Whenever Molly Merriweather was mentioned to Theodore King, that young man felt a twinge in his conscience. His mother had taken him gently to task. Out of respect for Molly's wishes she refrained from speaking of the girl's affection for him, but cautioned him to be careful not to offend her companion.

"She's very sensitive, you know, Theodore dear, and very good to me. I really don't know what I'd do without her."

"I was thoughtless!... I'll do better, mother mine," he smiled. "I'll go to her now and tell her so."

Theodore found Molly writing a letter in the library. He sank into an easy chair and yawned good-naturedly. The woman was still furious with him, so merely lifted her eyes at his entrance, and went on writing. Theodore was quiet for a few moments, then with a laugh went to the desk and took the pen forcibly from Molly's hand.

"Come and make up," he said.

"Have we anything to make up?" she asked languidly, keeping her eyes on the paper.

"Of course we have. You know very well, Molly, you're angry with me.... Now mother says----"

She caught his bantering tone, and resenting it, drew her fingers away haughtily.

"You learn good manners from your mother, it seems."

Her tone was insolent and angered him. Theodore returned quickly to his chair.

"No, I don't," he denied. "You know I don't! But before you asked me to go with you Saturday, I told you I had an appointment----"

"Yes, and you told me who it was with, too," Molly thrust back in his teeth.

"Exactly, because there's no reason why I shouldn't. I've taken an extreme interest in the little girl.... You offended me by talking against her."

Molly's temper was rising by the minute. She had armored herself with a statement, the truth of which she would force upon him.

"I'm not sure I said anything that wasn't true," she returned discourteously.

Theodore leaned back in his chair.

"Then you didn't mean it when you said you were sorry?" he demanded shortly.

"I wanted you to go with me, that's all."

"And you took that way to make me. Was that it?"

Molly picked up her pen and made a few marks with it.

"I'm not interested in Miss Grandoken," she replied.

"So I notice," retorted Theodore, provokingly.

She turned around upon him with angry, sparkling eyes.

"I think you've a lot of nerve to bring her into your home."

She hazarded this without thought of consequences.

"What do you mean?" he asked presently, searching her face with an analytical gaze.

Molly was wrought up to the point of invention, perhaps because she was madly jealous.




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