The strangest, smile sat on her arrogant face as she looked steadfastly
at Mollie's flowing yellow curls.
"I married that mysterious pair," went on the clergyman--"Ernest and
Mary. There were two witnesses--my respectable young woman and the
coachman; there was the ring--everything necessary and proper."
Mollie's left hand was on the table. A plain, thick band of gold gleamed
on the third finger. She hastily snatched it away, but not before Mrs.
Walraven's black eyes saw it.
"I was brought home," concluded the clergyman, "and left standing, as
morning broke, close to my own door, and I have never heard or seen my
mysterious masks since. There's an adventure for you!"
The ladies rose from the table. As they passed into the drawing-room,
a hand fell upon Mollie's shoulder. Glancing back, she saw the face of
Mrs. Carl Walraven, lighted with a malicious smile.
"Such a queer story, Mollie! And such an odd bride--undersized, very
slender, golden ringlets--name, Mary! My pretty Cricket, I think I know
where you passed that mysterious fortnight!"
CHAPTER XI.
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