"Oh, what is it? What is it?" she cried, as she hurried toward them.
"It's nothing very definite, Mrs. Lester," Molly replied, calmly. "It's only something I feel so strongly that—"
"Oh, feel!" Mrs. Lester exclaimed, impatiently. "Don't frighten us with feelings when—"
"Is Mr. Lester in? I should like to talk to him as well."
The mother led the way toward the house. Molly followed, Ethelind clinging to her arm. It did not occur to any of them that no farther explanation had been made as to who Molly was. That seemed to take itself for granted.
The father was in the hall at the foot of the stairs. Cora was coming down them. Both had been summoned by the sense of something wrong. Molly went straight to her husband's father.
"Oh, I want to tell you, Mr. Lester; I feel I have a message."
"Feel you have a message?" he echoed, with a kind of tremulous severity. "What do you mean by that?"
"I don't know what I mean; only this morning he—he seemed to come and stand beside me—"
"Nonsense!" It was Cora who said that, from the position in which she had come to a standstill half-way down the stairs. To Molly she seemed very magisterial and commanding. "Nonsense!" she repeated. "This is pure nervousness—or hysterics."