FullReads

“They don’t like me because I am plainly dressed and because my father is not a wealthy man,” thought Florrie bitterly. And there was enough truth in this in regard to many of Miss Braxton’s girls to make a very uncomfortable state of affairs.

“Here’s a letter for you, Flo,” said her brother Jack at noon. “Got it at the office on my way home. Who is your swell correspondent?”

Florrie opened the dainty, perfumed note and read it with a face that, puzzled at first, suddenly grew radiant.

“Listen, Jack,” she said excitedly.

“Dear Florrie:

“Nan is confined to house, room, and sofa with a
sprained foot. As she will be all alone this
afternoon, won’t you come down and spend it with
her? She very much wants you to come–she is so
lonesome and thinks you will be just the one
to cheer her up.

“Yours cordially,
“Maude Wallace.”

“Are you going?” asked Jack.

“Yes–I don’t know–I’ll think about it,” said Florrie absently. Then she hurried upstairs to her room.

“Shall I go?” she thought. “Yes, I will. I dare say Nan has asked me just out of pity because I was not invited to the picnic. But even so it was sweet of her. I’ve always thought I would like those Wallace girls if I could get really acquainted with them. They’ve always been nice to me, too–I don’t know why I am always so tongue-tied and stupid with them. But I’ll go anyway.”

That afternoon Mrs. Wallace came into Nan’s room.

“Nan, dear, Florrie Hamilton is downstairs asking for you.”

“Florrie–Hamilton?”

“Yes. She said something about a note you sent her this morning. Shall I ask her to come up?”

“Yes, of course,” said Nan lamely. When her mother had gone out she fell back on her pillows and thought rapidly.

“Florrie Hamilton! Maude must have addressed that note to her by mistake. But she mustn’t know it was a mistake–mustn’t suspect it. Oh, dear! What shall I ever find to talk to her about? She is so quiet and shy.”

Further reflections were cut short by Florrie’s entrance. Nan held out her hand with a chummy smile.

“It’s good of you to give your afternoon up to visiting a cranky invalid,” she said heartily. “You don’t know how lonesome I’ve been since Maude went away. Take off your hat and pick out the nicest chair you can find, and let’s be comfy.”

Somehow, Nan’s frank greeting did away with Florrie’s embarrassment and made her feel at home. She sat down in Maude’s rocker, then, glancing over to a vase filled with roses, her eyes kindled with pleasure. Seeing this, Nan said, “Aren’t they lovely? We Wallaces are very fond of our climbing roses. Our great-grandmother brought the roots out from England with her sixty years ago, and they grow nowhere else in this country.”

“I know,” said Florrie, with a smile. “I recognized them as soon as I came into the room. They are the same kind of roses as those which grow about Grandmother Hamilton’s house in England. I used to love them so.”

“In England! Were you ever in England?”

“Oh, yes,” laughed Florrie. “And I’ve been in pretty nearly every other country upon earth–every one that a ship could get to, at least.”

“Why, Florrie Hamilton! Are you in earnest?”

“Indeed, yes. Perhaps you don’t know that our ‘now-mother,’ as Jack says sometimes, is Father’s second wife. My own mother died when I was a baby, and my aunt, who had no children of her own, took me to bring up. Her husband was a sea-captain, and she always went on his sea-voyages with him. So I went too. I almost grew up on shipboard. We had delightful times. I never went to school. Auntie had been a teacher before her marriage, and she taught me. Two years ago, when I was fourteen, Father married again, and then he wanted me to go home to him and Jack and our new mother. So I did, although at first I was very sorry to leave Auntie and the dear old ship and all our lovely wanderings.”