“Yes, you did; you know you did,” shaking her scissors at the other.
“Well, haven’t I tried to make him love me? Oh, I am so ashamed! Trying to make a man love me, and he won’t show the least little bit of love,” and she hid her face in her hands, in apparent distress.
“That’s all put on, miss; as if I couldn’t see. You were not here a week before you had that great big brother of mine dancing after you as if tied to your apron-strings,” and Mollie looked severely at the culprit.
“But, Mollie, I couldn’t help it. He would come—and come, and stay—and stay—and—and—I didn’t know you objected—and I’ll go away to-morrow,” and the poor girl burst into a flood of tears, and sank beside the floral tribute to her lover.
In an instant Mollie was by her side, her white arms clasped around the sobbing girl, and the kisses checking the rain of tears.
“There, there, Marie, my own true girl!” she coaxingly said, “I was only teasing you. I would not, indeed I would not, have said it if I had thought you would have believed me in earnest. I am proud of my brother’s choice; I want you for a sister.”
“And you are not angry with me for not loving Mr. Cobb?” looking up beseechingly.
“No, dear girl. I love Junius, for he is a noble though a silent man. It would have given me great pleasure to have seen him love and marry you, Marie, for you will be a prize to your husband; but, to be my brother’s wife, that is better still,” and she kissed the red, quivering lips of the girl, and gently raised her form from the ground.
Thus another scheme devised by human minds had failed.