Poor Mollie. All this glib talk bewildered her, but she was far too grateful, and too much in earnest, to give up her point, so she only raised her lovely eyes to Ingram and said, very wistfully,—
"You could not help me to find out. I do so want to know." But Ingram only shrugged his shoulders: he even looked a trifle bored.
"You may ask me anything else, Miss Mollie, but I assure you I should make a bad detective. Why," he continued, airily, "I find it difficult enough to keep my own secrets, without finding out other people's. Oh, here comes our friend the humourist. And now may I beg to inform you that Monsieur Blackie's carriage stops the way."
Waveney did not return to her friends' box, and at the conclusion of the play they all met in the lobby. Waveney was hanging on her father's arm, but he disengaged himself hastily when he saw the sisters.
Althea, who had been nerving herself for this moment all the evening, was only a little paler than usual as she held out her hand to him.
"It is a great many years since we met, Mr. Ward," she said, with a grave smile.
"Yes," he returned, looking at her with equal gravity; but his eyes were sad. "More than twenty years, I think;" and then he shook hands with Doreen rather stiffly, while Althea spoke to Mollie and Noel.
"I should like you to come and see me, my dear," she said to the delighted girl. "Would next Tuesday suit you? Waveney shall come over in the carriage and fetch you. And perhaps your brother would join you, and take you back in the evening," And Mollie accepted this invitation with great readiness.
Everard, who had overheard this, came a step nearer.
"I must take this opportunity of thanking you for your kindness to my dear child," he said, with strong feeling in his voice. "It was hard to part with her, but you make her so happy that Mollie and I try to be resigned to her loss."