"Impossible--utterly impossible, Mollie!"
"Well, then, a month or two. I am not in any hurry to be married, and I
don't see why you should be."
"My darling little Mollie, if you loved me half as much as I love you,
you would understand. And you will really be mine in a month?"
"Or two. Yes, if you insist upon it. If I am to be Lady Trajenna first
or last, it may as well be first, I suppose."
"And you will not change your mind?"
"Of course not," said Mollie, indignantly. "When Mollie Dane gives her
word, the laws of the Medes and--what's their names?--are nothing to it.
Don't tease, Sir Roger. When I promise a thing, it's as good as done."
Mollie danced away to the piano, and held her infatuated baronet
spell-bound until luncheon time.
At table Mr. and Mrs. Walraven met them, and immediately after the meal
the baronet formally requested the pleasure of a private interview.
"Can he really be going to ask for Mollie?" thought Mr. Walraven. "Upon
my word, if he is, this is quite a new role for me--playing the part of
venerable parent, and that to a white-haired gentleman who numbers a
round score more years than myself.
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