Alpha Book

If I lose Mollie, life is not worth the having."
He rose to go. Mr. Walraven folded up the mysterious epistle and handed
it back.
"I see it is postmarked in the city. If the writer really knows aught of
Mollie, she must be nearer at hand than we imagine. Would to Heaven the
week were up."
"Then you have faith in this?" said the baronet, looking astonished.
"I have hope, my dear sir. It is very easy believing in what we wish to
come true. There may be something in it. Who knows?"
The baronet shook his head.
"I wish I could think so. I sometimes fear we will never see her again.
Poor child! Poor little Mollie! Heaven only knows what you may not have
suffered ere this!"
"Let us not despair. Pray, resume your seat. I am quite alone this
stormy night, Sir Roger. Mrs. Walraven has gone to the opera."
But the baronet moved resolutely to the door.
"Thanks, Mr. Walraven; but I am fit company for no one. I have been
utterly miserable since that fatal night. I can find rest nowhere. I
will not inflict my wearisome society upon you, my friend.


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