“‘Kind hearts are more than coronets,’
you think, Miss Barry. Well, I own I am proud of my family, but I am willing to take your good-will on your own terms.”
He held his hand out, and she laid her little gloved one in it. He pressed her shabby little gauntlet a moment, gently, and a thrill of pleasure ran along the girl’s nerves.
“He is so nice—and only last night I hated him!” she said, naïvely, to herself.
What a ride it was, and how charming she found her late foe! He praised her riding, and declared that it was splendid, considering this was only her second attempt.
“You must let me ride with you every morning. You will find me more trustworthy than Uncle Abe,” he said, and Molly, who had vowed only that morning that she would have nothing to do with him, agreed to his wish with frank pleasure.
But the violet eyes and the low, winning voice had disarmed her resentment. Molly was pleased to find a friend where she had dreaded an enemy.
“He will not tell Aunt Thalia, and if Louise will only let me come home before I do any other mischief, everything will go right,” she thought; then, looking up, suddenly: “If I get a letter from my sister this morning, I shall have to go home soon,” she said.
She saw a dark frown come over his face. He exclaimed, brusquely:
“I hate to hear you call that actress’ daughter sister!”