"Well, what is it, Molly?" answered Kate.
She had been looking quite bright and cheerful when she came into the hall; some words of a little song which she used to sing to Cusha were bubbling from her lips. Kate had a voice sweet and true as a lark's. The gay sound stopped when Molly addressed her. Molly's brown eyes met hers fully.
"I must say it," said Molly; "you shan't hinder me. I know you suspect me, Kate."
"We won't say anything more on the subject now, Molly," replied Kate, in a gentle tone.
"We must," replied Molly, with spirit. "Do you think I am going to live under suspicion? Look at me, Kate, and tell me if I seem like the sort of girl you suspect me of being."
"No, you don't; that is the cruel thing," said Kate, giving her a critical glance.
"Kate, won't you believe me?" said Molly. Her voice grew full of entreaty. "I never betrayed anyone in all my life; I never told a lie in all my life; I never broke a confidence since I was born. I have plenty of faults, but these are not mine. Is it likely, Kate, that I would tell what you told me in such confidence? Is it likely—is it?"
"No," said Kate, "it is not likely, but——" She paused.
"Yes, Kate, yes! what do you mean by 'but'? Do you still believe that I betrayed you?"
"How can I help myself, Molly?"