"Nonsense, child!" speaking roughly, although consoled and strengthened by her caress and loving words. "It is what I have been wishing for all these years. Of course you must go. It is only right you should be recognized by your relations, even though it is so late in the day. Perhaps he will leave you a legacy; and"--smiling--"I think I may console myself with the reflection that old Amherst will scarcely be able to cut me out." "You may, without flattering yourself," says Luttrell. "Letitia, do you too want to get rid of me?" asks Molly, still half crying. "You are a hypocrite," says Letitia; "you know you are dying to go. I should, were I in your place. Instead of lamenting, you ought to be thanking your stars for this lucky chance that has befallen you; and you should be doubly grateful to us for letting you go, as we shall miss you horribly." "I shan't stay any time," says Molly, reviving. "I shall be back before you realize the fact that I have gone. I know in polite society no one is expected to outstay a month at the very longest." "You cover me with confusion," says Luttrell, laughing. "Consider what unmentionable form I have displayed. How long have I outstayed my time? It is uncommonly good of you, Mrs. Massereene, not to have given me my _conge_ long ago; but my only excuse is that I have been so utterly happy. Perhaps you will forgive me when you learn that I must tear myself away on Thursday." "Oh! must you?" says Letitia, honestly sorry. Now that the engagement is _un fait accompli_, and the bridegroom-elect has declared himself not altogether so insolvent as she had feared, she drops precautionary measures and gives way to the affection with which she has begun to regard him. "You are going to Herst also. Why cannot you stay here to accompany Molly? Her going is barely three weeks distant." "If I could I would not require much pressing, you can readily believe that. But duty is imperative, and go I must." "You did not tell me you were going," says Molly, looking aggrieved. "How long have you known it?" "For a week. I could not bear to think about leaving, much less to speak of it, so full of charms has Brooklyn proved itself,"--with a smile at Mrs. Massereene,--"but it is an indisputable fact for all that." "Well, in spite of Lindley Murray I maintain that life is long," says Massereene, who has been silent for the past few minutes. "And I need hardly tell you, Luttrell, you are welcome here whenever you please to come." "Thank you, old boy," says Luttrell.