“Oh,” with a horrified gesture, “not for worlds. You know--I’m to be her heiress. I must not offend her, or she may disinherit me.” “So you are mercenary?” lifting his graceful brows into distinctive arches. “It runs in the Barry blood, does it not?” she retorted. And he answered gravely: “I never knew it before!” Molly laughed merrily. “Now, you make me think you a hateful prig again. But there, we needn’t quarrel, only I must say again, I don’t want to stay at Ferndale, and I pray Heaven this letter may send me permission to go home.” He would have joined her in that fervent prayer if he had known what that letter was to bring forth, but in his ignorance and blindness he began to say to himself that it was a pity old Mrs. Barry was going to lose her bright young companion so soon. “But, it _is_ lonely for such a little butterfly,” he thought. “I must try to brighten up her life at Ferndale for my old friend’s sake.” Full of this generous impulse, he said: “It shall not be dull any more at Ferndale. I know many of the pretty, lively young girls at Lewisburg, and I shall bring some of them to call on you. Then we will devise some parties and picnics to amuse you. I only wish my mother and sisters were at home so that you could come and make a visit at Maple Shade.” “They would not care about _me_!” she replied with an odd touch of bitterness. “Miss Barry, you ought to know better than that. Did I not tell you that our families are intimate friends? My mother and my sisters would take the greatest interest in you. I wish that Mrs. Barry had sent you abroad with my sisters to be educated.” “Thank you,” with sarcasm. He paid no attention to her outburst, but continued, as if struck by a sudden thought: “I have an idea.” “Really?” exclaimed Molly, with deeper sarcasm than before. “Yes, impossible as it may appear to you,” he replied, flushing slightly under the fire of her large, magnetic dark eyes. “Miss Barry, you know that I have but lately left London and that I shall return in a few weeks?” “Yes,” carelessly. “Here is my plan, I shall ask Mrs. Barry to let me take charge of you and place you at school with my sisters to finish your education.” Molly caught her breath quickly, and something like a sharp regret pierced her heart. To herself she said: “Ah, if I were not a little fraud what a future would lie before me!” But looking up into his face with eyes that gave no sign of the pang she was enduring, she said: “Mr. Laurens, you must have taken leave of your senses to talk about a girl of five-and-twenty finishing her education.” “I beg your pardon, Miss Barry, you look much younger than that, and you certainly do need a little more polish. The Barrys were always noted for their polished manners,” he replied, frankly, but the frankness on the whole was rather engaging.