Molly Bawn

Molly Bawn, by Margaret Wolfe
Hamilton

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Title: Molly Bawn
Author: Margaret Wolfe Hamilton
Release Date: August 1, 2007 [EBook #22214]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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MOLLY BAWN

By
THE DUCHESS
(Margaret Wolfe Hamilton)
Author of "Phylis," "Airy Fairy Lilian," "Portia," Etc,. Etc.

NEW YORK HURST AND COMPANY PUBLISHERS

Transcriber's Note: The Table of Contents was not printed in this book.
It has been created for the convenience of the reader.

CONTENTS
CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER XX.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER XXI.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER XXII.
CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER XXIII.
CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER XXIV.

CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER XXV.
CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER XXVI.
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER XXVII.
CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
CHAPTER X.
CHAPTER XXIX.
CHAPTER XI.
CHAPTER XXX.
CHAPTER XII.
CHAPTER XXXI.
CHAPTER XIII.
CHAPTER XXXII.
CHAPTER XIV.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
CHAPTER XV.

CHAPTER XXXIV.
CHAPTER XVI.
CHAPTER XXXV.
CHAPTER XVII.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
CHAPTER XVIII.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
CHAPTER XIX.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.

MOLLY BAWN.
CHAPTER I.
"On hospitable thoughts intent."
"Positively he is coming!" says Mr. Massereene, with an air of the most
profound astonishment.
"Who?" asks Molly, curiously, pausing with her toast in mid-air (they
are at breakfast), and with her lovely eyes twice their usual goodly size.
Her lips, too, are apart; but whether in anticipation of the news or of the
toast, it would be difficult to decide. "Is any one coming here?"
"Even here. This letter"--regarding, with a stricken conscience, the
elegant scrawl in his hand--"is from Tedcastle George Luttrell (he is
evidently proud of his name), declaring himself not only ready but
fatally willing to accept my invitation to spend a month with me."

"A month!" says Molly, amazed. "And you never said a word about it,
John."
"A month!" says Letitia, dismayed. "What on earth, John, is any one to
do with any one for a month down here?"
"I wish I knew," replies Mr. Massereene, getting more and more
stricken as he notices his wife's dejection, and gazing at Molly as
though for inspiration. "What evil genius possessed me that I didn't say
a fortnight? But, to tell you the honest truth, Letty, it never occurred to
me that he might come."
"Then why did you ask him?" says Letitia, as sharply as is possible for
her. "When writing, you might have anticipated so much: people
generally do."
"Do they?" says Mr. Massereene, with an irrepressible glance at Molly.
"Then you must only put me down as an exception to the general rule. I
thought it only civil to ask him, but I certainly never believed he would
be rash enough to go in for voluntary exile. I should have remembered
how unthinking he always was."
"But who is he?" asks Molly, impatiently, full of keen and pleasurable
excitement. "I die of vulgar curiosity. What is he like? Is he young,
handsome? Oh, John, do say he is young and good-looking."
"He was at school with me."
"Oh!" groans Molly.
"Does that groan proceed from a conviction that I am in the last stage
of decay?" demands Mr. Massereene. "Anything so rude as you, Molly,
has not as yet been rivaled. However, I am at a disadvantage: so I
forgive, and will proceed. Though at school with me, he is at least nine
years my junior, and can't be more than twenty-seven."
"Ah!" says Molly. To an Irish girl alone is given the power to express
these two exclamations with proper effect.

"He is a hussar, of a good family, sufficiently good looks, and, I think,
no fortune," says Mr. Massereene, as though reading from a doubtful
guide-book.
"How delightful!" says Molly.
"How terrific!" sighs Letitia. "Fancy a hussar finding amusement in
lambs, and cows, and fat pigs, and green fields!"
"'Green fields and pastures new,'" quotes Mr. Massereene. "He will
have them in abundance. He ought to be happy, as they say there is a
charm in variety."
"Perhaps he will find some amusement in me," suggests Molly,
modestly. "Can it be possible that he is really coming? Oh, the glory of
having a young man to talk to, and that young man a soldier! Letitia,"
to her sister-in-law, "I warn you it will be no use for you to look
shocked, because I have finally made up my mind to flirt every day,
and all day long, with Tedcastle George Luttrell."
"Shocked!" says Letitia,