Molly rushed on tiptoe into the summerhouse.
“They’re coming!” she whispered, “and Jim is with them! Have we got enough cups and saucers? Oh, yes, good Susan! Now I am going to stand at the gate.”
The gate was opened and the three visitors appeared. Molly shook hands most gracefully; Jim gave her an admiring glance.
It was just then that Susan, distracted, her face crimson, hurried out.
“Miss Molly,” she said, “Miss Molly!”
“Bring the tea, please,” said Molly, in a manner which seemed to say—“Keep yourself at a distance, if you please.”
“Miss Molly, you must go to the missus at once.”
“Why?” said Molly.
“She’s that flustered she’s a’most in hysterics. That naughty Miss Nesta has gone and run away. She ain’t been with her at all. Missus has been alone the whole blessed afternoon.”
“I can’t go now,” said Molly, “and I won’t.”