Florence Athern's Trial [pp. 213-227]

-Florence At/hern's Trial.
he would support his cause if it
needed it. And how were they to
be answered? Florence paused long
in painful thought on the subject,
but felt too utterly miserable to
come to any conclusion. So the
day passed sadly, and so the night
and the next day. On the third day
Florence felt that some answer must
be given and written before another
night went by, and set herself to her
painful task. Having completed it,
she brought the letter down with her
into the parlor, and sat down to some
pretence of employment that kept
her hands busy, though her mind
was far off. Presently she heard the
galloping of a horse in the lane, and
in a few moments a knock at the
front-door. The blinds were down
over the front windows, so she had
not seen any one pass, and, rising,
she tried to make her escape before
the visitor was admitted. But she
was too late. As she opened the
parlor door, the front-door was
opened from without by her uncle,
and slhe stood face to face with Arthur Hinsdale. The hearty greeting
he had met with from Mr. Lee had
reassured the young man, and he
was not prepared for the frightened
look and deadly pallor that overspread Florence's face when she saw
him. She stepped back into the
parlor, and held out her hand with
a desperate attempt to smile. Arthur took the hand and pressed it to
his lips. Mr. Lee had closed the
parlor door, and she was alone with
him. With a desperate effort she
commanded her voice enough to
make some commonplace remark
about his journey, signing him to
a chair, while she seated herself.
"I ventured to come, although I
had received no answer to my letter.
Did you receive it?"
Florence inclined her head.
"Then you knew the reason of my
coming?"
Again Florence bowed, but could
not speak.
"Miss Athern, was not my letter
plain enough-do you not believe
me? I do not understand your silence."
"Your-your letter was fully understood, Mr. Hinsdale, and I thank-"
"You thank me, Florence!"
Then in earnest language he told
her how he loved her, and how his
fear that his letter had not reached
her had brought him there, preferring
the pain of a double refusal to the
doubt in which he must have awaited
her reply by post. To all this Florence listened with head bent down
and hands clasped; and when he
paused for a reply, she pointed to the
letter lying on the table. He took it
up and walked to the window; a
painful silence followed, broken only
by the rustling of the paper in his
hands. When he had finished reading, he came to her side, and leaning
over her said:
"Am I to receive this as your
answer?"
"Yes!" said Florence in a whisper.
"A final and decisive answer?"
"Yes!"
"Then pardon me, Miss Athern,
that I allowed my heart to read your
conduct as I hoped it was meant, not
as you really meant it. I gave you
credit for a nobler heart than you
possess. Let me tell you the truth,
thou,lgh what I say seems a reproach,
that offer would never have been
made had I not felt assured, by your
treatment of me, that it would be
accepted."
Florence started, and the eloquent
blood rushed to her very temples.
"Mr. Hinsdale, you have no right
to speak thus to me!"
She attempted to draw her hands
from his grasp, but could not.
"No right!-well, perhaps I have
not. Forgive me, Florence, and only
remember that I love you."
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