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HOME > Short Stories > Light O' The Morning > CHAPTER XIII. — “THERE'S MOLLY.”
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 As they were going upstairs Linda suddenly turned and looked full at her cousin.  
“How very grave you are! And why have you that little frown between your brows? Are you vexed about anything?”
“Only I thought Terry would be more glad to see me,” replied Nora.
“More glad!” cried Linda. “I saw you hugging him as I ran downstairs. He let you. I don't know how any one could show gladness more. But come along; this is your room. It is next to Molly's and mine. Isn't it pretty? Molly and I chose it for you this morning, and we arranged those flowers. You will have such a lovely view, and that little peep of the Thames is so charming. I hope you will like your room.”
Nora entered one of the prettiest and most lovely bedrooms she had ever seen in her life. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined anything so cozy. The perfectly chosen furniture, the elegant appointments of every sort and description, the view from the partly opened windows, the view of winding river and noble trees—all looked rich and cultivated and lovely; and the Irish girl, as she gazed around, found suddenly a great, fierce hatred rising up in her heart against what she called the mere prettiness. She turned and faced Linda, who was watching her with curiosity in her somewhat small blue eyes Linda was essentially English, very reserved and quiet, very self-possessed, quite a young lady of the world. She looked at Nora as if she meant to read her through.
“Well, don't you think the view perfect?” she said.
“Have you ever been in Ireland?” was Nora's answer.
“Never. Oh, dear me! have you anything as pretty as this in Ireland?”
“No,” said Nora fiercely—“no.” She left the window, turned back, and began to unpin her hat.
“You look as if you did not care for your room.”
“It is a very, very pretty room,” said Nora, “and the view is very, very pretty, but I am tired to-night. I did not know it; but I am. I should like to go to bed soon.”
“So you shall, of course, after you have had supper. Oh, how awfully thoughtless of me not to know that you must be very tried and hungry! Molly and I are glad you have come.”
“But where is Molly? I should like to see her.”
Linda went up to Nora and spoke in a low whisper.
“She is in disgrace.”
“In disgrace? Has she done anything naughty?”
“Yes, fearfully naughty. She is in hot water as usual.”
“I am sorry,” said Nora. She instantly began to feel a strong sensation of sympathy for Molly. She was sure, in advance, that she would like her.
“But is she in such dreadful disgrace that I may not see her?” she asked after a pause.
“Oh, I don't know. I don't suppose so.”
Just then there was heard at the room door a gay laugh and a kind of scamper. A knock followed, but before Nora could answer the door was burst open, and a large, heavily made, untidy-looking girl, with a dark face and great big black eyes, bounded into the apartment.
“I have burst the bonds, and here I am,” she said. “How do you do, Nora? I'm Molly. I am always and always in hot water. I like being in hot water. Now, tell-tale-tit, you can go downstairs and acquaint mother with the fact that I have burst the bonds, for kiss little Irish Nora I will.”
“Oh, I am glad to see you,” said Nora. Her depression vanished on the spot. She felt that, naughty as doubtless Molly was, she could get on with her.
“Come, let's take a squint at you,” said the eldest Miss Hartrick; “come over here to the light.”
Molly took Nora by both hands over to the window.
“Now then, let's have a category of your charms. Terence has been telling us that you are very pretty. You are. Come, Linda; come and look at her. Did you ever see such black hair? And it's as soft as silk.”
Molly put up a rather large hand and patted Nora somewhat violently on the head.
“Oh, don't!” said Nora, starting back.
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