Mr. Ingelow's eyes flashed angrily, and Mollie, seeing it, and being a born coquette, took the proffered arm at once.
It was the merest trifle grandmamma wanted, but it served the doctor's turn—he had got the beauty of the evening, and he meant to keep her.
Mollie listened to his endless flow of complimentary small-talk just as long as she chose, and then glided coolly away to flirt with a third adorer, the eminent young lawyer, Mr. Joseph Sardonyx.
Mollie hovered between those three the livelong evening; now it was the handsome artist, now the polished doctor, now the witty, satirical lawyer, flirting in the most unpardonable manner.
Even Mr. Walraven was a little shocked, and undertook, in the course of the evening, to expostulate.
"Flirting is all very well, Mollie," he said, "but it really mustn't be carried too far. People are beginning to make remarks."
"Are they?" said Mollie; "about which of us, pray? for really and truly, guardy, you have been flirting the worst of the two."
"Nonsense, Mollie! You mean Miss Oleander, I suppose? That is no flirtation."
"Indeed! then it is worse—it is serious?"
"Yes, if asking her to marry me be serious. And she has said yes, Mollie."