"There is something on her mind, something she is keeping to herself," thought Mollie, anxiously, "and we have never, never had a secret from each other. It is not like my own Wave to hide anything from me, and I shall tell her so." And, indeed, Mollie was so tearful and pleading, so pertinacious in her questions, and so quick and clever in her surmises, that before they returned to the Red House Waveney's poor little secret--her unfinished story--was in Mollie's keeping. Mollie was full of tender sympathy. She cried bitterly over Waveney's description of that meeting by the river. She quaked and shivered,--was hot and cold by turns with excitement. "Of course he cares for you, darling," she said, putting her arms round her sister's neck. "How can he help it? Oh, it will all come right," she continued, cheerfully. "One day you will be as happy as we are. What a pity he is so poor and proud! Men are so blind. It would be so much nicer to be engaged, and wait--oh, any number of years," went on Mollie, with womanly philosophy. But to this Waveney made no answer. Perhaps in her secret heart she was glad Mollie knew. Never in their lives had they had a thought unshared by the other. But when Mollie was alone she made a naughty little _mouche_. "How can she care for that plain, old-looking man?" she said to herself. "Why, I should be frightened to speak to him, he looks so grave. Waveney is a hundred times too good for him. 'A noticeable man, with large grey eyes,' is not to my taste," went on Mollie, with a blissful remembrance of her own dear Monsieur Blackie. CHAPTER XXXVIII. MOLLIE'S PRINCE. "And, while now she wonders blindly, Nor the meaning can divine, Proudly turns he round and kindly: 'All of this is thine and mine.'" _The Lord of Burleigh._ "It is all arranged about the picnic," exclaimed Mollie, in a joyous voice, as she entered their bedroom, where Waveney was busy packing her own and Mollie's things. It was the last day before their return to town. Moritz had come down unexpectedly the previous evening, and had paid his usual morning visit; he had gone back to the hotel to write his letters, and had promised to join them on the Parade later on.