"Frightened about me?" said Molly in astonishment.

"You had no thought for _my_ anxiety--the strain on _my_ nerves," her
aunt went on.

"I thought you might be angry, but I never for a moment thought you
would be frightened."

Miss Carew looked from one to the other in alarm and perplexity. She
felt for them both, for the woman who had been startled by the extent of
her fears, and was the more angry in consequence, and for Molly, who
betrayed her utter want of belief in any kind of feeling on Mrs.
Carteret's part.

"If you do not care for my feelings, or, indeed, believe in them, I wish
you would have some care for your own good name." A moment's pause
followed these words, and then in a low voice, but quite distinct, came
the conclusion, "You must remember that your mother's daughter must be
more careful than other girls."

Molly's cheeks, just now bright from the battle with the autumn wind,
became as white as marble. There was no concealment possible; both women
saw that the child realised the full import of the words, and that she
knew they could read what was written on her face. There could be no
possibility of keeping up appearances after such a moment. But Miss
Carew moved forward, and flung her arms round Molly with a gesture of
simple but complete womanliness. "You must have a hot bath at once," she
cried, "or you will catch your death of cold."

"Perhaps it would be better if I did," cried Molly in a voice fearful to