Ruth protested politely, but Mollie preserved an unusual silence for the rest of the visit. She was evidently thinking hard, and the result of her cogitations was, that when she returned to the Court she paid a surprise visit to Mr Farrell in his sanctum.
The old man was sitting reading in his favourite chair, and as he looked up it struck Mollie that he looked more alert than she had seen him since her arrival. The voice in which he answered her greeting was certainly less wearied and fretful than usual. He looked, if such a miracle could be believed, almost pleased to see her.
“Well,—so you have returned from your wanderings!”
“Yes, here I am, come to bother you again. There’s a whole half-hour before you need begin to dress, and I’ve something very important to talk to you about.”
“What does that mean, pray? More new dresses? I should have thought you could hardly have come to the end of the last supply by this time.”
“Goodness, no! They will last for years. It is something far more important.”
Mollie seated herself on a low chair directly opposite the old man, leant her elbows on her knees, her chin on her hands, and said hesitatingly—
“Uncle Bernard!”
“Mary!”
“Do you remember the first evening we were here, when you spoke to us about our visit? You said that you might possibly allow each of us in turn to act as master or mistress of the ceremonies for a short time?”