Nell Speed

“ She was awakened from her revery by Philippe, who seized her hand, apple blossoms and all, and addressed her in the most impassioned tones: "Cousin Molly! Molly, dearest Molly! I have longed for this moment as I want to tell you how much I am gratified that you like Roche Craie. The place means so much to my mother and father and to me that we are happy when any one likes it, but for you of all persons to be pleased with it, adds to its value in our eyes. We all of us want you to make your home here. ”

“ The dinner was perfect, every detail in absolute taste, served beautifully but with an elegant simplicity. Molly made mental notes on the sauce with the fish, trying to find out without asking what was in it; and then the gravy with the filet of beef occupied her attention. Such a wonderful gravy with a character all its own. She remembered what Edwin Green had told her of the Frenchman who was visiting America. When asked his impressions of the country, he had said: "America is a country with a thousand different religions and one sauce." ”

“ Judy and I love each other a whole lot, but we are not a bit inclined to pair off and not make new friends. Judy is more than likely already to have begun a big affair of friendship with somebody. She will get so thick with that one that she will have no time for anyone else; and then she will find out the person is not the paragon she had imagined and come weeping back to me," said Molly, throwing her arm around Elise and giving her a warm hug. ”

“ As they put on their wraps, Molly heard the marchioness whisper to her husband: "Ah, Jean, your mother was wise to let us marry, wise and good. How much better it would have been for this poor old man if he could have let youth have its say!"
"Ah, my Sara, indeed she was. And now ma mère can still hear the voice of Paris calling as did Louise in the first act, and she does not have to curse it as did la père in the last." And the marquis disguised a fervent hug in the pretext of helping his wife with her cloak. ”

“ I am glad to tell you that I have already divulged to Elise that her father might have become a very good painter, and was astonished that she was ignorant of the fact that he had ever drawn a line in his life. I say that I am glad, as I want to talk to George's daughter about her father, and I cannot think of my old friend, George O'Brien, as anything but the gay, care-free art student, always ready to go on a lark and to share his last penny, of which he had very few, with any needy fellow-student. Don't you ever feel like painting yourself? ”

“ Pierce had come eagerly forward to meet the mother of the interesting girl he had known and liked at the art school; but Mrs. Huntington looked as though she, too, were seeing ghosts. She shrank back in her down pillows and her face became pinched and pale, and it was a moment before the hardened woman of the world could command her voice to return the greeting of the young man.
"Kinsella, did you say? Could you be Tom Kinsella's son? You are strangely like him."
"Thank you, madam, for that. There is no one I want to be like so much as my Uncle Tom. I am his nephew; my uncle has never married. ”

“ Elise was a mere child and George never spoke to her of having wished to become an artist. It seemed best to me for her to live in ignorance of the fact as she is already ridiculously fond of trying to paint; and if she knew there were any hereditary reasons for it, there is no telling what stand she would take. I hate the Bohemian life that artists lead, and now that I have made so many sacrifices for her to place her in the best society, I have no idea of allowing her to drop out. ”

“ Huntington was heard to remark to her daughter as a white and hollow-eyed Molly flew past their chairs on the way to her stateroom: "There goes that red-headed girl from Kentucky, who was so rude to me on deck. I fancy we can occupy her chairs for a while longer."
"Oh, Mamma, why do we not have chairs of our own? It is so embarrassing to sponge on other people all the time, and the expense of chairs is not very great," implored Elise. ”

“ Molly turned, and sure enough, tip-toeing to see over the shoulder of Jules the butler, was Gaston, his face radiant.
"Molly is a wonderful cook herself," said Judy. "She has an instinct for food that is truly remarkable. At college an invitation to a Molly Brown spread was looked upon with greater reverence than being asked to have tea with the President. But has she not learned from Aunt Mary, that dear old colored woman who cooks like an angel? We trembled for fear that the domestic science teacher would ruin Molly's touch and make her too academic, but I hope it hasn't." ”

