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The poor man, however, lost patience, and, finally, giving it up in despair, went off to sea. "I've been too hard on him," remarked the widow, sadly, to her sister Flo, after he was gone. "You have," was Flo's comforting reply, as she rose to serve a clamorous customer of the Holly Tree.
Circumstances may alter matters, and until a girl has been really led to the altar I never consider this sort of thing final. Ah! whose step is that on the stairs? I believe it is my Flo's." Mrs. Aylmer tripped to the door, flung it open, and stood in an expectant attitude. The next moment Florence, accompanied by Tom Franks, appeared. Mrs.
Their hilarity was dissipated suddenly, and grave looks were bestowed on Eddie's digits, until Flo's little voice arose like a strain of sweet music to dissipate the clouds. "Oh! never mind," she said; "I's got anuzzer pot in my bag." This had been forgotten. The fact was verified by swift examination, and felicity was restored.
"Such absurd reticence may be fatal to Mr. Jones' interests." He made no reply to this and after reflection she tried again. "What is the nearest land to Sangoa?" "Toerdal," said he. "What is that, an island?" "Yes." "Is it on the maps? Is it charted?" "No, Miss." She silenced Flo's aggravating giggle with a frown.
A queer-looking individual was slouching along with ax over his shoulder. "There's Charley," said Flo. "He'll show you." Then she whispered: "He's sort of dotty sometimes. A horse kicked him once. But mostly he's sensible." At Flo's call the fellow halted with a grin.
Immediately there was a scream and a roar, and a splashing about of skirts and petticoats, and by the time that Mrs. Fenwick was on the bank, Mary Lowther had extricated herself, and had triumphantly brought out Flo's treasure with her. "Mary, are you hurt?" said her friend. "What should hurt me? Oh dear, oh dear! I never fell into a river before. My darling Flo, don't be unhappy.
There were warm colors, some comfortable rockers, a lamp that shed a bright light, and an open fire which alone would have dispelled the raw gloom of the day. A large man in corduroys and top boots advanced to meet Carley. He had a clean-shaven face that might have been hard and stern but for his smile, and one look into his eyes revealed their resemblance to Flo's.
He made lots of trouble, but there wasn't no gun-play. Mebbe thet made him sore, so he went an' licked Flo's brother-in-law. Thet wasn't so bad. Jack sure needed a good lickin'. Wal, then Gene met Danny an' tried to get Danny drunk. An' he couldn't! What do you think of that? Danny hedn't been drinkin' wouldn't touch a drop. I'm sure glad of thet, but it's amazin' strange.
But never until the evening of his return had he seriously faced the problem as to Forrest for a son-in-law. Only once or twice had he vaguely asked himself if there was danger of Flo's falling in love with him.
And after Flo's repeated efforts, assisted by chastisement from Glenn, had kept Spillbeans in a trot for a couple of miles Carley began to discover that the trotting of a horse was the most uncomfortable motion possible to imagine. It grew worse. It became painful. It gradually got unendurable. But pride made Carley endure it until suddenly she thought she had been stabbed in the side.
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