H. B. Marriott Watson

“ Hold your tongue!" said Molly sternly. Cicely was mute, but obstinate. She sank into sulky silence until the cab drew up. But when they had descended, it was impossible to resist the excitement of that triumphant, if scandalous, return. Molly's heart beat fast, but Cicely walked on air and relapsed into friendliness.
"What will mother say?" she demanded in staccato shrieks; and "Will Evelyn be angry? Oh! won't Graham have fits?"
On the doorstep they encountered the Honourable Roger Martin, who was by way of cataloguing Lord Templeton's library. They hailed him.
"Hallo, Tiggy!" ”

“ And when sleep was visiting those little heads, memory and her wrongs returned to Cicely, She lifted her face from the pillow. "Eily," she called. Eily grunted. "She can give herself what airs she like. But she did kick her legs up."
Fortunately Molly was not aware of this unauthorised version of history, which was for private circulation only. The forces arrayed against her in the open were those of Evelyn; but Molly did go to the Hollands' dance, after all, which may have been due to the friendly offices of the Hon. Roger Martin, Lady Templeton being negligibly indolent. ”

“ Of course, the brunt of this attack fell upon Molly, and it had been aggravated by Cicely's wagging tongue. The child was admonished in the severest terms by her indignant sister and resumed her sullen mood of the cab.
"It is aggravating to have the little beast giving one away like that," complained Molly to the sympathising Delia. "She can't keep her tongue quiet for ten seconds."
But Cicely had her private and separate audience in the nursery, where she slept with Eileen and Marjorie. ”

“ And I believe mother does know—which is precisely why you see me thus, young ladies—on the road to appeal on your behalf to the tender hearts of the police."
"Nonsense, Tiggy!" said Molly not very certainly. "Is—is—is mother very angry? We really couldn't help it, could we, Cicely?"
"No, it was Travers who kept us. He wouldn't let us go, and——" began the traitor Cicely.
"Who may Travers be?" asked Tiggy, fixing his eyeglass to inspect the flushed faces.
"Oh, a man," said Cicely vaguely.
"A man, eh?" said Tiggy thoughtfully, and turned to the door and rang. ”

“ Travers considered. "Not so very," he replied. "Not so wicked as she thinks she is. But let us consider a more profitable subject," he continued, rising; "and as you have both finished, and the afternoon is still young, what's the matter with the switchback, as the Americans say?"
"Oh, Molly!" cried Cicely, with glistening eyes. "Graham—I mean Miss Graham," she explained glibly to the young man, "wouldn't let us go on the switchback. She says it's unladylike." ”

“ Travers coolly. "They had lost their way, and I found it for them."
"It was a long operation," suggested the lady with a glacial sneer, and added: "That elder girl looked a sly thing."
Meanwhile Cicely, radiant and unmanageable, was talking volubly in the hansom.
"Fancy, he paid for the cab! I saw him through the peep-hole at the back."
"Of course he did," said Molly shortly. "Any gentleman would."
"Oh, Molly, how much did he spend on us?" asked Cicely in sudden and triumphant dismay.
"What does it matter? A mere nothing," said Molly tersely. "That sort of person has lots of money." ”

“ Now he smiled. "I am afraid I have a bad memory for faces. Forgive me," he said with a bow. He moved a little aside and stood, unembarrassed, watching the throng. But Molly was far from being unembarrassed.
If he had shown confusion, she would have triumphed and perhaps relented. But, having made his apology, he stood there unconcerned. She began to feel uncomfortable, and she was furiously indignant with him for making her uncomfortable. She was relieved when Mr. Martin came to claim her.
"Tiggy," said she after the dance, "you remember that man whom we met at the Exhibition? ”