“ My not really believing in ghosts did not help me one bit. Did you ever see anything in the way of a mere man quite so excruciatingly handsome as Philippe when he threw back his cowl and stood bareheaded peering into the darkness?"
"Oh, Judy, what a girl you are! How could you take note of all that when you were in a little heap on the floor sobbing out your soul?"
"I peeped through my fingers. People don't sob with their eyes. What a picture he would make!" and Judy began to draw in the air. ”

“ Mr. Kinsella and Elise did come to an understanding and that understanding was perfectly satisfactory to both of them. They spent a wonderful day together, following the trail Judy had taken the day before, the morning at St. Cloud, with luncheon later on at Versailles. But they did not dance with the wedding parties they met, nor did they take the wrong train and go to Chartres instead of back to Paris.
It seemed so marvelous to Mr. Kinsella that this young, handsome, brilliant girl should find anything in him to care for, middle-aged, careworn man that he felt himself to be. ”

“ Judy, see if you know her," said Molly, as she adjusted Mr. Kinsella's opera glasses to her eyes. She and Judy got the focus at the same moment and exclaimed in unison: "Frances Andrews!"
"She is a girl we knew in our freshman year at college" explained Molly to her Cousin Sally. "I remember she came to Paris to join her grandmother, but we have never seen or heard of her since she left college. She was a very peculiar person but clever and bright, and always awfully nice to me."
"Humph!" sniffed Judy. "I'd like to see the person who isn't nice to you, you old saint! ”

“ The little brown bungalow looks as though it had always been there. The trees are laden with apples. The fall cheeses are beginning to ripen, and the wine saps are so heavy that Edwin has proudly propped up the bending boughs. The quickly growing vines have done their best for the newly-wedded pair, and the slower ivy has begun to send out shoots that need daily training with matting tacks until they accustom themselves to sticking to the stone foundations. Molly's porch boxes are filled with nasturtiums and petunias, and on each side of the steps are beds of scarlet sage. ”

“ Kinsella gazed rather wistfully after Pierce, who had crossed the deck to meet Elise O'Brien, just emerging from the cabin.
"Oh, Mr. Kinsella, you must not think that," eagerly implored Molly. "I always like serious men better than boys, and besides you are not somber but full of gaiety and jokes. You are not fair to yourself if you think people like you only on account of Pierce. ”

“ Judy seized the bag of gingerbread that she seemed unable to lose, and a sudden remembrance of her talk with Elise came to her: "I am big enough, old enough and ugly enough to take care of myself." She thought if it was beauty that he was admiring she would cure him fast enough. She grabbed the slab of soggy brown cake from the bag and crammed about six inches of it into her mouth, the rest of it sticking out in a manner far from dainty. It had the desired effect. The fastidious Frenchman was completely disgusted. ”

“ And Molly raised her frank blue eyes to his appealing brown ones and answered: "No, I can't love you just a little, but I have to love you a whole lot."
His day dream was indeed coming true: alone with Molly Brown in the great, deep, silent forest, his love spoken at last and Molly actually confessing that she cared for him. That eminent instructor of English at Wellington College found when the time came to express himself that all his knowledge of words was as naught, and the only English he had at his command was: "I love you, do you love me?" ”

“ I have talent and there is no use in being mealy-mouthed over it. To be a great painter means work, work, work; and I am prepared to do that with every breath I breathe. Painting isn't work to me; it is joy and life. Besides, I mean to make it up to Uncle for his disappointment in life, and the only way I can do it is by succeeding."
Molly was dying to know more about the uncle and what his disappointment was, but she was too well bred to show her desire and Pierce did not seem inclined to go on with his family disclosures. ”

“ Judy clutched Molly and held her close. "I have always been more afraid of thunder than lightning. Molly, I wonder if Elizabeth's footprints wouldn't be visible on such a night? Let's go see. I can't sleep for thinking of her. We can easily get there without being seen or heard."
Wrapped in their kimonos and armed with Judy's electric searchlight and a big pitcher of water, as Philippe had said the floor must be wet to bring out the footprints, the girls made their way to the haunted chapel. ”

