"Good gracious!" said Molly, sharply.
"Wasn't it simply amazing?" Phyllis continued. "It nearly took my breath away. And then Lady Caryl arrived, and I showed it to her. And she said that the story of his ruin was false, that she thought he himself had invented it for a special reason that had ceased to exist. And she said that she thought he was richer now than he had ever been before. Why, Molly, Molly—what has happened? What is it?"
Molly had suddenly sprung upright in bed. The moonlight was shining on her beautiful face, and she was smiling tremulously, while her eyes were wet with tears.
She reached out both her arms with a gesture that was full of an infinite tenderness.
"Yes," she said, "yes, I see." And her glad voice rang and quivered on that note which Love alone can strike. "It's true, darling. It's true. He is richer now than he ever was before, and I—I have found endless riches too. For I love him—I love him—I love him! And—he knows it!"
"Molly!" exclaimed her sister in amazement.
Molly did not turn. She was staring into the moonlight with eyes that saw.
"And nothing else counts in all the world," she said. "He knows that too, as we all know it—we all know it—at the bottom of our hearts."
And with that she laughed—the soft, sweet laugh of Love triumphant—and lay back again by her sister's side.