'How are you now, my dear? You look better than you did under the
cedar-tree. So you're to stop here to-night? Clare, don't you think we
could find some of those books of engravings that would interest Miss
Gibson.'

Mrs. Kirkpatrick came gliding up to the place where Molly stood; and
began petting her with pretty words and actions, while Lady Cuxhaven
turned over heavy volumes in search of one that might interest the
girl.

'Poor darling! I saw you come into the dining-room, looking so shy; and
I wanted you to come near me, but I could not make a sign to you,
because Lord Cuxhaven was speaking to me at the time, telling me about
his travels. Ah, here is a nice book--_Lodge's Portraits_; now I'll sit
by you and tell you who they all are, and all about them. Don't trouble
yourself any more, dear Lady Cuxhaven; I'll take charge of her; pray
leave her to me!'

Molly grew hotter and hotter as these last words met her car. If they
would only leave her alone, and not labour at being kind to her; would
'not trouble themselves' about her! These words of Mrs Kirkpatrick's
seemed to quench the gratitude she was feeling to Lady Cuxhaven for
looking for something to amuse her. But, of course, it was a trouble,
and she ought never to have been there.

By-and-by, Mrs. Kirkpatrick was called away to accompany Lady Agnes'
song; and then Molly really had a few minutes' enjoyment. She could
look round the room, unobserved, and, sure, never was any place out of
a king's house so grand and magnificent. Large mirrors, velvet
curtains, pictures in their gilded frames, a multitude of dazzling