A deep blush overspread the dark face—­a blush of shame and hesitation, for the words, “your mother’s daughter ought to be more careful than other girls,” so often in poor Molly’s mind, were repeated there now.

“If there were an old governess, or some one of that sort,” suggested Sir Edmund, with hesitation.

“Oh yes, yes!” cried Molly eagerly; “there is one, if I could only get her.  Oh, thank you, yes!  I wonder I did not think of that before.”  And she gave a happy, youthful laugh at this solution.

“Is it some one you really care for?” asked Edmund, with growing interest.

“I don’t know about really caring”—­Molly looked puzzled—­“but she would do.  There is one thing more I wanted to ask you.  About the silly boy last night:  whom does he owe the money to?  I know nothing about bridge.”

“He owes it to Billy.”

Molly looked sorry.

“I thought, if it were to Mrs. Delaport Green——­”

“You might have paid the money?” Edmund smiled kindly at her.  “No, no, Miss Dexter, that will be all right.”

She turned from him, laughing, and went indoors to Mrs. Delaport Green’s room.

She found that lady writing letters, and the floor was scattered with them, six deep round the table.  She put her hand to her face as Molly came in.

“There are no possible trains,” said Molly, “so I’m afraid you must bear it.  Sir Edmund advises us to go by an early train to-morrow:  he thinks to-day you would be better here, as there won’t be a dentist left in London.”

“I am very brave at bearing pain, fortunately,” was the answer, “and I am trying, even now, to get on with my letters.  I think I shall go to Eastbourne to-morrow; there are always good dentists in those places.  I love the churches there, and the air will brace my nerves.  I might have gone to Brighton only Tim is there.  Will you”—­she paused a moment—­“will you come to Eastbourne too?”

Mrs. Delaport Green was not disposed to have Molly with her.  She was exceedingly annoyed at the debacle of her visit to Groombridge—­a visit which she was describing in glowing terms in her letters to all her particular friends.  It would be unpleasant to have Molly’s critical eyes upon her; she liked, and was accustomed to, people with a very different expression.

Molly, however, ignoring very patent hints with great calmness and firmness, told her that she intended to stay with her for just as long as it was necessary before finding some one to live with in a little flat in London.  She felt the possibility, at first, of Mrs. Delaport Green’s becoming insolent, but she was presently convinced that she had mastered the situation.  They agreed to go to Eastbourne together next day, and then to look for a flat for Molly in London.  The suggestion that Mrs. Delaport Green might help Molly to choose the furniture proved very soothing indeed.

Molly went down-stairs again to let Sir Edmund know they were not going to leave till next morning, and to find out if he had succeeded in speaking to Lady Groombridge.