His Cousin Mildred Brown knew what safety in numbers there was for him, and hoped he would not come to the conclusion that her Molly was the one of all others for him. Not that she did not like him. She was very fond of him and fully appreciated all of the d'Ochtè kindness to her and her little crowd of girls; but she had in a measure given her word to Edwin Green: that if he would not speak to Molly of his love for her for a year, he would find her daughter still unattached. She felt that she had done right in asking this of Professor Green. She was confident that she knew Molly's inmost thoughts and feelings, and that if she had any preference at all, it was for the young professor.
There were times when this anxious mother realized that one could not be too cocksure about the heart of anyone, even of one's own flesh and blood. Molly had noticed that Elise was not herself, and Mrs. Brown had noticed that none of her girls were quite themselves. For the last few days there had been a condition in the apartment in the Rue Brea of nerves at high tension; tempers a little uncertain; feelings a little tender. Mrs. Brown held her peace and endeavored tactfully to steer their little ménage safely over the shoals.
She thought she understood Elise. The poor girl was suffering with jealousy of Judy, who had plunged into an intimacy with the Kinsellas, uncle and nephew alike. She and Pierce would go on long tramps into the country and play a kind of game of memory sketches, seeing which one could bring home the greater number of impressions. Mr. Kinsella had become interested in their game and had joined them on one of their walks, becoming so fired with enthusiasm that he had actually tried to do some painting himself. He had been quite successful, considering the number of years that had passed since he had even so much as squeezed paint out of a tube. They had asked Elise to join them, but she had coldly refused. After those walks had become so popular with the trio, then it was that Elise had begun a rather half-hearted flirtation with Philippe d'Ochtè.
Judy was in one of her gayest and most irritating moods. "Getting ready for what she calls 'a Judy Kean scrape,' I am afraid," thought Mrs. Brown. "Our winter has been so peaceful and harmonious; but this mist will clear away soon, I know."
Judy seemed to realize that she was hurting Elise in some way but to be perfectly careless of the result. She never lost an opportunity to give Molly a dig about Frances Andrews, and when that young woman had come to the studio to tea, Judy had been very cold and almost rude to her. Molly, on her side, was a little distrait and listless and very touchy.
"What is the matter with my girls?" thought poor Mrs. Brown. "For the last week they have been like naughty children."
When Molly and her mother were having the little confidential talk recorded above, the elder lady did not realize that two American mails had come and that neither Judy nor Molly had received the bulky epistles that they usually did,—Judy one from Kentucky, and Molly one from Wellington. This was the cause of their unreasonable tempers. And had she but known it, on the other side of the Atlantic her own son Kent was eaten up with the green-eyed monster all because Judy had mentioned the name of Kinsella six times in her last letter! And he, Kent, had only that morning called his brother Paul "a conceited ass" because Paul had on a cravat to match his socks; and he had been equally unreasonable with a misguided waiter who brought him macaroni when he ordered spaghetti.
As for the dignified Professor Green, he had actually "hollered" at a poor freshman who had in reading some poetry pronounced "unshed tears" as though unshed were in one syllable. "'Unched tears', I could almost shed them," said the much-tried teacher; and all because a certain Molly Brown had a cousin Philippe who was kind enough to see that she heard all the lectures worth while at the Sorbonne.
Mrs. Brown decided to take Molly into her confidence and divulge to her her ideas concerning Elise and Mr. Kinsella. Molly was astonished and delighted.
"Oh, mother, how wise you are and how blind I am! I realize now how Elise must have suffered and all for nothing. I just know Mr. Kinsella adores her. I see it all. He went off just because he thought Elise was serious about Philippe and he could not stay to see it. How I wish he would come back and it could all be set right, and dear Elise could make up to him for all the suffering her mother caused him! I do wish I could put a flea in Judy's ear and she would behave."