‘I don’t understand French.  I’m only Molly Gibson, ma’am.’

‘Molly Gibson!’ said the lady, out loud; as if that was not much of an explanation.

Lord Cumnor caught the words and the tone.

‘Oh, ho!’ said he.  ’Are you the little girl who has been sleeping in my bed?’

He imitated the deep voice of the fabulous bear, who asks this question of the little child in the story; but Molly had never read the ’Three Bears,’ and fancied that his anger was real; she trembled a little, and drew nearer to the kind lady who had beckoned her as to a refuge.  Lord Cumnor was very fond of getting hold of what he fancied was a joke, and working his idea threadbare; so all the time the ladies were in the room he kept on his running fire at Molly, alluding to the Sleeping Beauty, the Seven Sleepers, and any other famous sleeper that came into his head.  He had no idea of the misery his jokes were to the sensitive girl, who already thought herself a miserable sinner, for having slept on, when she ought to have been awake.  If Molly had been in the habit of putting two and two together, she might have found an excuse for herself, by remembering that Mrs. Kirkpatrick had promised faithfully to awaken her in time; but all the girl thought of was, how little they wanted her in this grand house; how she must seem like a careless intruder who had no business there.  Once or twice she wondered where her father was, and whether he was missing her; but the thought of the familiar happiness of home brought such a choking in her throat, that she felt she must not give way to it, for fear of bursting out crying; and she had instinct enough to feel that, as she was left at the Towers, the less trouble she gave, the more she kept herself out of observation, the better.

She followed the ladies out of the dining-room, almost hoping that no one would see her.  But that was impossible, and she immediately became the subject of conversation between the awful Lady Cumnor and her kind neighbour at dinner.

’Do you know, I thought this young lady was French when I first saw her? she has got the black hair and eyelashes, and grey eyes, and colourless complexion which one meets with in some parts of France, and I knew Lady Cuxhaven was trying to find a well-educated girl who would be a pleasant companion to her children.’

‘No!’ said Lady Cumnor, looking very stern, as Molly thought.  ’She is the daughter of our medical man at Hollingford; she came with the school visitors this morning, and she was overcome by the heat and fell asleep in Clare’s room, and somehow managed to oversleep herself, and did not waken up till all the carriages were gone.  We will send her home to-morrow morning, but for to-night she must stay here, and Clare is kind enough to say she may sleep with her.’

There was an implied blame running through this speech, that Molly felt like needle-points all over her.  Lady Cuxhaven came up at this moment.  Her tone was as deep, her manner of speaking as abrupt and authoritative, as her mother’s, but Molly felt the kinder nature underneath.