After a moment he set her quietly free.
"I see you are serious," he said. "If you weren't—it would be intolerable. But do you actually expect me to take you at your word?"
She did not hesitate. "I wish you to," she said.
"You think you would be happy with me?" he pursued. "You know, I am called eccentric by a good many."
"You are eccentric," said Molly, "or you wouldn't dream of marrying one of us. As to being happy, it isn't my nature to be miserable. I don't want to be a countess, but I do want to help my people. That in itself would make me happy."
"Thank you for telling me the truth," Wyverton said, gravely. "I believe I have suspected some of it from the first. And now listen. I asked your sister to marry me—because I wanted her. But I will spoil no woman's life. I will take nothing that does not belong to me. I shall set her free."
He paused. Molly was looking at him expectantly. His face softened a little under her eyes.
"As for you," he said, "I don't think you quite realize what you have offered me—how much of yourself. It is no little thing, Molly. It is all you have. A woman should not part with that lightly. Still, since you have offered it to me, I cannot and do not throw it aside. If you are of the same mind in six months from now, I shall take you at your word. But you ought to marry for love, child—you ought to marry for love."
He held out his hand to her abruptly, and Molly, with a burning face, gave him both her own.
"I can't think how I did it," she said, in a low voice. "But I—I am not sorry."