“But I really don’t know how to refuse when people are introduced to me and ask me, and I am longing to dance. You know to-night it is a charity-ball, and papa said everybody danced with everybody,” said Molly, in a pleading tone of voice; for she could not quite thoroughly enjoy herself, if she was out of harmony with any one. What reply Mrs. Gibson would have made to this speech cannot now be ascertained; for, before she could answer, Mr. Preston stepped a little forwards, and said, in a tone which he meant to be icily indifferent, but which trembled with anger—

“If Miss Gibson finds any difficulty in refusing a partner, she has only to apply to Miss Kirkpatrick for instructions.”

Cynthia lifted up her beautiful eyes, and, fixing them on Mr. Preston’s face, said, very quietly, as if only stating a matter of fact—

“You forget, I think, Mr. Preston; Miss Gibson implied that she wished to dance with the person who asked her— that makes all the difference. I can’t instruct her how to act in that difficulty.”

And to the rest of this little conversation Cynthia appeared to lend no ear; and she was almost directly claimed by her next partner. Mr. Preston took the seat now left empty, much to Molly’s annoyance. At first she feared lest he might be going to ask her to dance; but, instead, he put out his hand for Cynthia’s nosegay, which she had left on rising, entrusted to Molly. It had suffered considerably from the heat of the room, and was no longer full and fresh; not so much so as Molly’s, which had not, in the first instance, been pulled to pieces in picking out the scarlet flowers which now adorned her hair, and which had since been cherished with more care. Enough, however, remained of Cynthia’s to show very distinctly that it was not the one Mr. Preston had sent; and it was, perhaps, to convince himself of this, that he rudely asked to examine it. But Molly, faithful to what she imagined would be Cynthia’s wish, refused to allow him to touch it; she only held it a little nearer.

“Miss Kirkpatrick has not done me the honour of wearing the bouquet I sent her, I see. She received it, I suppose, and my note?”

“Yes,” said Molly, rather intimidated by the tone in which this was said. “But we had already accepted these two nosegays.”

Mrs. Gibson was just the person to come to the rescue with her honeyed words, on such an occasion as the present. She evidently was rather afraid of Mr. Preston, and wished to keep at peace with him.

“Oh, yes, we were so sorry! Of course, I don’t mean to say we could be sorry for any one’s kindness; but two such lovely nosegays had been sent from Hamley Hall—you may see how beautiful from what Molly holds in her hand— and they had come before yours, Mr. Preston.”

“I should have felt honoured if you had accepted of mine, since the young ladies were so well provided for. I was at some pains in selecting the flowers at Green’s; I think I may say it was rather more recherché than that of Miss Kirkpatrick’s, which Miss Gibson holds so tenderly and securely in her hand.”

“Oh, because Cynthia would take out the most effective flowers to put in my hair!” exclaimed Molly eagerly.

“Did she?” said Mr. Preston, with a certain accent of pleasure in his voice, as though he were glad she set so little store by the nosegay; and he walked off to stand behind Cynthia in the quadrille that was being danced; and Molly saw him making her reply to him—against her will, Molly was sure. But, somehow, his face and manner implied power over her. She looked grave, deaf, indifferent, indignant, defiant; but, after a half-whispered speech to Cynthia, at the conclusion of the dance, she evidently threw him an impatient consent to what he was asking, for he walked off with a disagreeable smile of satisfaction on his handsome face.