"How am I to be kind to such an awful girl?" she whispered to her own heart, but then she remembered her vow to God. She was trying with all her might to keep it, but nothing seemed quite right.
It was within a week of the end of the term, when, one morning, Molly received a letter from her grandmother. It ran as follows:
My Dear Molly:
You will be wondering what I intend you to do during the Christmas vacation which is now so close at hand, and you will doubtless be preparing for your usual time with me. Well, my dear child, I am sorry to disappoint you. I know, darling, that you love me very much, and it is a great pleasure to me to have you; but, after careful consideration, I have made up my mind that I must not have that pleasure this Christmas. It would be very selfish of me to have you in the house, Molly, for I could do little or nothing to give you pleasure while you were with me. My health, my dear child, is not what it was; I suffer terribly from insomnia, and can stand none of that noise and racket in which the young delight. In short, it would be very wrong to mope you up with an old woman, Molly. My faithful servant, Pearson, attends to all my wants; my doctor visits me daily. I have a full measure of that peace and calm, that quiet and rest, which are now my sole ideas of earthly happiness. You must not, therefore, fret about me, dear, for I am as well as an old woman of over eighty can be. This letter is to tell you, dear Molly, that you are not to spend Christmas with me. Have you any idea what you would like to do with yourself? Your letters from St. Dorothy's interest me very much. I delight in reading about your life, dear, for I can do so without in the least exciting myself. I always thought highly of Cecil Ross, and what you say about the Irish girl, Kate O'Connor gives me much pleasure. I told you all about my little scheme, Molly, for endowing girls who are ladies, and really want a good start in life. From certain things you tell me, it is possible that I may be able to assist Kate materially in the future. I can say nothing about that at present, but I wish you clearly to understand that I take an interest in her. I hope she will quite recover from her serious accident. What an escape she had of her life, poor child! what an awful operation she must have gone through! My dear Molly, what do you think of the following idea? Suppose you and Kate arrange to spend your Christmas with Cecil. Cecil will, of course, want to join her brothers, and you might all keep house together for a month. You can talk this over with Cecil, and let me know. Please understand that, in any arrangement of this kind, I consider myself responsible for the expenses. Why not go to the seaside? Some people enjoy the sea at Christmas. A complete change of that sort will do you all good, and a lot of young things together can knock up a good deal of fun—at least, I used to find that the case in those days in the dim past when I was young. Let me know what you settle, my darling, and believe me,
Your affectionate grandmother,
Mary Lavender.
Molly read this letter with a quickly beating heart and flushed cheeks; she plunged it into her pocket, and danced rather than walked down to breakfast. Kate O'Connor had no home to go to, and Miss Forester had asked her to remain on at Redgarth if no better offer turned up. Kate had not yet recovered her usual color, nor were her eyes so bright as of old, she was gentle and affectionate to everyone, but a good deal of her high spirit had deserted her.
When Molly had an opportunity she spoke to Kate about the old trouble, but Kate's illness had made all that time seem rather dim to her, and although she was now very fond of Molly, something of the old verve had left her friendship.
"But it will be all right, more than right, when I get her away to the seaside," thought Molly to herself. "Oh, what a splendid idea it is!"
"Molly, what are you thinking about?" asked Cecil, as Molly ate her bread and butter and smiled to herself.
"You might as well give us a share of your happy thoughts," said Hester. "You can't possibly know how comical you look, eating and smiling and nodding, and never letting out a word."
"I have had such a jolly letter," answered Molly.