Kitty French, too, was full of anxious interest, and, taking the seat assigned to her, clasped her little hands in breathless suspense, while a high color rose to her lovely cheeks.

Molly Gardner was pale and wan-looking. She dreaded the whole scene, and had but one desire, to get away from Mapleton. She could have gone to her room, had she chosen, but the idea of being all alone was even worse than the present conditions. So she sat, with overwrought nerves, now and then clutching at Kitty’s sleeve.

Cicely Dupuy was very calm⁠—so calm, indeed, that one might guess it was the composure of an all-compelling determination, and by no means the quiet of indifference.

Marie was there, and showed the impassive face of the well-trained servant, though her volatile French nature was discernible in her quick-darting glances and quivering, sensitive lips.