"Well, Molly? Oh! I see you haven't got them. After all, I never expected it." She sate down, as if she could get over her disappointment better in that position, and Molly stood like a guilty person before her.
"I am so sorry; I did all I could; we were interrupted at last—Mr. Sheepshanks rode up."
"Provoking old man! Do you think you should have persuaded him to give up the letters if you had had more time?"
"I don't know. I wish Mr. Sheepshanks hadn't come up just then. I didn't like his finding me standing talking to Mr. Preston."
"Oh! I daresay he'd never think anything about it. What did he—Mr. Preston—say?"
"He seemed to think you were fully engaged to him, and that these letters were the only proof he had. I think he loves you in his way."
"His way, indeed!" said Cynthia, scornfully.
"The more I think of it, the more I see it would be better for papa to speak to him. I did say I would tell it all to Lady Harriet, and get Lord Cumnor to make him give up the letters. But it would be very awkward."
"Very!" said Cynthia, gloomily. "But he would see it was only a threat."
"But I will do it in a moment, if you like. I meant what I said; only I feel that papa would manage it best of all, and more privately."