than he was to go. She said "she should do very well without him,--she
always mended as summer approached, and Florence was drooping from long
and close confinement. She needed exercise and change of scene, and it
was his duty to do all in his power to restore her to health and
cheerfulness." Major Howard felt the only obstacle removed by the
invalid's assent and hearty cooeperation; so Florence was informed of the
project, and preparations immediately commenced for her tour.

It was a pleasant April evening as she sat in her luxurious apartment
with her journal open before her. "The last of these bright spring
evenings that I am to pass at home is closing in around me," she wrote.
"My trunks are packed and closed down, and to-morrow I am to start on a
tour of travel. How my long torpid bosom bounds at the thought! I shall
sail up that picturesque Hudson! I shall look on glorious Niagara! But I
fear my anticipations are too brilliant. Something will occur to dreg my
expected draught of happiness with sorrow. Thus it has ever been! Too
well I know I shall return to become the bride of one I detest; but I
will not let that thought embitter my enjoyment of the wonders and
beauties I shall behold. Besides, in so long a time as I shall be
absent, what may occur? Ah, I have written words that make me shudder! I
fear I may return to find the snows covering my mother's grave. Why do I
leave her? Is it not selfishness to allow her to urge me away when it is
her own generous care and affection for me which prompt her to do so?
There is something strange in the way she speaks of my matrimonial
engagement. I am sure it does not meet her approval, though she gave her
consent, as she always does to everything upon which father sets his
mind. She evidently dreads its consummation, perhaps because she has
discovered my aversion for the man I am to marry. As to Hannah Doliver,
she is wonderfully mollified toward me of late; but her fawning fondness
is more intolerable than her asperity and impertinence. Nothing seems to
delight her so much as to behold Rufus Malcome in company with me. I
caught her watching at the parlor-door this evening when he called in
company with his father to leave his adieus. She accompanied them to the
door and remained several minutes in conversation in the hall. I found
her in the kitchen a short time after, and she was muttering to herself
and slamming things about in a great rage. When she discovered me she