Florence had but one source of regret. She enjoyed her work, and did not now lament the luxurious home which she had lost. But she did feel sore at heart that her uncle made no sign of regret for their separation. From him she received no message of forgiveness or reconciliation. "He has forgotten me!" she said to herself, bitterly. "He has cast me utterly out of his heart. I do not care for his money, but I do not like to think that my kind uncle--for he was always kind till the last trouble--has steeled his heart against me forever." But she learned through a chance meeting with Jane, that this was not so. "Mr. Linden is getting very nervous and low-spirited," said the girl, "and sits hour after hour in the library looking into the fire, a-fotchin' deep sighs every few minutes. Once I saw him with your photograph--the one you had taken last spring--in his hands, and he looked sad-like when he laid it down." "My dear uncle! Then he does think of me sometimes?" "It's my belief he'd send for you if Curtis would let him." "Surely Curtis cannot exercise any restraint upon him?" "He has frequent talks with the old gentleman. I don't know what he says, but it's sure to be something wicked. I expect he does all he can to set him against you. Oh, he's a cunning villain, he is, even if he is your cousin, Miss Florence." "And do you think my uncle is unhappy, Jane?" said Florence, thoughtfully. "That I do, miss." "He never was very bright or cheerful, you know." "But he never was like this. And I do think he's gettin' more and more feeble." "Do you think I ought to call upon him, and risk his sending me away?" "It might be worth tryin', Miss Florence." The result of this conversation was that Florence did make up her mind the very next afternoon to seek her old home. She had just reached the