’Nonsense.  Don’t let us go on talking about it, Cynthia!  I have said all that I mean to say.  I believe that you were only thoughtless, as I told you before.  But don’t let it happen again.’  He left the room at once, to put a stop to the conversation, the continuance of which would serve no useful purpose, and perhaps end by irritating him.

’"Not guilty, but we recommend the prisoner not to do it again.”  It’s pretty much that, isn’t it, Molly?’ said Cynthia, letting her tears downfall, even while she smiled.  ’I do believe your father might make a good woman of me yet, if he would only take the pains, and was not quite so severe.  And to think of that stupid little fellow making all this mischief He pretended to take it to heart, as if he had loved me for years instead of only for days.  I daresay only for hours if the truth were told.’

‘I was afraid he was becoming very fond of you,’ said Molly; ’at least it struck me once or twice; but I knew he could not stay long, and I thought it would only make you uncomfortable if I said anything about it.  But now I wish I had!’

‘It would not have made a bit of difference,’ replied Cynthia.  ’I knew he liked me, and I like to be liked; it’s born in me to try to make every one I come near fond of me; but then they should not carry it too far, for it becomes very troublesome if they do.  I shall hate red-haired people for the rest of my life.  To think of such a man as that being the cause of your father’s displeasure with me!’

Molly had a question at her tongue’s end that she longed to put; she knew it was indiscreet, but at last out it came almost against her will.

‘Shall you tell Roger about it?’

Cynthia replied, ’I have not thought about it—­no!  I don’t think I shall—­there’s no need.  Perhaps, if we are ever married—­’

‘Ever married!’ said Molly, under her breath.  But Cynthia took no notice of the exclamation until she had finished the sentence which it interrupted.

’—–­and I can see his face, and know his mood, I may tell it him then; but not in writing, and when he is absent; it might annoy him.’

‘I am afraid it would make him uncomfortable,’ said Molly, simply.  ’And yet it must be so pleasant to be able to tell him everything—­all your difficulties and troubles.’

’Yes; only I don’t worry him with these things; it is better to write him merry letters, and cheer him up among the black folk.  You repeated “Ever married,” a little while ago; do you know, Molly, I don’t think I ever shall be married to him?  I don’t know why, but I have a strong presentiment, so it’s just as well not to tell him all my secrets, for it would be awkward for him to know them if it never came off!’

Molly dropped her work, and sate silent, looking into the future; at length she said, ‘I think it would break his heart, Cynthia!’

’Nonsense.  Why, I am sure that Mr. Coxe came here with the intention of falling in love with you—­you need not blush so violently.  I am sure you saw it as plainly as I did, only you made yourself disagreeable, and I took pity on him, and consoled his wounded vanity.’