"Yes,"--sternly,--"and with cause. I do not relish coming upon you suddenly and finding you in Shadwell's arms." "Where?" "Well, if not exactly in his arms, very nearly there," says Tedcastle, vehemently. "You are forgetting yourself." Coldly. "If you are jealous of Philip, say so, but do not disgrace yourself by using coarse language. There was a bit of bark in my eyes. I suppose you think it would have been better for me to endure torments than allow Philip--who was very kind--to take it out? If you do, I differ from you." "I am not speaking alone of this particular instance in which you seem to favor Shadwell," says the young man, moodily, his eyes fixed upon the sward beneath him. "Every day it grows more palpable. You scarcely care to hide your sentiments now." "You mean"--impatiently--"you would wish me to speak to no one except you. You don't take into account how slow this would be for me." She says this cruelly. "I care no more for Philip than I do for any other man." "Just so. I am the other man, no doubt. I have never been blind to the fact that you do not care for me. Why take the trouble of acting a part any longer?" "'Acting a part'! Nonsense!" says Molly. "I always think that the most absurd phrase in the world. Who does not act a part? The thing is to act a good one." "Is yours a good part?" Bitterly. "You are the best judge of that," returns she, haughtily. "If you do not think so, why keep to our engagement? If you wish to break it, you need fear no opposition from me." So saying, she sweeps past him and enters the house. Yet in spite of her anger and offended pride, her eyes are wet and her hands trembling as she reaches Cecil's room and lays the snow-white flowers upon her table. Cecil is still lying comfortably ensconced among her pillows, but has sufficient wakefulness about her to notice Molly's agitation. "You have been quarreling, _ma belle_," she says, raising herself on her elbow; "don't deny it. Was it with Marcia or Tedcastle?" "Tedcastle," Molly replies, laughing against her will at the other's shrewdness, and in consequence wiping away a few tears directly afterward. "It is nothing; but he is really intolerably jealous, and I can't and won't put up with it." "Oh, that some one was jealous about me!" says Cecil, with a prolonged sigh. "Go on." "It was nothing, I tell you. All because Philip kindly picked a little bit of dust out of my eye." "How good of Philip! considering all the dust you have thrown into his of late. And Ted objected?" "Yes, and was very rude into the bargain. I wouldn't have believed it of him." "Well, you know yourself you have been going on anyhow with Philip during the past few days."