ll a horrible, an
unaccountable mistake, a mere connection of ideas by your husband,--no
more, no more, I give you my most sacred honor."

"Oh, sly Mr. Buscarlet!" cries her ladyship, lightly, "cruel Mr.
Buscarlet! Who would have thought it of you? And we all imagined you
such an ally of poor dear Lady Elizabeth. To make a joke about her
parentage, and such a good one too! And Sir Penthony found you out?
Clever Sir Penthony."

"I swear, my dear lady, I----"

"Ah, ha! wait till she hears of it. How she _will_ enjoy it! With
all her faults, she is good-tempered. It will amuse her. Molly, my
dear, is not Mr. Buscarlet terribly severe?"

"Naughty Mr. Buscarlet!" says Molly, shaking a reproachful dainty-white
finger at him. "And I believed you so harmless."

At this they both laugh so immoderately that presently the lawyer loses
all patience, and, taking up his hat, rushes from the room in a greater
rage than he could have thought possible, considering that one of his
provocators bears a title.

They are still laughing when the others enter the room, and insist on
learning the secret of their mirth. Tedcastle alone fails to enjoy it.
He is _distrait_, and evidently oppressed with care. Seeing this,
Molly takes heart of grace, and, crossing to his side, says, sweetly:

"Do you see how the day has cleared? That lovely sun is tempting me to
go out. Will you take me for a walk?"

"Certainly,--if you want to go." Very coldly.

"But of course I do; and nobody has asked me to accompany them; so I am
obliged to thrust myself on you. If"--with a bewitching smile--"you
won't mind the trouble just this once, I will promise not to torment
you again."

Through the gardens, and out into the shrubberies beyond, they go in
silence, until they reach the open; then Molly says, laughing: "I know
you are going to scold me about Mr. Potts. Begin at once, and let us
get it over."

Her manner is so sweet, and she looks so gay, so fresh, so harmless,
that his anger melts as dew beneath the sun.

"You need not have let him place his arm around you," he says,
jealously.

"If I hadn't I should have slipped off the pedestal; and what did his
arm signify in comparison with that? Think of my grandfather's face;
think of mine; think of all the horrible consequences. I should have
been sent home in disgrace, perhaps--who knows?--put in prison, and you
might 'never, never, see your darling any more.'"

She laughs.

"What a jealous fello