violently, and said, in a very low voice,--

'I don't understand French. I'm only Molly Gibson, ma'am.'

'Molly Gibson!' said the lady, out loud; as if that was not much of an
explanation.

Lord Cumnor caught the words and the tone.

'Oh, ho!' said he. 'Are you the little girl who has been sleeping in my
bed?'

He imitated the deep voice of the fabulous bear, who asks this question
of the little child in the story; but Molly had never read the 'Three
Bears,' and fancied that his anger was real; she trembled a little, and
drew nearer to the kind lady who had beckoned her as to a refuge. Lord
Cumnor was very fond of getting hold of what he fancied was a joke, and
working his idea threadbare; so all the time the ladies were in the
room he kept on his running fire at Molly, alluding to the Sleeping
Beauty, the Seven Sleepers, and any other famous sleeper that came into
his head. He had no idea of the misery his jokes were to the sensitive
girl, who already thought herself a miserable sinner, for having slept
on, when she ought to have been awake. If Molly had been in the habit
of putting two and two together, she might have found an excuse for
herself, by remembering that Mrs. Kirkpatrick had promised faithfully
to awaken her in time; but all the girl thought of was, how little they
wanted her in this grand house; how she must seem like a careless
intruder who had no business there. Once or twice she wondered where
her father was, and whether he was missing her; but the thought of the
familiar happiness of home brought such a choking in her throat, that