"It was nothing, I tell you. All because Philip kindly picked a little bit of dust out of my eye."
"How good of Philip! considering all the dust you have thrown into his of late. And Ted objected?"
"Yes, and was very rude into the bargain. I wouldn't have believed it of him."
"Well, you know yourself you have been going on anyhow with Philip during the past few days."
"Oh, Cecil, how can you say so? Am I to turn my back on him when he comes to speak to me? And even supposing I had flirted egregiously with him (which is not the case), is that a reason why one is to be scolded and abused and have all sorts of the most dreadful things said to one?" (I leave my readers to deplore the glaring exaggeration of this speech.) "He looked, too, as if he could have eaten me then and there. I know this, I shan't forgive him in a hurry."
"Poor Ted! I expect he doesn't have much of a time with you," says Cecil, shaking her head.
"Are you laughing at me?" cries Molly, wrathfully. "Then make ready for death." And, taking the smaller Cecil in her arms, she most unkindly lifts her from among her cozy cushions and deposits her upon the floor. "There! Now will you repent? But come, Cecil, get up, and prepare for your husband's reception. I will be your maid to-night, if you will let me. What will you wear?"
"Pale blue. It suits me best. See, that is my dress." Pointing to a light-blue silk, trimmed with white lace, that lies upon the bed. "Will you really help me to dress? But you cannot do my hair?"
"Try me."
She does try, and proves so highly satisfactory that Cecil is tempted to offer splendid wages if she will consent to come and live with her.