“You will have to curb that rebellious tongue of yours, my dear Mary, if you are to get through the next few weeks without trouble. The good people about here are not accustomed to such picturesque exaggerations, and will take everything you say as literal fact, so you had better beware. You will probably have a number of visitors this week, so it would be as well to arrange to be at home as much as possible in the afternoons. Calling is a more serious business in the country than in town; and when people have taken the trouble to drive eight or nine miles, it is a disappointment to find nobody at home.” He turned towards Jack, and continued: “Of course, this restriction does not apply to you, or to Druce. Your presence will not be expected; and if you agree with me, the further afield you can be, the better you will be pleased. There are some charming excursions which you could manage in an afternoon’s ride, and, from what I hear, your horsemanship has improved so rapidly that you could easily manage them. Bates will be happy to give you any directions you may require; or, still better, to accompany you as guide.”
These remarks were so markedly addressed to Jack, that no one but himself could venture to reply, and his self-will was so much ruffled by the deliberate ignoring of his expressed determination that he was instantly aflame with wrath. His nostrils curved, his brows arched, his lips opened to pronounce a sharp disclaimer, when suddenly he caught sight of Mollie’s face gazing at him across the table; and if ever a face cried “Don’t!” with all the eloquence of pleading eyes and parted lips, Mollie’s said it at that moment. The message was so unmistakable and ardent that it demanded obedience, and to his own surprise Jack found himself murmuring conventional words of thanks, instead of the heated disclaimer which he had intended.
Later on in the evening he followed Mollie into a corner of the drawing-room to demand a reason for her unspoken interference.
“It was not honest to seem to agree when I have no intention of being here for a single afternoon. Why wouldn’t you let me speak?” he demanded; whereupon Mollie pursed her lips, and said thoughtfully—
“I hardly know. You were going to be cross, and it is Sunday—our first Sunday here. I didn’t want it to be spoilt by angry words. If you must disappoint the old man, do it gently. Don’t answer back, even if he is annoying. You will be glad afterwards—when he is dead, and you have nothing to regret.”
Jack looked down at her in silence. Was this the pert school-girl, whom he had just deemed unworthy of serious consideration? The face into which he looked seemed of a sudden that of a woman rather than that of a child—soft and sweet, grave-eyed, with lovely, serious lips. The very voice was altered, and had an added richness of tone. It was like catching a glimpse into the future, and beholding the woman that was to be, when girlhood’s bright span was over. Instinctively Jack’s manner altered to meet the change. The supercilious curve left his lip, his keen eyes softened.
“Thank you, Miss Mollie,” he said gravely. “You are quite right. I’ll remember!”
She thanked him with a luminous glance, and turned away; but he wanted to see her again, to hear her speak once more in that beautiful new voice. Before she had taken three steps he called to her eagerly—
“Miss Mollie! One moment! I expect I shall be packed off, bag and baggage, as soon as I have announced my decision; but Mr Farrell does not make his appearance until lunch-time, so we have a whole morning left still. Will you come for a last ride with me after breakfast?”
“Yes,” said Mollie simply.