"May I go back, out into the garden? I can't breathe here!"
"Oh, yes, to be sure, love. I daresay it's hard understanding for
you, love; but it's very fine and instructive, and a deal of Latin in
it too."
She turned hastily round not to lose another word of Lady Agnes'
lecture on orchids, and Molly turned back and passed out of the
heated atmosphere. She felt better in the fresh air; and unobserved,
and at liberty, went from one lovely spot to another, now in the open
park, now in some shut-in flower-garden, where the song of the birds,
and the drip of the central fountain, were the only sounds, and the
tree-tops made an enclosing circle in the blue June sky; she went
along without more thought as to her whereabouts than a butterfly
has, as it skims from flower to flower, till at length she grew
very weary, and wished to return to the house, but did not know
how, and felt afraid of encountering all the strangers who would be
there, unprotected by either of the Miss Brownings. The hot sun told
upon her head, and it began to ache. She saw a great wide-spreading
cedar-tree upon a burst of lawn towards which she was advancing, and
the black repose beneath its branches lured her thither. There was
a rustic seat in the shadow, and weary Molly sate down there, and
presently fell asleep.
She was startled from her slumbers after a time, and jumped to her
feet. Two ladies were standing by her, talking about her. They were
perfect strangers to her, and with a vague conviction that she had
done something wrong, and also because she was worn-out with hunger,
fatigue, and the morning's excitement, she began to cry.
"Poor little woman! She has lost herself; she belongs to some of the
people from Hollingford, I have no doubt," said the oldest-looking of
the two ladies; she who appeared to be about forty, though she did
not really number more than thirty years. She was plain-featured, and
had rather a severe expression on her face; her dress was as rich as
any morning dress could be; her voice deep and unmodulated,--what in
a lower rank of life would have been called gruff; but that was not a
word to apply to Lady Cuxhaven, the eldest daughter of the earl and
countess. The other lady looked much younger, but she was in fact
some years the elder; at first sight Molly thought she was the most
beautiful person she had ever seen, and she was certainly a very
lovely woman. Her voice, too, was soft and plaintive, as she replied
to Lady Cuxhaven,--