Ringing the bell, she orders round the carriage, and presently she and Molly are wending their way down the stairs.
At the very end of the long, beautiful old hall, stands Philip Shadwell, taking, it may be, a last look from the window, of the place so long regarded as his own.
As they see him, both girls pause, and Molly's lips lose something of their fresh, warm color.
"Go and speak to him now," says Cecil, and, considerately remembering a hypothetical handkerchief, retraces her steps to the room she had just quitted.
"Philip!" says Molly, timidly, going up to him.
He turns with a start, and colors a dark red on seeing her, but neither moves nor offers greeting.
"Oh, Philip! let me do something for you," says Molly impulsively, without preparation, and with tears in her eyes. "I have robbed you, though unwittingly. Let me make amends. Out of all I have let me give you——"
"The only thing I would take from you it is out of your power to give," he interrupts her, gently.
"Do not say so," she pleads, in trembling tones. "I do not want all the money. I cannot spend it. I do not care for it. Do take some of it, Philip. Let me share——"
"Impossible, child!" with a faint smile. "You don't know what you are saying." Then, with an effort, "You are going to marry Luttrell?"