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Updated: May 2, 2025
Lenorme smiled grimly. "You wouldn't mind, would you, Raoul?" added Florimel, with a roguish look. "Would you mind telling me, Florimel, what you mean by the impropriety of having secrets with another gentleman? Am I the other gentleman?" "Why, of course! You know Liftore imagined he has only to name the day." "And you allow an idiot like that to cherish such a degrading idea of you."
But Florimel's aversion to the idea of marriage, and her horror at the thought of the slightest whisper of what was between her and Lenorme, increased together.
Pictures stood on easels, leaned against chair backs, glowed from the wall each contributing to the atmosphere of solved rainbow that seemed to fill the space. Lenorme was seated not at his easel, but at a grand piano, which stood away, half hidden in a corner, as if it knew itself there on sufferance, with pictures all about the legs of it.
Lenorme sat next to Florimel, and Annie Mair next to Lenorme. On the other side, Mr Graham sat next to Clementina, Miss Horn next to Mr Graham, and Blue Peter next to Miss Horn.
She was afraid to venture another meeting with Lenorme, and besides was not a little shy of the advantage the discovery would give him in pressing her to marry him. And now first she began to feel as if her sins were going to find her out. A day or two passed in alternating psychical flaws and fogs with poor glints of sunshine between.
"If your ladyship never had another true friend, Mr Lenorme is one," added Malcolm. "What opportunity can you have had for knowing?" said Florimel. "I have been sitting to him every morning for a good many days," answered Malcolm. "he is something like a man!" Florimel's face flushed with pleasure. She liked to hear him praised, for he loved her.
She turned at right angles and galloped back to the road. There, on a gaunt thoroughbred, with a furnace of old life in him yet, sat Lenorme, whom she had already passed and signalled to remain thereabout. They drew alongside of each other, but they did not shake hands; they only looked each in the other's eyes, and for a few moments neither spoke.
Nothing could have been more to Malcolm's mind than such a surpassing opportunity of learning with assurance what sort of man Lenorme was; and the relation that arose between them extended the sittings far beyond the number necessary for the object proposed. How the first of them passed I must recount with some detail.
To have repented and become as noble a creature as Lenorme was capable of imagining her not to say as God had designed her, would indeed have been to make up for all he had suffered.
All this time, Florimel was working away at her embroidery, a little smile of satisfaction flickering on her face. She was pleased to hear her clever friend talking so with her strange vassal. As to what they were saying, she had no doubt it was all right, but to her it was not interesting. She was mildly debating with herself whether she should tell her friend about Lenorme.
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