And to speak contemptuously of her to Lady Stafford, of all people, whom already she likes well enough to covet her regard in return,--it is too bad. Not for worlds would she have had her think so poorly of her. At all events she will lose no time in explaining, on the morrow; and with this determination full upon her she retires to rest, with some small comfort at her heart. CHAPTER XIII. "Music hath charms." "May I come in?" says Molly, next day, knocking softly at Lady Stafford's door. "By all means," returns the plaintive voice from within; and Molly, opening the door, finds Cecil has risen, and is coming forward eagerly to meet her. "I knew your voice," says the blonde, gayly. "Come in and sit down, do. I am _ennuyee_ to the last degree, and will accept it as a positive charity if you will devote half an hour to my society." "But you are sure I am not in the way?" asks Molly, hesitating; "you are not--busy?" "Busy! Oh, what a stranger I am to you, my dear," exclaims Cecil, elevating her brows: "it is three long years since last I was busy. I am sure I wish I were: perhaps it might help me to get through the time. I have spent the last hour wondering what on earth brought me to this benighted spot, and I really don't know yet." "Grandpapa's invitation, I suppose," says Molly, laughing. "Well, yes, perhaps so; and something else,--something that I verily believe brings us all!--the fact that he has untold money, and can leave it where he pleases. There lies the secret of our yearly visitations. We outsiders don't of course hope to be the heir,--Philip is that, or Marcia, or perhaps both; but still there is a good deal of ready money going, and we all hope to be 'kindly remembered.' Each time we sacrifice ourselves by coming down here, we console ourselves by the reflection that it is at least another hundred tacked on to our legacy." "What if you are disappointed?" "I often think of that," says her ladyship, going off into a perfect peal of laughter. "Oh, the fun it would be! Think of our expressions. I assure you I spend whole hours picturing Maud Darley's face under the circumstances; you know she takes those long drives with him every day in the fond hope of cutting us all out and getting the lion's share." "Poor woman! it is sad if she has all her trouble for nothing. I do not think I should like driving with grandpapa." "I share your sentiments: neither should I. Still, there is a charm in money. Every night before going to bed I tot up on my fingers the amount of the bequest I feel I ought to receive. It has reached two thousand pounds by this. Next visit will commence a fresh thousand." "You are sanguine," says Molly. "I wonder if I shall go on hoping like you, year after year."