Mollie did not dare to look up. All her saucy _insouciance_ was gone. Her face was burning. She felt as though it would be an infinite relief to sink through the floor. The floor not being practicable for the purpose, she stole a look at Mrs. Sharpe; but Mrs. Sharpe sat with the face of a wooden figure-head, intent on the business of eating and drinking. "Miriam and I had a long and confidential talk," the young artist continued, "and came to the conclusion that Doctor Oleander was at the bottom of the matter, and that, wherever you were, you were an unwilling prisoner. Of course, to a gentleman of my knight-errantry, that was sufficient to fire my blood. I put lance in rest, buckled on my armor, mounted my prancing charger, and set off to the ogre's castle to rescue the captive maiden! And for the rest, you know it. I came, I saw, I conquered--Doctor Oleander!" "Which means," Mollie said, trying to laugh, "you imposed Mrs. Sharpe here upon Doctor Oleander as the nurse for his purpose, and fooled him to the top of his bent. Well, Mr. Ingelow, you have gone to a great deal of trouble on my account, and I am very much obliged to you." "Is that all?" "Is that not enough?" "Hardly. I don't labor for such poor pay. As you say, I have gone to a great deal of trouble, and lost three nights' sleep running. I want something more than 'thank you' for all that." Mollie tried to laugh--all in a flutter. "Name your price, then, sir. Though it were half my kingdom, you shall be paid." "And don't mind me, sir," suggested Mrs. Sharpe, demurely. "Ah! but I do mind you," said Mr. Ingelow; "and besides, the time for payment has not yet come. Doctor Oleander's little bill must be settled first. What do you mean to do about it, Miss Dane?" "Punish him to the utmost of my power." "And that will be pretty severe punishment, if you appeal to the laws of our beloved country. Abductions, and forcible marriages, and illegal imprisonment don't go for nothing, I fancy. Only, unfortunately, the whole land will ring with your story, and your notoriety will be more extensive than gratifying." Mollie made a gesture of horror. "Oh, stop! Not that! I should die if it were known I was Guy Oleander's wife! I mean it, Hugh Ingelow. I should die of shame!" She rose impetuously from the table and walked away to one of the windows. "You don't know how I abhor that man--abhor, detest, hate, loathe him! There is no word in all the language strong enough to express my feeling for him. Think of it, Mr. Ingelow!"--she faced around, her eyes flashing fire--"think of tearing a bride from the very altar on her wedding-night, and compelling her to marry a man she abhorred! You, who are a brave man and an honorable gentleman, tell me what language is strong enough for so dastardly a deed." Hugh Ingelow left his seat and faced her, very pale. Mrs. Sharpe slipped out of the room. "Do you regret your broken marriage with Sir Roger Trajenna, Mollie?"