_Molly Looks Through Miss Lydia’s Window_ Molly led Miss Lydia into the cottage parlour—a dainty, fresh little room—and brought a chair forward into which Miss Lydia sank gratefully. “Can I get you anything? Shall I make you some tea?” suggested Molly cheerfully. There was no answer, and then she saw that Miss Lydia was crying softly to herself. “Oh, dear! I’m so sorry, Miss Lydia,” said Molly, distressed. “Oh, what can I do? Is there anything you’d like me to do?” “I don’t know what to do,” said Miss Lydia. “I feel so helpless here alone. If only I could get a message through to my sister in the City, she’d come to me immediately—if she knew. What shall I do?... You have been so good to me—it’s a shame to bother you with my troubles, though.” Molly sat down on a chair opposite to Miss Lydia, and tried to decide what to do. Molly felt very perplexed and troubled herself. It seemed cruel to leave Miss Lydia here alone in this deserted spot, and yet if she took her with her it would cause so much delay, and time was getting short now. “Have you no friends near here that I could fetch for you?” asked Molly. Miss Lydia shook her head. “No one very near. I came to live in this lonely little house away from my friends, so that I could get on with my work. I am an artist—I was an artist,” she corrected herself. “I cannot paint pictures now. I cannot watch the sun sink over the hills nor see the stars reflected in the water. What shall I do? What shall I do?” she sobbed bitterly. “Oh, don’t, don’t, Miss Lydia!” begged Molly. “Listen. I know what I’ll do. Tell me the address of the friends who live nearest here, and I will go and fetch them. I will bring them back myself—and then go on my way. You will not mind being left for a short time, will you?” “No,” said Miss Lydia. “I don’t feel I dare go out again. I will wait here. You are so good to me. I do hope I am not giving you too much trouble.” By this time Molly had quite made up her mind that Miss Lydia was sincere; no doubt of her sincerity entered Molly’s mind until happening to glance out of the window she saw some one dodge out of sight behind a bush in the garden—some one with a red scarf bound round her head.