"Perhaps you had better," said Hester, giving Molly a queer glance.
Molly ran out of the room. Hester was dragged down on an ottoman between two of her friends. They were both excited.
"Do let us talk the thing over!" they said. "Did you ever know anything so dramatic? and didn't Kate look charming? I'm sure one wouldn't mind being a peasant, or a dairymaid, or anything else, if one could look as she did just now."
"It wasn't the look so much as the words," said a tall, dark girl who stood near. "I scarcely looked at her, but her words were like a poem. I never knew anyone choose her language so well. I suppose she inherits her talent from that wonderful old man. How I wish I were an artist, that I might sketch that scene which she depicted the old man and the girl! Anyone in all the world would be proud to be that girl. Oh, what is it, Miss Ross? Did you speak?"
Cecil had been waiting all this time to find an opportunity.
"The thing to do," she said, "is this. We must not waste our time in admiring the beautiful picture which Miss O'Connor sketched for us; we must get at the bottom of the mischief which has been going on. Molly Lavender and Kate were great friends; now Kate is unkind and cold to Molly. Did you say anything, Hester?"
"Well, the fact is," said Hester, "I am not greatly surprised."
"Why? Do you know anything of this?"
"Something; please don't look at me so indignantly, Cecil. We all love Molly, and it was quite the last sort of thing we expected her to do."
"But she did nothing. What do you mean? Molly loves Kate with all her heart; there is nothing she would not do for her. What is this mystery?"