n. Here he is."

Mr. Potts, having carefully removed all traces of his handiness, gazes
with recovered courage on the coming foe.

"Have some tea, grandpapa," says Marcia, attentively, ignoring Mr.
Buscarlet.

"No, thank you. Mr. Buscarlet will probably have some, if he is asked,"
says grandpapa, severely.

"Ah, thank you; thank you. I will take a little tea from Miss Amherst's
fair hands," says the man of law, rubbing his own ecstatically as he
speaks.

"Mr. Longshanks, give this to Mr. Buscarlet," says Marcia, turning to
Longshanks with a cup of tea, although Mr. Buscarlet is at her other
elbow, ready to receive it from her "fair hands."

Mr. Longshanks does as he is bidden; and the attorney, having received
it, walks away discomfited, a fresh score against this haughty hostess
printed on his heart. He has the good luck to come face to face with
pretty Molly, who is never unkind to any one but the man who loves her.
They have met before, so he has no difficulty about addressing her,
though, after his rebuff from Marcia, he feels some faint pangs of
diffidence.

"Is it not a glorious evening?" he says, with hesitation, hardly
knowing how he will be received; "what _should_ we all do but for
the weather?"

"Is it not?" says Molly, with the utmost cheerfulness, smiling on him.
She is so sorry for his defeat, which she witnessed, that her smile is
one of her kindest. "If this weather might only continue, how happy we
should be. Even the flowers would remain with us." She holds up the
white rose in her hand for his admiration.

"A lovely flower, but not so lovely as its possessor," says this
insufferable old lawyer, with a smirk.

"Oh, Mr. Buscarlet! I doubt you are a sad flirt," says Miss Molly, with
an amused glance. "What would Mrs. Buscarlet say if she knew you were
going about paying compliments all round?"

"Not all round, Miss Massereene, pardon me. There is a power about
beauty stronger than any other,--a charm that draws one out of one's
self." With a fat obeisance he says this, and a smile he means to be
fascinating.

Molly laughs. In her place Marcia would have shown disgust; but Molly
only laughs--a delicious laugh, rich with the very sweetest, merriest
music. She admits even to herself she is excessively amused.

"Thank you," she says. "Positively you deserve anything for so pretty a
speech. I am sorry I have nothing better to offer, but--you shall have
my rose."

Still smiling, she goes cl