"She is trying to gain some sort of influence over you, Theo, just the same as she got over that Jewish cobbler." Theodore King gazed in amazement at the reddening, beautiful face. Surely he had not heard aright. Had she really made vile charges against the girl? To implicate Jinnie with a thought of conspiracy brought hot blood about his temples. He wouldn't stand that even from an old-time friend. Of course he liked Molly very much, yes, very much indeed, but this new antagonistic spirit in her---- "What's the matter with you, Molly?" he demanded abruptly. "You haven't any reason to speak of the child that way." "The child!" sneered Molly. "Why, she's a little river rat--a bold, nasty----" Theodore King raised his great shoulders, throwing back his closely cropped head. Then he sprang to refute the terrible aspersion against the girl he loved. "Stop!" he commanded in a harsh voice, leaning over the panting woman. "And now I'll ask you how _you_ dare?" he finished. Molly answered him bravely, catching her breath in a sob. "I dare because I'm a woman.... I dare because I know what she's doing. If she hadn't played her cards well, you'd never've paid any attention to her at all.... No one can make me believe you would have been interested in a--in a----" The man literally whirled from the porch, bounded into the motor, turned the wheel, and shot rapidly away. CHAPTER XXVI MOLLY ASKS TO BE FORGIVEN All the evening Molly waited in despair. She dared not appear at dinner and arose the next morning after a sleepless night. For two or three hours she hovered about the telephone, hoping for word from Theodore. He would certainly 'phone her. He would tell her he was sorry for the way he had left her, for the way he had spoken to her. Even his mother noticed her pale face and extreme nervousness. "What is it, dear?" asked Mrs. King, solicitously. "Nothing, nothing--much," answered Molly evasively. Mrs. King hesitated before she ventured, "I thought I heard you and Theo talking excitedly last night. Molly, you musn't quarrel with him.... You know the wish of my heart.... I need you, child, and so does he." Miss Merriweather knelt beside the gentle woman. "He doesn't care for me, dear!" she whispered. For an instant she was impelled to speak of Jinnie, but realizing what a tremendous influence Theodore had over his mother, she dared not. Like her handsome son, Mrs. King worshipped genius, and Molly reluctantly admitted to herself that the girl possessed it. "He's young yet," sighed the mother, "and he's always so sweet to you, Molly. Some day he'll wake up.... There, there, dearie, don't cry!" "I'm so unhappy," sobbed Molly. Mrs. King smoothed the golden head tenderly. "Why, child, he can't help but love you," she insisted. "He knows how much I depend on you.... I'd have had you with me long before if your father hadn't needed you.... Shall I speak to Theodore?" "No, no----" gasped Molly, and she ran from the room.