“Cecil, you will kindly excuse me for ten minutes,” she said, suavely; and, like a wise old lady, left them alone to get acquainted with each other.
Molly drew a long, deep breath that was almost a sob, and looked up, thinking that she had escaped a threatening danger.
She thought, happily:
“He does not recognize me!”
But she was mistaken. Cecil Laurens was looking at her with a quizzical smile.
He drew his chair nearer—beside her, in fact—and said, reproachfully:
“You said your name was Molly Trueheart—”
“Oh, hush!” cried Molly.
She almost jumped out of her seat in her terror lest Mrs. Barry should have heard his words.
“I——I—told you—a—a story, Mr. Laurens,” she said, tremulously. “But please, please don’t tell Aunt Thalia!”