was a play that represented a kind of female "Raffles"--a
thief in the highest ranks of society, and the lady Raffles had black
hair. The lady stole diamonds, and fascinated detectives, and even
beguiled the ruffianly burglar who had wanted the diamonds for himself.
It was a far-fetched comparison indeed, but it worried and excited Molly
to the last degree. They went back to supper at Miss Dexter's house, and
there one more lady and another man joined them. They sat at a gorgeous
little supper at a round table in the small dining-room, Mrs. Delaport
Green opposite Molly, and Lady Sophia Snaggs, a spirited, cheery
Irishwoman, separated from the hostess by Billy, with whom the latter
had always, in the past weeks, been ready to discuss the poverty and the
failings of Sir Edmund Grosse. Of the other two men, one was elderly,
bald, greedy, fat and witty, and the other was a soldier, spare, red and
rather silent but extremely popular for some happy combination of
qualities and excellent manners. It would seem hardly worth while to say
even this little about them, only that it proved of some importance that
the few people who heard Molly's words that night, and certainly
repeated them afterwards, had unfortunately rather different and rather
wide opportunities of making them known.

The Florentine looking-glasses that once belonged to Sir Edmund Grosse,
with their wondrous wreaths of painted flowers, looked down from three
sides of the room and reflected the pretty women and their gowns, the
old silver, the rare glass, and the flowers. They were probably
refreshed by the exquisite taste of the little banquet that might recall
the first reflection of their youth. Morally there was a rift within the
lute among the guests, for Molly betrayed that Adela had got on her
nerves. Lady Sophia Snaggs poured easy conversation on the troubled
waters, but at last the catastrophe could not be averted.

At a moment when the others were silent Adela was talking.

"Yes; I went to hear him preach, and it is so beautiful, you know.
Crowds; the church was packed, and many people cried. You _should_ go.
And then one feels how real it is for him to preach against the world,
because he gave up so much."

Molly drained her glass of champagne and leant across.

"Whom are you talking about?"

"Father Molyneux."

"I thought so."

"Have you heard him preach?" asked Lady Sophy.

"I used to, but I never go now." She again leant forward and spok