final step taken by the heir. Molly, looking up at the great castle, on
her homeward drive, with its massive towers and its most commanding
position, had felt more and more impressed by an action on so big a
scale. It was impossible to be at Groombridge and not to feel the great
and noble opportunities its possession must give any remarkable man; and
the man who could give up such opportunities must be a very remarkable
man indeed. In Molly's self-engrossed life it had something of the same
effect as a great thunderstorm among mountains would have had in the
physical order.

And to-night it came over her again, and she seemed to be listening to
the echoes of a far vibrating sound. And might there not be happiness
for Mark Molyneux? Might it not be happiness for herself to give up the
wretched, uncomfortable fight that life so often seemed to be, and to
let loose the Molly who could toil and go sleepless and be happy, if she
could achieve any diminution of bodily pain in man or woman, child or
beast?

The dawn lightened; one or two rabbits stirred in the bracken in the
near park--this was peace. Then Molly smiled tenderly at the dawn. There
might come another solution in which life would be unselfish without
such acute sacrifice, and in which evil possibilities would be starved
for lack of temptation. And all that was good would grow in the
sunshine.

And the sleeping scullerymaid smiled also.