“My darling, what a bashful little goose you are!” he returned, laughingly; and just then Mrs. Barry came up and found him holding the little hand tightly in his own. “Louise, I was so uneasy about your long absence, I took Agnes and came to hunt you; but if I had known that Cecil was with you, I should not have been alarmed,” she said. Molly muttered something incoherently, and tried to wrest her hand from its captor, but Cecil held it up triumphantly before Mrs. Barry, who laughed in glee as she caught the glitter of the diamond. “Engaged!” she exclaimed, gladly. “Yes,” he replied, jubilantly. “Will you give us your blessing, Aunt Thalia?” “With all my heart,” replied the old woman. “Louise, do not look so bashful and frightened, my dear, for I am very much pleased at your choice;” and she actually kissed the little bit of white forehead that was visible above the arm with which Molly had hidden her face. Agnes Walker, too, looked very proud and pleased, and uttered a few words of congratulation that would have delighted Molly if this had not been, as she said to herself, “all a dreadful sham.” She sat like one in a dream, listening to Mrs. Barry’s cracked voice in its complacent chatter. “Of course you will not go abroad so soon now, Cecil?” “I am afraid I ought to go. Mother and father will expect me, and I promised to go as soon as I had attended to that business. But--it will be hard to go now. I have a bright idea. Can not you and Louise go with me?” Molly’s heart leaped wildly, then calmed again as Mrs. Barry shook her head. “I am too old to cross the sea again. I want to die in my native land,” she said. “Louise, then--with a maid, of course?” he said, but again the old woman shook her head. “I’m afraid it would not be exactly proper then,” she replied. “Then I shall write to my folks that I shall delay my return until my bride is ready to accompany me,” he replied, with a tender smile at Molly, who replied, in a fright: “No, no, I’m too young yet.” “Nonsense!” said Mrs. Barry, sharply. “Why, Louise Barry, in _my_ young days a girl of five-and-twenty was considered an old maid, and here you are talking of being too young. Don’t mind her, Cecil. I’ll order her wedding things at once, and she shall be ready as soon as you wish.” “Thank you, Mrs. Barry!” exclaimed the prospective bridegroom, radiant. But Molly muttered, frantically: “I know Aunt Lucy will not be willing!” “Lucy Everett has nothing to do with it. I shall not ask her advice, nor Cecil her consent. If you love Cecil, there is no more to do but to marry him and settle down,” proclaimed Mrs. Barry with the air of an autocrat, and she added, after a minute, sharply: “I don’t think I shall even invite Lucy Everett to the wedding, for she would want to bring that Trueheart girl, and _she_ shall never with _my_ consent cross the threshold of a Barry!”