Any girl who had been abroad would have taken it as little more than the merest politeness, but to Molly it came as a surprise.  A glow of quick, deep joy rose within her; her cheeks did not blush, for this was a feeling too peaceful, too restful for blushes or any sort of discomfort.

“This young lady can run like a deerhound,” said Edmund, “and bandage like a surgeon.”

“But that’s about all she can do,” laughed Molly.  “Ah! there”—­she could not quite hide the regret in her voice—­“there are Lady Groombridge and Lady Rose.”

CHAPTER XII

MOLLY’S NIGHT WATCH

That night Molly could write it on the tablets of her mind that she had passed a nearly perfect day.  The evening had not promised to be as happy as the rest, but it had held a happy hour.  Mrs. Delaport Green had made a masterly descent just in time for dinner.  Molly smiled at the thought when alone in her room.  A beautiful tea-gown had expressed the invalid, and was most becoming.

“Every one has been so kind, dear Lady Groombridge; really, it is a temptation to be ill in this house—­everything so perfectly done.”

Lady Groombridge most distinctly grunted.

“Why is toothache so peculiarly hard to bear?” She turned to Edmund Grosse.

“It wants a good deal of philosophy certainly, especially when one’s face swells; but yours, fortunately, has not lost its usual outline.”  And he gave her a complimentary little bow.

“Oh! there you are wrong,” cried the sufferer.  “My face is very much swollen on one side.”

But she did not mention on which side the disfigurement was to be seen, and she ate an excellent dinner and talked very brightly to her host, who could not think why his wife had taken an evident dislike to the little woman.  Edmund teased her several times, and would not let her settle down into her usual state of self-content, but after dinner she wisely took refuge with the merciful Rose.

Lady Groombridge meanwhile gave Molly a dose of good advice, kindly, if a little roughly, administered.

“I was pretty and an orphan myself, and it is not very easy work; then you have money, which makes it both better and worse.  Be with wise people as much as you can; if they are a little dull it is worth while.  If you take up with any bright, amusing woman you meet, you will find yourself more worried in the long run;” and she glanced significantly at Mrs. Delaport Green.

The obvious nature of the advice, of which this remark is a sample, did not spoil it.  Sometimes it is a comfort to have the thing said to us that we quite see for ourselves.  In to-day’s unwonted mood Molly was ready to receive very ordinary wisdom as golden.

And then Lady Groombridge discovered that Molly was musical, and the older woman loved music, finding in it some of the romance which was shut out by her own limitations and by a life of over great bustle and worry.