“ Molly was still half asleep, thinking of the orchard at Chatsworth and of what Professor Green's bungalow would look like among the apple trees. Her thoughts came back to the ship with a bounce when she heard the woman say:
"Tom, why do you avoid me? Can't you let bygones be bygones?"
"That is exactly what I am doing, Mrs. Huntington: letting bygones be bygones. It seems a useless thing for us to rake up the past." ”

“ There emerged from behind the altar a tall figure in a priest's black cowl, carrying a lantern.
If there had been any peasants in the field passing the old steeple on this night of terrible storm, they would have been able to bear witness to the truth of the ghost story of the beautiful Elizabeth. There was certainly a shriek of "God help me! God help me!" but it came from the over-wrought Judy. Molly reasoned quickly that ghosts of Jesuits would not carry kerosene lanterns; and, besides, that ghosts do not as a rule appear to two persons at the same time. ”

“ I like her, though, and think it will be grand to have tea with her and to meet 'Polly'."
"I like her, too," said Mrs. Brown. "She has such a nice, big, honest mouth. You know I never could stand little mouths. But, Molly, how on earth does she manage to wipe her paint brush on the back of her blouse and keep the front so clean? I wonder what kind of an artist she is."
"Maybe she is a futurist or a symbolist. Anyhow, she is very cordial and kind. I wish Aunt Clay could know that we are to have tea with a woman in trousers and a long-haired man." ”

“ I had never seen mother get really mad before and she turned on Aunt Clay in such a rage that I felt sorry for her. You know it must have been pretty bad if I felt sorry for Aunt Clay, for she is the one person in the world I can't like."
"Molly, we are alike in more ways than one! She is an abomination unto me! Sarah Clay made my childhood unhappy. You see, I had no regular home as my mother and I were very poor. We spent much of our time visiting and Cousin George Carmichael, your grandfather, was goodness itself to us. The Carmichael place was more like home than any other to me. ”

“ Do you know, ma mère, I have an idea that the Providence that looks after children and fools has protected me from a calamity which falling in love with Molly would have been? I have a feeling that my little cousin is already in love with someone else, and that there never has been a chance for me."
"Well, what a wise young man a refusal has made of you!" ”

“ Professor Green looked up from the perusal of the little half sheet of paper with his face beaming. What can't a woman put in a postscript? The pain, which he had confessed to Mrs. Brady was a little higher up than his stomach, had entirely disappeared. He was no longer jealous of "any little, black, dried-up Frenchman." That is the way he thought of Philippe; and it was certainly well for the young American's peace of mind that he did not know that Molly and Judy always spoke of Philippe d'Ochtè as "the Adonis."
"Mrs. Brady, your good, strong, hot tea has done wonders for me. ”

“ One thing that bothers us is having to dress and sit through a formal dinner with the eagle eye of Mrs. Pace upon us. We are looking forward to the time when we shall be in our own apartment, where we need not dress for dinner unless we have a mind to. My Cousin Philippe d'Ochtè declares that already my mother and I know more about Paris than he does. We are trying to be systematic in our sight-seeing and not to hurry, as we have the winter before us, but at every corner and square there is something interesting to find out about. ”

“ Kinsella, who had sunk into the chair vacated by Mrs. Brown. "Your mother is a rare woman: beautiful and honest and tolerant, charming and well-bred, broad-minded and cultured. Eternal youth is in her heart, but she has a character gracefully to accept the years that Providence has allotted her and that only serve to make her more lovely. I have no patience with the assumption of extreme youth in the middle-aged, despite the limerick I have taken for my motto."
"But, Mr. Kinsella, you are not middle-aged," protested Molly. "I never even think of Mother as being middle-aged. ”

“ You see we have never been on the ocean in our lives, but we have always felt that we would like it beyond anything, and that liking it so much would keep us from being harmed by it," Molly had answered, a little chagrined at what Richard Blount had had to say about Professor Green and Melissa, but determined not to show it to that young man or to let herself think there was anything in it. ”