"You care for some one else?" he said abruptly.
The droop of the girl's head was his answer. He stood up suddenly.
"That's it! That's it! What's his name?"
A shake of her head was all the answer Molly gave him.
"I asked you his name. Get up! Stand up!"
As if to force her to do his will, he took hold of her shoulders sharply and drew her upward.
"What's his name?"
"It doesn't matter."
"What's his name?"
Virginia did not catch Molly's whisper.
A disbelieving grunt fell from the stranger's lips.
"I remember him as a boy. Weren't they one summer at the Mottville Hotel? He's years younger than you."
Molly gathered courage.
"He doesn't know how old I am," she responded, "and his mother loves me, too. They were with me three summers." Then, remembering the man's statement, she added, "Ages don't count nowadays. And I will be happy."
"You'll get happiness with me, not with him," said an angry voice. "Has he ever told you he loved you?"
"No, no, indeed not. But he was here to-day! His mother's ill and wanted me to come as her companion, but I couldn't leave father right now."
"Does he know you love him?"
An emphatic negative ejaculation from Molly brought a sigh of relief from the man.
"Forget him!" said he. "Now I'm going. I shall come back to-night, and remember this. I'll leave no stone unturned to find that boy. I've always longed for one, and I'll move Heaven and earth to find him."
Virginia saw him whirl about, open the door, and stride out.
Molly Merriweather stood for a few minutes in silence, trembling.
"I didn't dare to tell him the baby was blind," she whispered, too low for Jinnie to hear.
Then she slowly glided away, leaving the girl under the table, with her pail full of cats, and the fiddle. Presently Virginia crawled out cautiously, the pail on her arm, and hugging her fiddle, she opened the door swiftly, and disappeared down the road, running under the tall trees.