The Time of Roses Part 22

"Not surely to Mrs. Trevor, of Rose View?" exclaimed Edith Franks, starting back a step and raising her brows as she spoke.

"Yes."

"And do you know her son, that most charming fellow, Maurice Trevor?"

"I know him slightly."

"Oh, but this is really delightful. We have been friends with the Trevors, Tom and I, ever since we were children. This seems to be quite a new turn to our friendship, does it not?"

Florence felt herself both cold and stiff. She longed to be friendly with Edith, who was, she was well aware, all that was kind; nevertheless, a strange sensation of depression and of coming trouble was over her.

"She is kind; but she may tempt me to do what is wrong," thought poor Florence.

"I don't know the Trevors well," she answered. "I have met Mr. Trevor once or twice, but I have never even seen his mother. His mother has been kind enough to ask me to spend to-day with her. I will say good-bye now."

"Be sure you give my love to dear Mrs. Trevor, and remember me to Maurice. Tell him, with my kind regards, that I commiserate him very much."

"Why so?" asked Florence.

"Because he has had the bad luck to be adopted by a rich, eccentric old lady, and he will lose all his personality. Tell him I wouldn't be in his shoes for anything, and now ta! ta! I see you are dying to be off."

Edith went back to her room, and Florence ran downstairs, entered an omnibus which would convey her the greater part of the way to Hampstead, and arrived there a little before ten o'clock. As she was walking up the little path to the Trevors' cottage, Maurice Trevor came down to meet her.

"How do you do?" he said, shaking hands with her and taking her immediately into the house.

Mrs. Trevor was standing in the porch.

"This is Miss Aylmer, mother," said the young man.

Mrs. Trevor held out her hand, looked earnestly into Florence's face, then drew her towards her and kissed her.

"I am glad to see you, my dear," she said; "my son has told me about you. Welcome to Rose View; I hope you like the place."

Florence looked around her and gave an exclamation of surprise and delight. The house was a very small one, but it stood in a perfect bower of roses: they were climbing all over the house, and blooming in the garden: there were standard roses, yellow, white, and pink, moss-roses, the old-fashioned cabbage-rose, and Scotch roses, little white and red ones.

"I never saw anything like it," said Florence, forgetting herself in her astonishment and delight.

Mrs. Trevor watched her face.

"She is a nice girl, but she has some trouble behind," thought the widow to herself.

"We will go round the garden," she said; "it is not time for church yet.

I am not able to go this morning, but Maurice will take you presently.

You have just to cross the heath and you can go to a dear little church, quite in the depths of the country. I never need change of air here in my rose-bower. But come: what roses shall I pick for you?"

"I must give Miss Aylmer her flowers, as she is practically my guest,"

said Trevor, coming forward at that moment. He picked a moss-rose bud and a few Scotch roses, made them into a posy, and gave them to Florence. She placed the flowers in her belt; her cheeks were already bright with colour, and her eyes were dewy with happiness. She bent down several times to sniff the fragrance of the flowers. Mrs. Trevor drew her out to talk, and soon she was chatting and laughing, and looked like a girl who had not a care in the world.

"I never saw anything so sweet," she said. "How have you managed to make all these roses bloom at once?"

"I study roses; they are my specialty. I think roses are the great joy of my life," said Mrs. Trevor. But as she spoke she glanced at her stalwart, handsome son, and Florence guessed that he was his mother's idol, and wondered how she could part with him to Mrs. Aylmer.

"The church bells are beginning to ring," he said suddenly; "would you like to go to church or would you rather just wander about the heath?"

"I think I would rather stay on the heath this morning," said Florence.

She coloured as she spoke. "I do not feel very churchy," she added.

"All right: we'll have our service out of doors then; we'll be back, mother, in time for lunch."

CHAPTER XXI.

AN AWKWARD POSITION.

Trevor raised the latch of the gate as he spoke, and Florence and he went out into what the girl afterwards called an enchanted world.

Florence during that walk was light-hearted as a lark and forgot all her cares.

Trevor made himself a very agreeable companion. He had from the first felt a great sympathy for Florence. He was not at that time in love with her, but he did think her a specially attractive girl, and, believing that she was sorrowful, and also having a sort of latent feeling that he himself was doing her an injury by being Mrs. Aylmer's heir, he was more attentive to her and more sympathetic in his manner than he would otherwise have been.

They found a shady dell on the heath where they sat and talked of many things. It was not until it was nearly time to return home, and they saw the people coming away from the little church down in the vale, that Trevor looked at his companion and said abruptly: "I do wish you and the mother could live together. Do you think it could be managed?"

"I don't know," said Florence, starting; "for some things I should like it."

"I cannot tell you," he continued, flushing slightly as he spoke, "what a great satisfaction it would be to me. I must be frank with you. I always feel that I have done you a great injury."

"You certainly have not done me an injury; you have added to the pleasure of my life," said Florence.

"I do not suppose we shall see a great deal of each other, and I often wonder why. If I am to be Mrs. Aylmer's heir I shall have to spend most of my life with her; but then, so long as you are in the world, I ought not to hold that position."

"Oh, never mind about that," said Florence.

"She is your aunt?"

"She is my aunt by marriage. It does not matter. We don't get on together. She--she never wishes to see me nor to hear of me."

"But I wonder why; it seems very hard on you. You and your mother are poor, whilst I am no relation. Why should I usurp your place--in fact, be your supplanter?"

"You are not. If you did not have the money, someone else would. I should never be my aunt's heiress."

"And yet she knows you?"

"She did know me."

"Did you ever do anything to offend her?"

"I am afraid I did."