"
She looked at him wonderingly, but in no fear.
"A drive," she repeated. "Where?"
"Only to Harlem--not quite out of the world," with a smile. "The
carriage is waiting. Go put on your bonnet, and come."
"It is very odd," thought Mollie.
But she obeyed implicitly, and in five minutes they were rattling along
over the stony streets.
"Won't you tell me now?" the young lady asked.
"Not yet. Let the mystery develop itself as it does in a novel. Trust to
me, and prepare for a great shock."
She gazed at him, utterly unable to comprehend. He was smiling, but he
was strangely pale.
"It is no jest, surely," Mollie said. "It is something serious. You look
as though it were."
"Heaven knows I never was more serious in my life. Don't ask any more
questions now, Mollie; but if I have ever done you the slightest
service, try to bear it in mind. You will need to remember it shortly,
and I will stand sorely in want of all your magnanimity."
He said no more, and Mollie sat in a dazed state, but still happy, as
she ever must be by his side. And on, and on, and on they rattled, and
the city was left behind, and they were driving through the quiet of
Harlem, green and pretty in its summery freshness.
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