When Hugh has gone to the Rosery, and she joins her mother and Honor in the drawing-room, they both fall upon her, metaphorically speaking, and scold her roundly for what they call her unkindness and vanity. Hard words these for poor Molly to hear as she stands abashed before them, especially coming from either her mother or Honor, who are both so gentle with her always.
"It is not as if you were a child now," says Mrs. Merivale in a vexed tone of voice. "What might have passed for fun two or three years ago amounts to rudeness in a girl of your age. And how you can like to be unkind—yes, unkind, Molly,—I really do not know. What made you refuse to walk up to the Rosery with Hugh? You are certainly his favourite of all the girls" (here she tries to speak carelessly), "and when he is going away, goodness knows how far and for how long, you must needs be almost uncivil to him. Now, I must beg, Molly, that you do your best to make Hugh's last evening here a happy one. I don't suppose he is in very good spirits, poor fellow! and we don't want to put him into worse. Do you hear me? Very well. Come here and give me a kiss. Now, you can run away if you like."
Molly, who is almost on the verge of tears, is glad to avail herself of this permission. Catching up her large white garden hat she returns to the ash, with the intention of getting her work, which she has left there in a state of chaos.
Sitting down, however, she begins thinking, and presently a tear drops on her hands, which are lying loosely clasped in her lap. Others seeming likely to follow, she is just raising her hand to brush them away, when at a little distance she, hears, in Hugh's fine tenor, the old familiar song he is so fond of singing:
"O, Molly Bawn, why leave me pining,
All lonely waiting here for you,
While stars above are brightly shining,
Because they've nothing else to do!"
In another moment he has caught sight of her white dress through the branches of the tree, and going quickly round to the entrance, he goes in and sits down by her side.
"Why, Molly! In the dumps?" he says kindly.
Molly shakes her head, but says nothing, and there is a long pause.
"I wish you could have found time to go up to the Rosery with me, Molly," Hugh says at length. "It was so cool and pleasant. I think it would have done you good after the hot day."
A little gasping kind of sigh, then, "I could have gone if I had chosen," says truthful Molly. "It was all humbug about the business."