"Not at all. You don't suppose he has left the city?"
"No. He told me that he would not leave—that he would remain and watch me, unseen and unknown."
"Then, if you advertise—if you address him through the medium of the daily papers—he will see and answer your advertisement."
"Very probably. But he isn't going to tell me who he is. If he had any intention of doing so, he would have done it last week."
Miriam shook her head.
"I'm not so sure about that. You never asked him to reveal himself. You gave him no reason to suppose you would do otherwise than scorn and flout him, let him be who he might. It is different now. If it is Hugh Ingelow, you will forgive him all?"
"Miriam, see here: why are you so anxious I should forgive this man?"
"Because I want to see you some respectable man's wife; because I want to see you safely settled in life, and no longer left to your own caprices, or those of Carl Walraven. If you love this Hugh Ingelow, and marry him, you may probably become a rational being and a sensible matron yet."
Mollie made a wry face.
"The last thing I ever want to be. And I don't believe half a dozen husbands would ever transform me into a 'sensible matron.' But go on, all the same. I'm open to suggestion. What do you want me to do?"