"Some day you may. Look here, Molly," he burst out impulsively, "I'm not
going to be sentimental about you. I haven't the least idea of making
love to you--I've had enough of that sort of rot, God knows--but I do
like you tremendously, and I want to stand to you as a big brother. I
never had a sister, you know," he added.
Something earnest and tender in his voice touched her generosity, which
overflowed so easily.
"And I never had a brother," she rejoined.
"Then, that's where I'll come in, little cousin," he answered gently,
and drawing her to him, kissed her cheek with a caress which surprised
him by its unlikeness to the ordinary manifestations of love.
His hand was still on her shoulder, when he felt her start back from his
grasp, and, turning quickly in the direction of her glance, he saw the
miller looking at them from the thicket on the opposite side of the
brook. The anger in Abel's face had distorted his handsome features
until they appeared swollen as if from drink, and for a single instant
Gay imagined that it was indeed whisky and not passion that had wrought
so brutal a change in him.
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