‘You said I might come,’ said Molly, ‘and that you would tell me all.’
‘You know all, I think,’ said Cynthia heavily. ’Perhaps you don’t know what excuses I have, but at any rate you know what a scrape I am in.’
‘I’ve been thinking a great deal,’ said Molly timidly and doubtfully. ‘And I can’t help fancying if you told papa—’
Before she could go on, Cynthia had stood up.
‘No!’ said she. ’That I won’t. Unless I’m to leave here at once. And you know I have not another place to go to—without warning I mean. I dare say my uncle would take me in, he’s a relation, and would be bound to stand by me in whatever disgrace I might be; or perhaps I might get a governess’s situation; a pretty governess I should be!’
’Pray, please, Cynthia, don’t go off into such wild talking. I don’t believe you’ve done so very wrong. You say you have not, and I believe you. That horrid man has managed to get you involved in some way; but I’m sure papa could set it to rights, if you would only make a friend of him and tell him all—’
‘No, Molly,’ said Cynthia, ’I can’t, and there’s an end of it. You may if you like, only let me leave the house first; give me that much time.’
’You know I would never tell anything you wished me not to tell, Cynthia,’ said Molly, deeply hurt.
‘Would you not, darling?’ said Cynthia, taking her hand. ’Will you promise me that? quite a sacred promise?—for it would be such a comfort to me to tell you all, now you know so much.’