"Oh, I see," Mostyn said, anxiously, "and she thought that I called you out."
"I could not explain it any other way," Dolly answered. "I don't want her to know, you see, about father and the moonshiners. She began teasing me about you this morning, and I was afraid father would hear it, so I simply had to admit that I was with you. I even confessed-- confessed"--Dolly's color rose--"that I care a great deal for you, for, you see, she actually saw--saw--"
"I understand." Mostyn tried to smile lightly. "You mean that she saw me kiss you?"
Dolly's flushed silence was her answer. "Ann is so young and romantic that it has made a great impression on her," Dolly added, lamely, as she moved toward the door, her eyes downcast. "You see how I am placed, and I hope you won't blame me. There was no other way out of it. I think I can keep her from mentioning it. I shall try, anyway. After all," she sighed, deeply, "it is only one of our troubles-- yours and mine."
"Only one of them," he repeated, with a sudden guilty start--"what do you mean?"
She swept his face with a flash of her eyes, seemed to hesitate, then she said, resignedly: "I am quite sure that your Atlanta set, especially your relatives, would not approve of me--that is, if I were thrown with them as an equal."
"How absurd!" he began, awkwardly; but she fixed him with a firmness that checked him.
"Your sister, Mrs. Moore, would scarcely wipe her feet on me. You see, I met her once."
"When? how?" he asked, wonderingly.
"She was at the house-party Mr. Saunders gave last summer, and he introduced us on the road one day," Dolly explained, with an indignant toss of the head. "Oh, I could never--never like her. She treated me exactly as if I had been a hireling. She is your sister, but Lord deliver me from such a woman. Well, what's the use denying it--she is part of my premonition. You may settle your business troubles satisfactorily, but if--if you should tell her about me, she will move heaven and earth to convince you that I am unworthy of your notice."
"Nonsense!" he began; but with a sad little shake of the head she hurried away.
Left alone, Mostyn's heart sank into the lowest ebb of despair. Back and forth he strode, trying to shake off his despondency, but it lay on him like the weight of a mountain. What would the morrow bring forth? To him his sister's objections would be the very least. The real disaster lay in the matter Dolly's pure mind could not have grasped. He took out the letter Saunders had brought and read it again.