The second act had already commenced, and until it had ended there could be no conversation between the sisters. But when the curtain fell for the second time Mollie dried her eyes—for she had been shedding a deluge of tears—sniffed daintily at her flowers, and then asked Waveney, in a loud whisper, if Miss Althea had given her that pretty cloak.
Waveney nodded. "Yes. Is it not sweet of her? She says I am to keep it. But, Mollie, dear, yours is almost too lovely. Do you know, Miss Althea would not believe you were Mollie Ward, because you were so beautifully dressed. Cinderella is turned into a princess to-night." And then she put her lips to Mollie's ear. "Did you find out anything from the Black Prince?"
"Yes—no—oh, please hush," returned Mollie, with a distracting blush, and a timid glance at Ingram. "No, dear, he will not own to it; but, of course, I know. There! the curtain is going up again, and we shall hear if that dear girl is really dead."
Mollie had made her little attempt while she was waiting for her father and Noel. Mr. Ingram had come early, but Mollie was already dressed, and limping up and down the room; for she was far too restless to sit still.
"I have brought you some flowers," he said, simply, as he handed her the magnificent bouquet. Then, as Mollie blushed and thanked him, she carefully rehearsed the little speech that she had prepared beforehand. He was looking at her cloak, admiring it. Yes, his eyes certainly expressed decided approbation.
"Mr. Ingram," she stammered—for tact and finesse were not strong points with Mollie, "do you know I have had a great surprise. I have had such a beautiful present. It came the other night, and there was no name and no address. And I do so want to thank the kind friend who sent it."
Mr. Ingram was arranging the flowers in his buttonhole. A leaf was awry, and he was the soul of neatness. Perhaps this was why he did not look at Mollie.
"Dear me," he said, quietly. "An anonymous gift! This sounds interesting. A little mystery always enhances the value of a thing."
"Oh, do you think so?" returned Mollie, rather nonplussed by his tone. "I suppose, being a girl, I think differently about that. I am sure that I should enjoy wearing my beautiful cloak a hundred times more if I could thank the giver."
"There now," observed Ingram, in a voice of supreme satisfaction, "I did not like to ask the question for fear you should think me inquisitive. And it is really that cloak that becomes you so well—that is the mysterious present—I congratulate you, Miss Mollie, I do indeed, for I never saw you look better in my life. Upon my word, if I were ordering an evening cloak for Gwen I would choose her just such another."