e of herself.

"It is Mollie!" she cried. "It is Mollie, and here is Gerald Chandos!"

For at the door of a bookseller's she was just near-ing stood the
gentleman in question, holding a periodical in his hand, and evidently
awaiting an arrival.

He caught sight of Mollie almost as soon as she did herself, and
the instant he saw her he hurried toward her, and by the time Miss
MacDowlas's carriage rolled slowly up to them, in its usual stately
fashion, he was holding the small disreputable glove Mollie had just
taken out of the convenient jacket pocket, and the fair culprit herself
was listening to his eager greeting with the old, bright, uncontrollable
blushes, and the old dangerous trick of drooping brown-fringed eyelids,
and half-shy, half-wilful air. Dolly instinctively called to her almost
aloud. She could not resist the impulse.

"Mollie!" she said. "Mollie!"

But, of course, Mollie did not hear her, and the carriage passed her,
and Dolly sank back into her corner catching her breath.

"It was not a mistake," she said; "it was true. It is worse than I
thought. Miss MacDowlas was right. It was no accident which brought them
both here. He is a cowardly scoundrel and is playing upon her ignorance.
If I had believed in him before, I should know that he is not to be
trusted now. She is walking on the edge of a precipice, and she thinks
she is safe and never dreams of its existence. Oh, Mollie! Mollie! the
world means nothing to you yet, and it is we who have to show you all
the thorns!"

She finished her errands and drove homeward as quickly as possible. She
could think of nothing but Mollie, and by the time she reached Barbrazon
Lodge her head ached with the unpleasant excitement. The servant who
opened the door met her with a piece of information. Mr. Gowan had
called to see her on some special business, and was awaiting her arrival
in the drawing-room. He had been there almost an hour.

She did not go to her room at all, but ran up-stairs to the drawing-room
quickly, feeling still more anxious. It was just possible that somebody
was ill, and Ralph Gowan had come to break the news to her because no
one else had been at liberty. With this idea uppermost, she opened the
door and advanced toward him, looking pale and troubled.

He met her half-way, and took her outstretched hand, looking troubled
himself.

"You are not very well," he said at once. "I am sorry to see that." And
his voice told her immediately th