She saw Molly looking at the pretty clock on the mantel, and thought, exultantly:
“She will go tonight, and tomorrow Miss Barry shall pay me the money, for this is just as good as if I had killed her,” she decided.
“You may go now, Florine; it is past my usual bed-time, but I shall sit up awhile,” said Molly.
The maid withdrew with a respectful good-night. She knew well that she had been dismissed because her young mistress desired to make secret preparations for flight.
She was right in her conjecture, for in less than half an hour the despairing wife stole away from The Acacias and took her solitary way through the London streets in the moonless darkness of the summer night.
CHAPTER XL.
Molly had determined to go to the Truehearts, tell them her whole sad history, and ask them to love her for her father’s sake.
“They can not turn me away, they are too fond of me already,” she said, hopefully to herself. “If they will only hide me from my enemies I shall love them and be grateful to them forever.”
She had begun to look on Cecil as her enemy now, as one who wished for her death that he might marry his new love.
“But they shall not kill me. I shall die soon enough of my broken heart anyhow,” she said sadly.