“O Ernest!” she murmured; “O my love, my darling!”
Just then Florence came down, looking cool and composed, and giving that idea of quiet strength which is the natural attribute of some women.
Eva pushed the letter into her bosom.
“What is the matter, Eva?” said Florence, quietly, noting her flushed face, “and why have you upset the tea?”
“Matter!” she answered, laughing happily—she had not laughed so for months; “O, nothing—I have heard from Ernest, that is all.”
“Indeed!” answered her sister, with a troubled smile on her dark face; “and what has our runaway to say for himself?”
“Say! O, he has a great deal to say, and I have something to say too. I am going to marry him.”
“Indeed! And Mr. Plowden?”
Eva turned pale.
“Mr. Plowden! I have done with Mr. Plowden.”
“Indeed!” said Flo
