"I'm so glad you like her, too," Molly declared earnestly.
"Then you are not jealous of her?"
"Oh, Uncle Guy, no!"
"You need not be. It is very cruel to begrudge her a few pleasures after what her life must have been in the past; perhaps if Doris knew the privations her cousin has suffered, she would not be jealous of her because she has fallen upon better days."
"She does know," Molly admitted with a sigh. "Oh, here comes Felicia! Please don't let her guess we've been talking about her, Uncle Guy."
Felicia was now crossing the lawn, carrying a wicker tea-table, whilst Ann White followed, bearing a tray with the tea-things. Just at that moment Mr. Renford came up the carriage drive, and catching sight of the group under the arbutus tree made towards it.
"That's right, grandfather, come and have some tea!" cried Molly. "There's no room for you on the seat, but I'll get you a chair," and she flew into the house and fetched one for him.
"This is pleasanter than indoors—eh, Guy?" said Mr. Renford.
His son assented; and then the question arose which of the little girls should pour out the tea.
"You, Felicia, because you live here," said Molly, generously willing to give up what she considered a post of honour.