“But Peirce? What business has Peirce?” Jack paused, frowning still. “He knows, sure, as to Ivor?”
“Why, Jack, all the world knows! Captain Peirce has known it pretty near from the beginning.”
“And Polly permits——”
“Does Polly permit? Can Polly help it?” asked Molly. “I in her place would help it; but I am not fair like Polly, and that makes so great a difference. For her, with all the world looking and loving, ’tis not easy. If she holds aloof and seeks to check them, why, they do but come after her the more—and Polly cannot be sharp with folks. She is so sweet, and ’tis not her way. And Mrs. Bryce, too, ever talking”—Molly breathed this very low—“ever seeking to persuade Polly that Denham will forget and will care no more for her.”
Jack muttered something to himself.
“Then, ’tis her wish?”
“Mrs. Bryce’s?” Molly’s face took an arch set. “Ay, since Captain Peirce came in for a great sum of money on the death of his grandfather. He will be a richer man than Denham—by a matter of ten pounds to one pound.”
“Phew!” muttered Jack, in disgust. “Ivor will have enough. But as to Polly—I cannot verily believe that her affections are engaged in any other direction.”
“Nor do I believe it, Jack. Yet—I am not always sure.”
“If she casts him off, she will deserve to suffer for it, all her life long. She will lose one of the best men living.”