He had a look about his eyes--a quizzical look--that certainly suggested possibilities.

But dare she put it to the test?
Dare she actually interfere in the matter?
For the first time in all her vigorous young life Molly found her courage at so low an ebb that she was by no means sure that she could rely upon it to carry her through.
She spent the rest of that day in trying to screw herself up to what she privately termed "the necessary pitch of impudence." * * * * * At nine o'clock on the following morning Lord Wyverton, sitting at breakfast alone in the little coffee-room of the Red Lion, heard a voice he recognized speak his name in the passage outside.
"Lord Wyverton," it said, "is he down ?" Lord Wyverton rose and went to the door.

He met the landlady just entering with a basket of eggs in her hand.

She dropped him a curtsy.
"It's Miss Molly from the Vicarage, my lord," she said.
Molly herself stood in the background.

Behind the landlady's broad back she also executed a village bob.
"I had to come with the eggs.