MOLLY BAWN. 155
* Willingly, grandpapa,' says Molly, and going once more
to the piano, gladly puts the obnoxious duet away, feeling
sure its appearance has caused Tedcastle's annoyance,
' Though if he is going to be jealous so early in the game as
this,' thinks she,' ' I don't fancy I shall have an altogether
festive time of it,'
' What shall it be ?' she asks aloud.
' Nothing ItaUan, at all events,' says Mr. Amherst (all
Marcia's endeavours are in that language); 'I like some¬
thing I can understand, and I hate your runs and trills.'
' I will sing you my own song,' says Molly gaily, and
jives them ' Molly Bawn' deliciously.
' How pretty that is,' says Lady Stafford, ' and so wild,
quite Irish ! But your name after all is Eleanor, is it not ?'
' There is, I believe, a tradition in the family to that
effect,' says Molly, smiling, ' but it is used up, and no one
now pays to it the least attention. I myself much prefer
Molly. I am always called Molly Bawn at home.'
Her voice lingers on the word Home! In an instant,
amidst all the luxuries, and charms of this beautiful draw¬
ing-room at Herst, her mind goes back to the old, homely,
beloved sanctum at Brooklyn, where she sees John, and
Letty, and all the happy, merry, good-hearted children,
harmoniously mixed up together.
' It is a pity,' says Mr, Amherst, purposely, seeing an
opening for one of his cheerful remarks, 'that everything
about Ireland should be so wretchedly low,'
' It is swampy,' replies Miss Molly, promptly.
At this dangerous moment the door is thrown wide open
and a servant announces ' Mr. Potts.'
The effect is electric. Everybody looks up, and pleased,
and glad, WhUe the owner of this euphonious name comes
forward, and having shaken hands with Marcia, turns to old
' How d'ye do, sir,' he says heartUy; ' I hope you are
' Do you ?' says Mr. Amherst, unamiably, feeling still a
keen regret that the neat retort intended for MoUy must
wait another occasion, ' I would believe you if I could, but
it isn't in human nature. Yes, I am better, thank you,
much better; I daresay with care I shall last this winter,
and probably the next, and perhaps out-live a good many of