"I have Letitia."
"Letitia"—indignantly—"is a very handsome woman, not more than ten years older than yourself. She a protector!"
"I can't help that."
"Yes, you can; but your—obstinacy—won't allow you. Do you, then, intend to let no one know of your affairs?"
"I shall confide in Cecil Stafford, because I can't avoid it. But I know she will keep my secret until I give her leave to speak."
"It comes to this, then, that you consider every one before me. It is nothing to you whether I eat my heart out in ignorance of whether you are alive or dead."
"Cecil"—hastily—"may tell you so much."
"Thank you; this is a wonderful concession."
"Why should I concede at all, when, as I have said, you are no longer bound to me?"
"But I am,—more strongly so than ever; and I insist, I desire you, Molly, to let me know what it is you intend doing."