“Here, take it back; I—I can’t marry you. Don’t tell Aunt Thalia, please,” she faltered, desperately.
Cecil took the ring and her hand with it, and pushed the jewel back on the slim, rosy finger.
“My darling, what a bashful little goose you are!” he returned, laughingly; and just then Mrs. Barry came up and found him holding the little hand tightly in his own.
“Louise, I was so uneasy about your long absence, I took Agnes and came to hunt you; but if I had known that Cecil was with you, I should not have been alarmed,” she said.
Molly muttered something incoherently, and tried to wrest her hand from its captor, but Cecil held it up triumphantly before Mrs. Barry, who laughed in glee as she caught the glitter of the diamond.
“Engaged!” she exclaimed, gladly.
“Yes,” he replied, jubilantly. “Will you give us your blessing, Aunt Thalia?”
“With all my heart,” replied the old woman. “Louise, do not look so bashful and frightened, my dear, for I am very much pleased at your choice;” and she actually kissed the little bit of white forehead that was visible above the arm with which Molly had hidden her face.
Agnes Walker, too, looked very proud and pleased, and uttered a few words of congratulation that would have delighted Molly if this had not been, as she said to herself, “all a dreadful sham.”
She sat like one in a dream, listening to Mrs. Barry’s cracked voice in its complacent chatter.