and a quarter of a “no,” and would mean just the same thing.  He did not doubt but that she had engaged herself to Harry Annesley; nor did he doubt that she had been brought to Brussels to break off that engagement; and he thought it most probable that her friends would prevail.  Under these circumstances, why should he despair?—­or why, rather, as he was a man not given to despair, should he not think that there was for him a reasonable chance of success?  He must show himself to be devoted, true, and not easily repressed.

She had used, he did not doubt, the same sort of language in silencing Anderson.  Mr. Anderson had accepted her words, but he knew too well the value of words coming from a young lady’s mouth to take them at their true meaning.  He had at this interview affected a certain amount of intimacy with Florence of which he thought that he appreciated the value.  She had told him that she would kill him,—­of course in joke; and a joke from a girl on such an occasion was worth much.  No Belgian girl would have joked.  But then he was anxious to marry Florence because Florence was English.  Therefore, when he went back to his own home he directed that the system of the high polish should be continued with his boots.

“I don’t suppose he will come again,” Florence had said to her mother, misunderstanding the character of her latest lover quite as widely as he misunderstood hers.  But M. Grascour, though he did not absolutely renew his offer at once, gave it to be understood that he did not at all withdraw from the contest.  He obtained permission from Lady Mountjoy to be constantly at the Embassy, and succeeded even in obtaining a promise of support from Sir Magnus.  “You’re quite up a tree,” Sir Magnus had said to his Secretary of Legation.  “It’s clear she won’t look at you.”

“I have pledged myself to abstain,” said poor Anderson, in a tone which seemed to confess that all chance was over with him.

“I suppose she must marry some one, and I don’t see why Grascour should not have as good a chance as another.”  Anderson had stalked away, brooding over the injustice of his position, and declaring to himself that this Belgian should never be allowed to marry Florence Mountjoy in peace.

But M. Grascour continued his attentions; and this it was which had induced Florence to tell her mother that the Belgian was “a great trouble,” which ought to be avoided by a return to England.

CHAPTER XLVII.

FLORENCE BIDS FAREWELL TO HER LOVERS.

“Mamma, had you not better take me back to Cheltenham at once?”

“Has that unfortunate young man written to you?”

“Yes.  The young man whom you call unfortunate has written.  Of course I cannot agree to have him so called.  And, to tell the truth, I don’t think he is so very unfortunate.  He has got a girl who really loves him, and that, I think, is a step to happiness.”