MOLLY BAWN. 21
' Do you expect me to say that I found you " prosy " ?'
' If you will be so very kind.—And you are quite sure
no one could accuse me of taking advantage of John's and
Letty's absence to be frivolous in my conversation 1'
* Utterly positive.'
' And you will tell John what a sedate and gentle com¬
panion I was ?'
* I will indeed, and more—much more.'
' On the contrary, not a word more; if you do you will
spoil all. And now,' says Molly, with a little soft, lingering
emile, ' as a reward for your promises, come with me to the
top of yonder hill, and I will show you a lovely view.'
' Is it not delicious here ?' suggests Mr. Luttrell, who
can scarcely be called energetic, and who finds it a difficult
matter to grow enthusiastic over landscapes when oppressed
by a broiling sun.
' What! tu-ed already ?' says Molly, with fine disregard
' No, oh, no,' weakly.
'But you are,' reproachfully. 'You are quite done up,
Why, what would you do if you were ordered on a long
day's march ?'
' I daresay I should survive it,' says Tedcastle shortly,
who is rather offended at her putting it in this light,
' Well, perhaps you might; but you certainly would
have nothing to boast of. Now, look at me : I am as fresh
as when we started.' And in truth as she stands before
him, in her sky-blue gown, he sees she is as cool, and bright,
and unruffled as when they left the house three-quarters of
an hour ago. ' Well,' with a resigned sigh that speaks of
disappointment, ' stay here until I run up—I love the place
—and I will join you afterwards.'
' Not I!' indignantly. ' I'm good yet for so much
exertion, and I don't believe I could exist without you for
so long. " Call, and I follow—I follow," even though " I
die,"' he adds to himself in a tone of melancholy.
Up the short but steep hill they toil in silence. Half¬
way Miss Massereene pauses, either to recover breath or to
' On the top there is always a breeze,' she says in the
voice one adopts when determined to impress upon the
listener what one's own heart knows to be doubtful.