“Yes,” began 'Toinette, and then, the sound of footsteps upon the staircase interrupting her, she broke off abruptly to listen. “It is Phil's visitor,” she said.
Mollie got up from her seat, roused into a lazy sort of interest.
“I am going to look at him,” she said, and went to the window.
The next minute she drew back, blushing.
“He saw me,” she said. “I did n't think he could, if I stood here in the corner.”
But he had; and more than that, in his admiration of her dimples and round fire-flushed cheeks, had smiled into her face, openly and without stint, as he passed.
After tea Gowan came in. Mollie opened the door for him; and Mollie, in a soft blue dress, and with her hair dressed to a marvel, was a vision to have touched any man's fancy. She was in one of her sweet acquiescent moods, too, having recovered herself since the afternoon; and when she led him into the parlor, she blushed without any reason whatever, as usual, and as a consequence looked enchanting.
“Phil has gone out,” she said. “'Toinette is putting Tod to bed, and Aimée is helping her; so there is no one here but me.”
Gowan sat down—in Dolly's favorite chair.
“You are quite enough,” he said; “quite enough—for me.”