If you choose, I'll present him, and then you can cross-question him at your leisure." "No, no!" cried Mollie, detaining him; "not for the world! I don't wish to make his acquaintance.

See, they are filing off! I fall to your lot, I suppose." She took her rejected suitor's arm--somehow, she was growing to like to be with Hugh Ingelow--and they entered the dining-room together.

But Mollie was still very, very pale, and very unusually quiet.
Her face and neck gleamed against her pink dinner-dress like snow, and her eyes wandered furtively ever and anon over to the Reverend Mr.
Rashleigh.
She listened to every word that he spoke as though they were the fabled pearls and diamonds of the fairy tale that dropped from his lips.
"Positively, Miss Dane," Hugh Ingelow remarked in his lazy voice, "it is love at first sight with the Reverend Raymond.

Think better of it, pray; he's fat and forty, and has one wife already." "Hush!" said Mollie, imperiously.
And Mr.Ingelow, stroking his mustache meditatively, hushed, and listened to a story the Reverend Mr.Rashleigh was about to relate.
"So extraordinary a story," he said, glancing around him, "that I can hardly realize it myself or credit my own senses.

It is the only adventure of my life, and I am free to confess I wish it may remain so.
"It is about three weeks ago.