s hurry, and joined her
and carried her off, looking very guilty and charming, and a trifle
reluctant, I must admit."

Dolly's cheeks flushed, and her heart began to beat hotly. If this was
the case it was simply disgraceful, and Miss Mollie was allowing herself
to be led too far.

"I am sorry to hear this," she said to Miss Mac-Dowlas, "but I am
indebted to you for telling me. I will attend to it when I go home on
Thursday, and," with a flash of fire, "if it is needful I will attend to
Mr. Gerald Chandos himself."

She entered the carriage, feeling hot with anger and distress. She had
not expected such a blow, even though she had told herself that she was
prepared to hear of any romantic imprudence. And then in the midst of
her anger she began to pity Mollie, as it seemed natural to pity her
always when she was indiscreet. Who had ever taught her to be discreet,
poor child? Had she herself? No, she had not. She had been fond of her
and proud of her beauty, but she had laughed at her unsophisticated,
thoughtless way with the rest, and somehow they had all looked upon
her as they looked upon Tod,--as rather a good joke. Dolly quite hated
herself as she remembered how she had related her own little escapades
for the edification of the family circle, and how Mollie had enjoyed
them more than any one else. She had never overstepped the actual
bounds of propriety herself, but she had been coquettish and fond of
admiration, and had delighted to hold her own against the world.

"I was n't a good example to her!" she cried, remorsefully. "She ought
to have had a good, wise mother. I wish she had. I wish I had one
myself."

And she burst into tears, and leaned her head against the cushioned
carriage, feeling quite overcome by her self-reproach and consciousness.
Their mother had died when Mollie was born, and they had been left to
fight their own battles ever since.

She was obliged to control herself, however. It would never do to
present herself to Pullet in tears. So she sat up and dried her eyes
with her handkerchief, and turned to the carriage window to let the
fresh air blow upon her face. But she had not been looking out
two minutes when her attention was attracted by something down the
street,--a bit of color,--a little tuft of scarlet feathers in a hat,
and then her eyes, wandering lower, recognized a well-remembered jacket
and a well-remembered dress, and then the next instant she uttered an
exclamation in spit