Mollie returned these greetings courteously and with the utmost self-possession; but her eyes were very bright and the color in her cheeks gleamed like scarlet poppies for a moment.
Then the carriages passed and were parted without a word having been spoken, although Minnie had been upon the point of bursting out in her childish eagerness with some expression of greeting; but her mother hushed her with a single low-spoken word.
Mollie's heart burned within her with mingled scorn and indignation, in view of this coldness, for she well remembered the days when the whole family had been most gracious in their manner toward her—had even fawned upon her and spared no effort to cultivate her society.
She was stung anew, too, with the memory of the unpardonable outrage perpetrated against her father during their last visit with the Temples; while, even though she had long known that she had never loved and could never love and would never marry him under any circumstances, Philip's peculiar attitude toward her filled her with a secret contempt for him.
"Why! how strange that we should have met Mollie Heatherford, and what an elegant turnout that is in which she is riding!" Mrs. Temple observed to her husband after the encounter, while she turned and peered out of the rear window of their own carriage for another glimpse of Monsieur Lamonti's fine victoria with its liveried coachman and footman.
"It certainly is," Mr. Temple replied. "Those were magnificent horses, and everything about the affair indicated lavish expenditure. I don't quite understand the condition of things," he concluded reflectively.
"Mollie was richly dressed, too, and looked, as she always had a way of looking, like a queen—she has grown handsomer than ever," his wife pursued. "Did you notice the child and its nurse who were with her?" she went on, as if some startling thought had occurred to her. "Do you suppose the girl has married some rich widower and is queening it here in Washington society?"
Philip gave a violent start as his mother propounded this solution to the problem that was puzzling them all, and jealously regretting—as fickle human nature is prone to do when another shows appreciation of a discarded favorite—what he fondly imagined might have been his if he had chosen to press his suit.
"I have heard nothing of it if she has," said Mr. Temple, and looking not altogether comfortable in view of finding the Heatherfords again on an equal footing with himself. "The last I knew, Mr. Heatherford had secured a position here with a fair salary, and they were living comfortably, but in a very humble way compared with their former circumstances. I will make some inquires to-morrow and ascertain, if possible, just how they are situated."
Philip did not join in the conversation, but he secretly resolved that he would himself ascertain the truth about Mollie that very day. He would seek her in the location to which he had always addressed his letters, as long as he had written her, and if he failed to find her there he would search the city over for her.