"Go away, Susan. Clara, dear, I'm sorry that the day should be such a hot one, but you will it so refreshing in the summerhouse." "You have quite a nice garden," said Clara, in a patronising voice, but Mabel turned and looked full at Molly. "Did your servant say your mother wanted you?" "Oh, there's no hurry," said Molly, who felt all her calm forsaking her, and crimson spots rising to her cheeks. "Oh, do go, please," said Clara. "Here's Ethel; she will look after us. Oh, what good strawberries; I'm ever so thirsty! Run along, Molly, you must go if your mother wants you." "Of course you must," said Jim. "You must go at once, please," said Clara. "Do go. I heard what the servant said, she was in quite a state, poor thing." Thus adjured Molly went away. It is true she kept her temper until she got out of sight of her guests; but once in the house her fury broke bounds. She was really scarcely accountable for her actions for a minute or two. Then she went upstairs and entered her mother's room with anything but a soothing manner to the poor invalid. "Is that you, Nesta?" said Mrs Aldworth, who from her position, on the sofa could not see who had entered the room. "No," said Molly, "it's not Nesta, it is I, Molly, and it is not my day to be with you, mother. We have friends in the garden. Please, what is the matter? I can't stay now, really; I can't possibly stay." "Oh, Molly, oh, I am ill, I am ill," said Mrs Aldworth. "Oh, this is too much. Oh, my head, my head! The salts, Molly, the salts! I am going to faint; my heart is stopping! Oh, let some one go for the doctor--my heart is stopping!" Molly knelt by her parent; for a minute or two she was really alarmed, for the flush had died from Mrs Aldworth's face, and she lay panting and breathless on her sofa. But when Molly bent over her and kissed her, and said: "Poor little mother, here are the salts; now you are better, are you not? Poor mother!" Mrs Aldworth revived; tears rose to her eyes, she looked full at her child. "You do look pretty," she said, "very, very pretty. I never saw you in that dress before." "Oh, mothery, it is too bad," said Molly, her own grievances returning the moment she perceived that her mother was better. "It's that wicked little Nesta. Oh, mother, what punishment shall we give her?" "But tell me," said Mrs Aldworth earnestly, "what is the matter? What are you doing?" "Mother, you won't be angry--you know you are so fond of us, and we are so devoted to you. Oh, if you would excuse me, and let me go down and pour out tea for them. They are, my dear darling, Clay and Mabel Carter, and we have tea in the summerhouse, and it's so nice." "Dear me," said Mrs Aldworth, "tea in the summerhouse, and you never told me?" "It was our own little private tea, mother. We thought it was our day off, and that you wouldn't want us." "And you didn't want me," said Mrs Aldworth.