He could not help being roused somewhat by such a prospect. The cloud was lifted for one instant, even if it fell upon him again the next.
“I shall have to wait a week,” he said. “Old Flynn has asked me to go to Dartmouth, to attend to some business for him, and I leave here to-morrow morning.”
“Very well!” she answered. “If we must wait a week, we must; but you can write to Dolly in the interval, and settle upon the day, and then she can speak to Miss MacDowlas.”
He agreed to the plan at once, and promised to write to Dolly that very night. So the young peacemaker's mind was set at rest upon this subject, at least, and after giving him a trifle more advice, and favoring him with a few more sage axioms, she prepared to take her departure.
“You may put on your hat and take me to the door; but you had better not come in if you are going to finish your letter before the post closes,” she said; “but the short walk will do you good, and the night-air will cool you.”
She bade him good-night at the gate when they reached Bloomsbury Place, and she entered the house with her thoughts turning to Mollie. Mollie had been out, too, it seemed. When she went up-stairs to their bedroom, she found her there, standing before the dressing-table, still with her hat on, and looking in evident preoccupation at something she held in her hand. Hearing Aimée, she started and turned round, dropping her hand at her side, but not in time to hide a suspicious glitter which caught her sister's eye. Here was a worse state of affairs than ever. She had something to hide, and she had made up her mind to hide it. She stood up as Aimée approached, looking excited and guilty, but still half-defiant, her lovely head tossed back a little and an obstinate curve on her red lips. But the oracle was not to be daunted. She confronted her with quite a stern little air.
“Mollie,” she began at once, without the least hesitation,—"Mollie, you have just this minute hidden something from me, and I should n't have thought you could do it.”
Mollie put her closed hand behind her.
“If I am hiding something,” she answered, “I am not hiding it without reason.”
“No,” returned Dame Prudence, severely, “you are not. You have a very good reason, I am afraid. You are ashamed of yourself, and you know you are doing wrong. You have got a secret, which you are keeping from me, Mollie,” bridling a little in the prettiest way. “I didn't think you would keep a secret from me.”