Molly sat in an attitude of dejection, her face hidden in her hands, and did not seem conscious of their entrance until Elsie's hand was softly laid on her shoulder, while the pitying voice asked, "What is the matter, Molly dear?" Then the bowed head was lifted, and Elsie saw that her eyes were full of tears, her cheeks wet with them. "Oh, Cousin Elsie," she sobbed, "don't ask me to go with him. I must not. I must try to keep away from him. Oh, why did we ever meet? Shall I ever be rid of this weary pain in my heart?" "Yes, dear child, it will pass away in time," her cousin whispered, putting kind arms about her. "He must stay away, and you will learn to be happy again in your work, and, better still, in the one love that can never fail you in this world or the next." "He is a good man, don't blame him," murmured the poor girl, hiding her blushing face on her cousin's shoulder. "I will try not; but such selfish thoughtlessness is almost unpardonable. He must not come here any more." "No, no: don't tell him that! don't let him suspect that I--care whether he does or not. And he enjoys it so much, he is so lonely in his own house." "Do not fear that I will betray you, poor, dear, unselfish child," Elsie said; "but I must protect you somehow. And, Molly dear, though I believe married life is the happiest, where there is deep, true love, founded on respect and perfect confidence, I am quite sure that it is possible for a woman to be very happy though she live single all her days. There is my dear old Aunt Wealthy, for example; she must be now nearly ninety. I have known her for more than twenty years, and always as one of the cheeriest and happiest people I ever saw." "Did she ever meet any one she cared for?" Molly asked, still hiding her face. "Yes: she had a sore disappointment in her young days, as she told me herself; but the wound healed in time." Enna had seated herself in a low rocking-chair by a window, and with hands folded in her lap was keenly eying her daughter and niece. "What are you two saying to each other?" she demanded. "You talk so low I can only catch a word now and then; but I don't believe, Elsie, that you are coaxing Molly to behave as I want her to." "Poor mother!" sighed Molly; "she can't understand it." CHAPTER XV. "Man's love is of man's life a thing apart, 'Tis woman's whole existence." --_Byron._ Finding her own thoughts full of Molly and her troubles to the exclusion of everything else, Elsie presently dismissed her little ones to their play, spent a few moments in consulting her best Friend, then went in search of her father. She would not betray Molly even to him, but it would be safe, helpful, comforting to confide her own doubts, fears and anxieties.