Why, she thought, should such a great person as Sir Edmund Grosse, who was certainly in no need of fortune-hunting, be so attentive to Molly if he did not really like her?  At times she had a notion that he did not like her at all, but at other times surely he liked her more than he knew himself.  He said that she was graceful, clever, and interesting; and the acute little onlooker had not the shadow of a doubt that he held these opinions, but why did she at moments think that he disliked Molly?  Certainly the dislike, if dislike it were, did not prevent him from very constantly seeking her society.  It was the only intimacy that Molly had formed since she had come up to London.

As Lent was drawing to a close, Mrs. Delaport Green became much occupied at the thought of how many services she wished to attend.  “One does so wish one could be in several churches at once,” she murmured to a devout lady at an evening party.  But, finding one of these churches to be excessively crowded on Palm Sunday, she had gone for a turn in the country in her motor with a friend, “as, after all, green fields, and a few early primroses make one realise, more than anything else in the world, the things one wishes one could think about quietly at such seasons.”

For Easter there were the happiest prospects, as she and Molly had been invited to stay at a delightful house “far from the madding crowd”—­Groombridge Castle—­with a group of dear friends.

Molly, knowing that “dear friends” with her hostess meant new and most desirable acquaintances, bought hats adorned with spring flowers and garments appropriate to the season with great satisfaction.

Their luggage, their bags, and their maid looked perfect on the day of departure, and Tim had gone off to Brighton in an excellent temper.  Mrs. Delaport Green trod on air in pretty buckled shoes, and patted the toy terrier under her arm and felt as if all the society papers on the bookstall knew that they would soon have to tell whither she was going.

“I saw Sir Edmund Grosse’s servant just now,” she said to Molly with great satisfaction.  “Very likely Sir Edmund is coming to Groombridge.  Why does one always think that everybody going by the same train is coming with one?  Did you tell him where we were going?”

“No, I don’t think so; I have hardly seen him for a week, and I thought he was going abroad for Easter.”

When the three hours’ journey was ended and the friends emerged on the platform, they were both glad to see Sir Edmund’s servant again and the luggage with his master’s name.  There was a crowd of Easter holiday visitors, and Mrs. Delaport Green and Molly were some moments in making their way out of the station.  When they were seated in the carriage that was to take them to the Castle, Mrs. Delaport Green turned expectantly to the footman.

“Are we to wait for any one else?”

“No, ma’am; Lady Rose Bright and the two gentlemen have started in the other carriage.”