y away through the hall, leaving them once more alone in the
long, dark, ghostly drawing-room.

Molly draws her hand hurriedly away, and moving quietly from Luttrell's
side, breathes a sigh, half relief, half embarrassment; while he,
groping his way to the writing-table, finds a match, and, striking it,
throws light upon the scene again.

At the same moment Molly emerges from the curtains, with a heightened
color, and eyes, sweet but shamed, that positively refuse to meet his.

"I suppose I can trust you--to--say nothing of all this?" she murmurs,
unsteadily.

"I suppose you can." Haughtily.

His heart is still throbbing passionately; almost, he fears, each
separate beat can be heard in the oppressive stillness.

"Good-night," says Molly, slowly.

"Good-night."

Shyly, and still without meeting his gaze, she holds out her hand. He
takes it softly, reverently, and, emboldened by the gentleness of her
expression, says impulsively:

"Answer me a last question, darling,--answer me--_Are_ you going
to marry Philip?"

And she answers, also impulsively:

"No."

His face changes; hope once more shines within his blue eyes.
Involuntarily he draws up his tall, slight figure to its full height,
with a glad gesture that bespeaks returning confidence; then he glances
longingly first at Molly's downcast face, then at the small hand that
lies trembling in his own.

"May I?" he asks, and, receiving no denial, stoops and kisses it warmly
once, twice, thrice, with fervent devotion.

* * * * *

"My dear, how long you have been!" says Cecil, when at length Molly
returns to her room. "I thought you were never coming. Where have you
been?"

"In the drawing-room; and oh, Cecil! _he_ was there. And he would keep
me, asking me question after question."

"I dare say," says Cecil, looking her over. "That blue _negligee_ is
tremendously becoming. No doubt he has still a good many more questions
he would like to put to you. And you call yourself a nice, decorous,
well-behaved----"

"Don't be silly. You have yet to hear the 'decorous' and thrilling part
of my tale. Just as we were in the middle of a most animated discussion,
what do you think happened? Somebody actually came to the door and tried
to open it. In an instant Tedcastle blew out both our candles and drew
me behind the curtain."

"'"Curiouser and curiouser," said Alice.' I begin to think I'm in
Wonderland. Go on. The plot