Although his tone includes both women, his eyes rest alone on Molly.
"Then you do actually work, sometimes?" says that young lady, with exaggerated surprise and uplifted lids.
"Now and then,—occasionally—as little as I can help."
"What a speech, coming from an ambitious pupil!" cries she, gayly. "Ah! did I not judge you rightly a moment ago when I accused you of idleness?"
Philip laughs, and disappears, while Molly follows Marcia into a small drawing-room, a sort of general boudoir, where the ladies of the household are in the habit of assembling after breakfast, and into which, sooner or later, the men are sure to find their way.
Marcia settles down to the everlasting macrame work on which she seems perpetually engaged, while indolent Molly sits calmly, and it must be confessed very contentedly, with her hands before her.
After a considerable silence, Marcia says, icily:
"I fear you will find Herst Royal dull. There is so little to amuse one in a house where the host is an invalid. Do you read?"
"Sometimes," says Molly, studying her companion curiously, and putting on the air of ignorance so evidently expected.
"Yes? that is well. Reading is about the one thing we have to occupy our time here. In the library you will probably be able to suit yourself. What will you prefer? an English work? or"—superciliously—"perhaps French? You are without doubt a French scholar."