Go! was there a question of it in Molly’s mind, as she stood up quivering, sparkling, almost crying out loud.  She was brought to her senses, though, by Mrs. Kirkpatrick’s next words,

’You must go and wish Lady Cumnor good-night, you know, my dear, and thank her ladyship for her kindness to you, She is there, near that statue, talking to Mr. Courtenay.’

Yes! she was there—­forty feet away—­a hundred miles away!  All that blank space had to be crossed; and then a speech to be made!

‘Must I go?’ asked Molly, in the most pitiful and pleading voice possible.

’Yes; make haste about it; there is nothing so formidable in it, is there?’ replied Mrs. Kirkpatrick, in a sharper voice than before, aware that they were wanting her at the piano, and anxious to get the business in hand done as soon as possible.

Molly stood still for a minute, then, looking up, she said, softly,—­

‘Would you mind coming with me, please?’

‘No! not I!’ said Mrs. Kirkpatrick, seeing that her compliance was likely to be the most speedy way of getting through the affair; so she took Molly’s hand, and, on the way, in passing the group at the piano, she said, smiling, in her pretty genteel manner,—­

’Our little friend here is shy and modest, and wants me to accompany her to Lady Cumnor to wish good-night; her father has come for her, and she is going away.’

Molly did not know how it was afterwards, but she pulled her hand out of Mrs. Kirkpatrick’s on hearing these words, and going a step or two in advance came up to Lady Cumnor, grand in purple velvet, and dropping a curtsey, almost after the fashion of the school-children, she said,—­

’My lady, papa is come, and I am going away; and, my lady, I wish you good-night, and thank you for your kindness.  Your ladyship’s kindness, I mean,’ she said, correcting herself as she remembered Miss Browning’s particular instructions as to the etiquette to be observed to earls and countesses, and their honourable progeny, as they were given this morning on the road to the Towers.

She got out of the saloon somehow; she believed afterwards, on thinking about it, that she had never bidden good-by to Lady Cuxhaven, or Mrs. Kirkpatrick, or ‘all the rest of them,’ as she irreverently styled them in her thoughts.

Mr. Gibson was in the housekeeper’s room, when Molly ran in, rather to the stately Mrs. Brown’s discomfiture.  She threw her arms round her father’s neck.  ‘Oh, papa, papa, papa!  I am so glad you have come;’ and then she burst out crying, stroking his face almost hysterically as if to make sure he was there.

’Why, what a noodle you are, Molly!  Did you think I was going to give up my little girl to live at the Towers all the rest of her life?  You make as much work about my coming for you, as if you thought I had.  Make haste now, and get on your bonnet.  Mrs. Brown, may I ask you for a shawl, or a plaid, or a wrap of some kind to pin about her for a petticoat?’