"Oh, Hugh! am I really and truly--your very wife?"
"My very own--my darling Mollie--my precious little bride, as fast as
Church and State and Mr. Rashleigh can make you."
"Oh, Hugh, it was a shame!"
"I know it, Mollie--a dreadful shame! But you'll be a Christian, won't
you, and try to forgive me?"
"I'll try, but I'm afraid it is impossible. And all the time I thought
it was Doctor Oleander. Oh, Hugh, you've no idea how miserable I was."
There was a mysterious twinkle in Hugh's eyes.
"Almost as miserable as at present, Mollie?"
"Yes; more so, if such a thing be possible. It's shocking to carry off a
girl like that, and marry her against her will. Nobody in this world,
but an angel like myself, would ever forgive you."
"Which is equivalent to saying you do forgive me. Thousand thanks, Mrs.
Ingelow. Tell me, would you ever have forgiven Guy Oleander?"
"You know I wouldn't," Mollie answered, blushing beautifully at her new
name; "but, then, you're different."
"How, Mollie?"
"Well--well, you see I hate Doctor Oleander, and I don't hate you.
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