"Here, Miss Kirkpatrick! No, it's not for you, miss!" as Molly, being

nearer to the door, offered to take it and pass it to Cynthia. "It's

for Miss Kirkpatrick; and there's a note for her besides!"

Cynthia said nothing, but took the note and the flowers. She held the

note so that Molly could read it at the same time she did.

I send you some flowers; and you must allow me to claim

the first dance after nine o'clock, before which time I

fear I cannot arrive.--R. P.

"Who is it?" asked Molly.

Cynthia looked extremely irritated, indignant, perplexed--what was it

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turned her cheek so pale, and made her eyes so full of fire?

"It is Mr. Preston," said she, in answer to Molly. "I shall not dance

with him; and here go his flowers--"

Into the very middle of the embers, which she immediately stirred

down upon the beautiful shrivelling petals as if she wished to

annihilate them as soon as possible. Her voice had never been raised;

it was as sweet as usual; nor, though her movements were prompt

enough, were they hasty or violent.

"Oh!" said Molly, "those beautiful flowers! We might have put them in

water."

"No," said Cynthia; "it's best to destroy them. We don't want them;

and I can't bear to be reminded of that man."

"It was an impertinent familiar note," said Molly. "What right had

he to express himself in that way--no beginning, no end, and only

initials! Did you know him well when you were at Ashcombe, Cynthia?"

"Oh, don't let us think any more about him," replied Cynthia. "It is

quite enough to spoil any pleasure at the ball to think that he will

be there. But I hope I shall get engaged before he comes, so that I

can't dance with him--and don't you, either!"

"There! they are calling for us," exclaimed Molly, and with quick

step, yet careful of their draperies, they made their way downstairs

to the place where Mr. and Mrs. Gibson awaited them. Yes; Mr. Gibson

was going,--even if he had to leave them afterwards to attend to any

professional call. And Molly suddenly began to admire her father

as a handsome man, when she saw him now, in full evening attire.

Mrs. Gibson, too--how pretty she was! In short, it was true that no

better-looking a party than these four people entered the Hollingford

ball-room that evening.




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