Hugh Ingelow was touched to the core of
his heart.
"I know it, my poor little girl! It is enough to drive any one out of
his senses. But let us see if we can't outwit the crafty Oleander. Put
your bonnet on and come."
Mollie paused suddenly, and looked first at him, then at Mrs. Susan
Sharpe, then back again.
"Well, Miss Dane," said Mr. Ingelow, "you're not afraid to come with
me?"
"Afraid?" the blue eyes turned upon him with an eloquent glance. "Oh,
no! But she--Mrs. Sharpe--"
"Is coming, too, of course, to play propriety," laughed Hugh. "Mrs.
Sharpe," turning to that demure lady, "put on your fixings and let us
fly!"
Mrs. Sharpe nodded, and turned to go into her own room.
"There's Miss Dane's things," she said, pointing to the pegs on which
they hung. "I'll be back in two minutes."
Mr. Ingelow took them down, and tenderly wrapped the long mantle about
the slender, girlish figure.
"Are you sure you will be warm enough, Mollie?--I beg your pardon--Miss
Dane."
"Ah, call me Mollie!" the eloquent glance once more. "How good you are
to me, Mr.
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