THE LITTLE MUMMY'S CURIOSITY.
Florence did not return to the cottage until past the usual dinner hour.
When she did so, her mother, who appeared to be very much excited, met
her in the porch.
"There has come a little parcel for you," she said, "from the 'Crown and
Garter Hotel.' I wish you would open it; I am quite curious: it is
sealed. The messenger did not want to leave it when I told him that you
were out. He said it had been given him by Miss Keys to bring to you,
and that he was to give it into your hands. I wonder what it can be?"
"Oh, it is nothing of importance," said Florence, turning quite pale.
"Give it to me, please, mother."
"Nothing of importance, indeed!" said the little widow, tossing her
head; "it seemed to me very much of importance. The messenger was quite
fussed when he found you were not here: he said perhaps he had better
take it back, but I assured him that I did not lose things when they
were addressed to my only daughter, and that he might safely trust me to
put the parcel into your hands. He was one of the waiters from the
hotel--a very stylish-looking person indeed. What riches and what luck
follow some people! Why should Miss Keys have everything and my poor
girl be left out in the cold?"
"Oh, mother, I would not change with Bertha Keys for anything," said
Florence; "but give me the parcel, please."
"Here it is; you'll open it and assuage my curiosity."
"It is only a letter from Bertha; I quite know what it contains," said
Florence. She got red first and then pale. Her mother's bright beady
eyes were fixed on her face.
"Well, but can't you open it and tell me about it? You know how
curiosity does eat into me: I can't sleep, I can't enjoy my food when
there's a secret surrounding me. What's in the letter, Flo? If you are
too tired to read it just now, I will open it for you."
"No, thank you, mother; I know what it contains: it is a message from
Miss Keys. I met her on the sands this morning and--and she said she
would write."
With a wild fluttering at her heart, Florence popped the sealed packet
into her pocket and sat down near the door.
"I am thoroughly tired," she said, "and my head aches."
Mrs. Aylmer appeared to be annoyed and disappointed.
"I do declare," she exclaimed, "I don't think any of the girls of the
present day have health worth mentioning. There's Kitty: she's been
fretting and fuming because you went out without her; she's a nice,
refined sort of little thing, but she has a headache, and now after
preparing the very nicest little dinner out of the scraps which that
young man ought to have eaten last night, you never came in to partake.
I had lobster salad of the most recherche description, and you were not
present, while Kitty could scarcely eat because of her headache, so I
had to do justice to the mayonnaise myself; and now you come in looking
washed out and wretched. I do declare," she concluded, "things are more
comfortable for me when Sukey and I are alone."
"Well, mother, I shall be leaving you shortly. I shall probably be going
to London to-morrow or next day."
"So soon, after arranging to spend the holidays with me?"
"I have changed my mind about that now," said Florence restlessly; "I
must work and begin to earn money."
"I have not a penny to give you to start with, you understand that."
"I have a little money," said Florence, and her face coloured and then
turned pale: "I think I can manage."
"I wonder how," thought the widow. She glanced at Florence, but did not
speak: a shrewd expression came into her eyes and she pursed up her
lips.
"I will go and coax Sukey to make a cup of coffee for you," she said:
"there is nothing like really strong coffee as a cure for a headache,
and you can have some bread-and-butter. I am sorry to say I can afford
nothing else for your dinner to-day."
"Oh, coffee and bread-and-butter will do splendidly," said Florence.
Her mother left the room. A moment later Kitty came down.
"Flo," she said, "I have just received a letter from father; he will
reach Southampton to-morrow and I am to go and meet him there. Won't you
come too?"
"Oh, may I go with you?" said Florence, sensibly brightening.
"May you? Of course you may; it will be so splendid to see him again,
and you must constantly stay with me--constantly, Flo dear. Oh, I am so
happy, so happy!"