It was difficult to know what to say. Was it not strange for her, a poor little school girl, to be offering money to a man who had so recently been a millionaire?
“Won’t you take this money?” she began again, resolutely. “I don’t think anyone will recognize you at the inn. It’s just a little country place and you will be quite comfortable there until I find Professor Green. I may get word to him to-night, or to-morrow at any rate.”
Mr. Blount eyed the money as a hungry dog eyes a bone. Evidently hunger and fatigue had got the better of his pride. He took the bill and touched it lovingly. Then he put it in his pocket.
“You’re a nice girl,” he said. “I thank you.”
“Would you like to see George Green?” asked Molly timidly.
“No, no, no!” he answered fiercely. “Not that young fool. I don’t suppose Judith is here?” he added presently in a tremulous voice.
“No, sir. She’s in New York for the holidays.”
They shook hands and separated. Mr. Blount took the path down the other side of the lake across the links to the village and Molly followed the path on the college side. As she cut through the pine woods she heard a shout.
“Molly Brown, where have you been? We have had a search for you!” cried Judy, rushing up, followed by the three boys.
“I reckon I’ve been a good deal like the pig who thought he was going to Cork when he was really going to Dublin,” laughed Molly. “If I hadn’t asked the way, I suppose I’d have been almost to Exmoor by this time. I am a poor person to find my way about. My brother used to tell me to take the direction opposite to the one my instincts told me to take and then I’d be going right.”