He drew his chair nearer--beside her, in fact--and said, reproachfully: “You said your name was Molly Trueheart--” “Oh, hush!” cried Molly. She almost jumped out of her seat in her terror lest Mrs. Barry should have heard his words. “I----I--told you--a--a story, Mr. Laurens,” she said, tremulously. “But please, _please_ don’t tell Aunt Thalia!” The violet eyes under the dark brows and high, white forehead regarded the pleading face rather sternly. He said: “Then your aunt did not know of your--your--” hesitating, then half smiling, “your ‘lark’ that night?” Molly grew hot and angry under that peculiar smile. “I don’t see what you’re smiling at,” she said, crossly. “No, she doesn’t know; and--if--you--are--a gentleman--you will not betray me!” He flushed as the slow, emphatically uttered words fell from the girl’s lips, and answered, curtly: “I claim to be a gentleman, Miss Barry, but I can not comprehend the motives of a _lady_ who goes on such a madcap race by night unknown to her guardians, and under a fictitious name!” The sarcasm in his voice stung deeply. Molly turned crimson and exclaimed, resentfully: “It is _not_ a fictitious name--it is my own--my step-sister’s name, and I have a right to use it if I choose!” Cecil Laurens queried, gravely: “Do you think your step-sister would be willing to allow such an escapade to go under her name?” Tears of shame and anger flashed into Molly’s dark eyes. “Molly Trueheart would not care--not a bit!” she declared, with a half sob. “And--and it’s none of your business, any way, Mr. Cecil Laurens, and I think you’re old enough to know better than to meddle with--anybody--like this. I would have told you all about it if you hadn’t been so smart, but now I won’t, so there! And you may go and tell Aunt Thalia all you know, if you’re mean enough, and of course you _are_!” With that she bounced out of her chair and flew to the bay-window, where she stood with her back to him, her cheeks hot with anger, and her eyes so dim with tears that she could not see how brightly the stars were sparkling in the sky. Cecil Laurens remained perfectly silent, and there was a glitter of anger in his violet eyes. “What a little fury!” he was thinking. “I have always heard that the Barrys were high-spirited, but I never had an exhibition of their temper before. Pity to spoil such a pretty face flying into such a rage.” Mrs. Barry’s ten minutes passed without bringing her back, and Mr. Laurens grew tired of watching Molly’s obdurate back. He opened the grand organ and sat down before it, pressing his fingers softly on the keys.