One morning Molly came into her room greatly perturbed, and Strelsa, still in bed, laid aside the New Testament which she had been reading, and looked up questioningly at her agitated hostess. "It's your fault," began Molly without preliminaries--"that old woman certainly suspects what you're up to with her nephew or she wouldn't bother to come up here----" "Who?" said Strelsa, sitting up. "Mrs. Sprowl?" "Certainly, horse, foot, and dragoons! She's coming, I tell you, and there's only one motive for her advent!" "But where will she stop?" asked Strelsa, flushing with dismay. "Where do you suppose?" "With Langly?" "He wouldn't have her." "She is not to be your guest, is she?" "No. She wrote hinting that she'd come if asked. I pretended not to understand. I don't want her here. Every servant I have would leave--as a beginning. Besides I don't require the social prestige of such a visitation; and she knows that, too. So what do you think she's done?" "I can't imagine," said Strelsa wearily. "Well, she's manœuvred, somehow; and this morning's paper announces that she's to be entertained at South Linden by Mary Ledwith." Strelsa reddened. "Why should that concern me?" she asked calmly. "Concern you, child! How can it help concerning you? Do you see what she's done?--do you count all the birds she's knocked over with one stone. Mary Ledwith returns from Reno and Mrs. Sprowl fixes and secures her social status by visiting her at once. And it's a perfectly plain notice to Langly, too, and--forgive me, dear!--to you!" Strelsa scarlet and astonished, sat up rigid, her beautiful head thrown back. "If she means it that way, it is slanderous," she said. "The entire story is a base slander! Did _you_ believe it, Molly?" "Believe it? Of course I believe it----" "Why should you? Because a lot of vile newspapers have hinted at such a thing? I tell you it is an infamous story without one atom of truth in it----" "How do you know?" asked Molly bluntly. "Because Langly says so." "Oh. Did you ask him?" "No. He spoke of it himself." "He denied it?" "Absolutely on his word of honour." "Then why didn't he sue a few newspapers?" "He spoke of that, too. He said that his attorneys had advised him not to bring any actions because the papers had been too clever to lay themselves open to suits for libel." "Oh," said Molly softly. Strelsa, flushed, breathing rapidly and irregularly, sat there in bed watching her; but Molly avoided her brilliant, level gaze. "There's no use in talking to you," she said, "but why on earth you don't marry Sir Charles----" "Molly! Please don't----" "--Or Rix----" "Molly! Molly! _Can't_ you let me alone! Can't we be together for ten minutes unless you urge me to marry somebody? Why do you want me to marry anybody!--Why----" "But you're going to marry Langly, you say!" "Yes, I am! I am! But can't you let me forget it for a moment or two? I--I'm not very well----"