For an instant no one spoke.  Then Cynthia said—­,

‘Oh, Molly, Molly, come and judge between us!’

Mr. Preston let go Cynthia’s hands slowly, with a look that was more of a sneer than a smile; and yet he, too, had been strongly agitated, whatever was the subject in dispute.  Molly came forwards and took Cynthia’s arm, her eyes steadily fixed on Mr. Preston’s face.  It was fine to see the fearlessness of her perfect innocence.  He could not bear her look, and said to Cynthia,—­

’The subject of our conversation does not well admit of a third person’s presence.  As Miss Gibson seems to wish for your company now, I must beg you to fix some other time and place where we can finish our discussion.’

‘I will go if Cynthia wishes me,’ said Molly.

’No, no; stay—­I want you to stay—­I want you to hear it all—­I wish I had told you sooner.’

’You mean that you regret that she has not been made aware of our engagement—­that you promised long ago to be my wife.  Pray remember that it was you who made me promise secrecy, not I you?’

’I don’t believe him, Cynthia.  Don’t, don’t cry if you can help it; I don’t believe him.’

‘Cynthia,’ said he, suddenly changing his tone to fervid tenderness, ‘pray, pray do not go on so; you can’t think how it distresses me.’  He stepped forwards to try and take her hand and soothe her; but she shrank away from him, and sobbed the more irrepressibly.  She felt Molly’s presence so much to be a protection that now she dared to let herself go, and to weaken herself by giving way to her emotion.

‘Go away!’ said Molly.  ‘Don’t you see you make her worse?’ But he did not stir; he was looking at Cynthia so intently that he did not seem even to hear her.  ‘Go,’ said Molly, vehemently, ’if it really distresses you to see her cry.  Don’t you see, it’s you who are the cause of it?’

‘I will go if Cynthia tells me,’ said he at length.

‘Oh, Molly, I do not know what to do,’ said Cynthia, taking down her hands from her tear-stained face, and appealing to Molly, and sobbing worse than ever; in fact, she became hysterical, and though she tried to speak coherently, no intelligible words would come.

‘Run to that cottage in the trees, and fetch her a cup of water,’ said Molly.  He hesitated a little.

‘Why don’t you go?’ said Molly, impatiently.

’I have not done speaking to her; you will not leave before I come back?’

‘No.  Don’t you see she can’t move in this state?’

He went quickly, if reluctantly.

Cynthia was some time before she could check her sobs enough to speak.  At length, she said,—­

‘Molly, I do hate him!’

’But what did he mean by saying you were engaged to him?  Don’t cry, dear, but tell me; if I can help you I will, but I can’t imagine what it all really is.’

’It is too long a story to tell now, and I’m not strong enough.  Look! he is coming back.  As soon as I can, let us get home.’