And away went Molly and Rhoda, with a smiling assent from Madam.
What a very repulsive, vulgar disagreeable girl this Molly Delawarr is! True, my gentle reader. And yet—does she do much more than say, in plain language, what a great number of Mollys are not ashamed to think?
Phoebe’s sensations, in view of the coming visit to the Court, were far removed from pleasure. Must she go? She braced up her courage, and ventured to ask.
“If you please, Madam—”
“Well, child?” was the answer, in a sufficiently gracious tone to encourage Phoebe to proceed.
“Must I go with Mrs Rhoda to Delawarr Court, if you please, Madam?”
“Why, of course, child.” Madam’s tone expressed surprise, though not displeasure.
Phoebe swallowed her regret with a sigh, and tried to comfort herself with the thought of meeting Gatty, which was the only bright spot in the darkness. But would Gatty be there?
Rhoda and Molly came in to tea arm-in-arm.
“And how has my Lady Delawarr her health, Mrs Molly?” inquired Madam, as she poured out the refreshing fluid.