By this time Mrs. Delaport Green had made up her mind that Molly had decidedly better become Lady Grosse, and she felt that it would be a pleasing and honourable conclusion to the season if the engagement were announced before she and Molly parted. She had fleeced Molly very considerably, but she wanted her to have her money's worth, and go away content. It would take long to carry conviction as to the actual good and the possibility of further good there was in Mrs. Delaport Green. Out of reach of certain temptations she might have been quoted as a positive model of goodness and unselfish brightness. If her imitative gift had found only the highest models, she might have been a happy nun, or a quiet, stay-at-home wife and mother. But she was tossed into a social whirlpool where her instincts and her ambitions and her perceptions were all confused, and out of the depths of her little spoiled soul, had crawled a vice--probably hereditary--which might otherwise have slept. It was fast becoming known that Molly's chaperone was a thorough gambler. Sir Edmund Grosse was not unwilling to dawdle under the shade of an old wall with Mrs. Delaport Green that Saturday evening in the country. "I feel terribly responsible," she said, in her thin eager little voice; "I am sure that boy is going to propose to my protege!" "What boy?" asked Edmund, in a tone of indifference. "Edgar Tonmore." "Is Edgar here, then?" "Oh, no; it won't be at once. He has gone to Scotland, but he will be back before we leave London." "Really he is an excellent fellow. I don't see why you should be anxious." "But Molly is an orphan," she said plaintively, eyeing him quickly as she spoke. "Even so, orphans marry and live happily ever after." "But I'm not sure she will live happily." "Why not?" "I don't think she cares for him." "Then I suppose she will refuse." "But people so often make mistakes. I don't think dear Molly knows her own mind, and it is so natural that she should not confide in me as I am in her mother's place." "Leave things alone. Edgar will find out if she likes him or not." "Will he? oh well, it's a comfort that you take that view." And she then changed the topic, being of opinion that nothing more could be done with it. But no doubt the effect produced in Edmund was an increase of interest in Molly's affairs. It would be exceedingly tiresome if she should marry this attractive but penniless boy, as he knew him to be, under the impression that she possessed enough money for them both. Edmund had only that morning received certain intelligence of the whereabouts of young Akers, the son of the old stud-groom.