Wives and Daughters: An Every-Day Story - Page 104/572

Molly took her hand away, and her heart began to harden; these

speeches were so discordant to her. But she set her teeth together,

and "tried to be good."

"We must make him so happy. I'm afraid he has had a great deal to

annoy him at home; but we will do away with all that now. You must

tell me," seeing the cloud in Molly's eyes, "what he likes and

dislikes, for of course you will know."

Molly's face cleared a little; of course she did know. She had not

watched and loved him so long without believing that she understood

him better than any one else: though how he had come to like Mrs.

Kirkpatrick enough to wish to marry her, was an unsolved problem that

she unconsciously put aside as inexplicable. Mrs. Kirkpatrick went

on,--"All men have their fancies and antipathies, even the wisest.

I have known some gentlemen annoyed beyond measure by the merest

trifles; leaving a door open, or spilling tea in their saucers, or

a shawl crookedly put on. Why," continued she, lowering her voice,

"I know of a house to which Lord Hollingford will never be asked

again because he didn't wipe his shoes on both the mats in the hall!

Now you must tell me what your dear father dislikes most in these

fanciful ways, and I shall take care to avoid it. You must be my

little friend and helper in pleasing him. It will be such a pleasure

to me to attend to his slightest fancies. About my dress, too--what

colours does he like best? I want to do everything in my power with a

view to his approval."

Molly was gratified by all this, and began to think that really,

after all, perhaps her father had done well for himself; and that

if she could help towards his new happiness, she ought to do it. So

she tried very conscientiously to think over Mr. Gibson's wishes and

ways; to ponder over what annoyed him the most in his household.

"I think," said she, "papa isn't particular about many things; but I

think our not having the dinner quite punctual--quite ready for him

when he comes in, fidgets him more than anything. You see, he has

often had a long ride, and there is another long ride to come, and he

has only half-an-hour--sometimes only a quarter--to eat his dinner

in."

"Thank you, my own love. Punctuality! Yes; it's a great thing in a

household. It's what I've had to enforce with my young ladies at

Ashcombe. No wonder poor dear Mr. Gibson has been displeased at his

dinner not being ready, and he so hard-worked!"