Molly very heartily hoped that she might never be known any better by the stern-looking lady who sate so uprightly in the easy chair, prepared for lounging, and which therefore gave all the more effect to the stiff attitude.  Lady Cumnor luckily took Molly’s silence for acquiescent humility, and went on speaking after a further little pause of inspection.

’Yes, yes, I like her looks, Clare.  You may make something of her.  It will be a great advantage to you, my dear, to have a lady who has trained up several young people of quality always about you just at the time when you are growing up.  I’ll tell you what, Clare!’—­a sudden thought striking her,—­’you and she must become better acquainted—­you know nothing of each other at present; you are not to be married till Christmas, and what could be better than that she should go back with you to Ashcombe!  She would be with you constantly, and have the advantage of the companionship of your young people, which would be a good thing for an only child!  It’s a capital plan; I’m very glad I thought of it!’

Now it would be difficult to say which of Lady Cumnor’s two hearers was the most dismayed at the idea which had taken possession of her.  Mrs. Kirkpatrick had no fancy for being encumbered with a step-daughter before her time.  If Molly came to be an inmate of her house, farewell to many little background economies, and a still more serious farewell to many little indulgences, that were innocent enough in themselves, but which Mrs. Kirkpatrick’s former life had caused her to look upon as sins to be concealed:  the dirty dog’s-eared delightful novel from the Ashcombe circulating library, the leaves of which she turned over with a pair of scissors, the lounging-chair which she had for use at her own home, straight and upright as she sate now in Lady Cumnor’s presence; the dainty morsel, savoury and small, to which she treated herself for her own solitary supper,—­all these and many other similarly pleasant things would have to be foregone if Molly came to be her pupil, parlour-boarder, or visitor, as Lady Cumnor was planning.  One—­two things Clare was instinctively resolved upon:  to be married at Michaelmas, and not to have Molly at Ashcombe.  But she smiled as sweetly as if the plan proposed was the most charming project in the world, while all the time her poor brains were beating about in every bush for the reasons or excuses of which she should make use at some future time.  Molly, however, saved her all this trouble.  It was a question which of the three was the most surprised by the words which burst out of her lips.  She did not mean to speak, but her heart was very full, and almost before she was aware of her thought she heard herself saying,—­

’I don’t think it would be nice at all.  I mean, my lady, that I should dislike it very much; it would be taking me away from papa just these very few last months.  I will like you,’ she went on, her eyes full of tears; and, turning to Mrs. Kirkpatrick, she put her hand into her future stepmother’s with the prettiest and most trustful action.  ’I will try hard to love you, and to do all I can to make you happy, but you must not take me away from papa just this very last bit of time that I shall have him.’