Mott rubbed the remnants of sleep from his eyelids.
"She has gone for a walk," he said, slowly.
The young man stood fingering his hat.
"My name is Hurst," he said, with slight emphasis. "Mr. Alfred Hurst."
Mr. Mott, still somewhat confused, murmured that he was glad to hear it.
"I have come from London to see Florrie," continued the intruder. "I
suppose she won't be long?"
Mr. Mott thought not, and after a moment's hesitation invited Mr. Hurst
to take a chair.
"I suppose she told you we are engaged?" said the latter.
"Engaged!" said the startled Mr. Mott. "Why, she told me she didn't like
men."
"Playfulness," replied Mr. Hurst, with an odd look. "Ah, here she is!"
The handle of the front door turned, and a moment later the door of the
room was opened and the charming head of Miss Garland appeared in the
opening.
"Back again," she said, brightly. "I've just been----"
She caught sight of Mr. Hurst, and the words died away on her lips. The
door slammed, and the two gentlemen, exchanging glances, heard a hurried
rush upstairs and the slamming of another door.
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