Wives and Daughters: An Every-Day Story - Page 122/572

And Roger missed her too. Sometimes her remarks had probed into his

mind, and excited him to the deep thought in which he delighted; at

other times he had felt himself of real help to her in her hours of

need, and in making her take an interest in books, which treated of

higher things than the continual fiction and poetry which she had

hitherto read. He felt something like an affectionate tutor suddenly

deprived of his most promising pupil; he wondered how she would go

on without him; whether she would be puzzled and disheartened by the

books he had lent her to read; how she and her stepmother would get

along together? She occupied his thoughts a good deal those first

few days after she left the hall. Mrs. Hamley regretted her more,

and longer than did the other two. She had given her the place of

a daughter in her heart; and now she missed the sweet feminine

companionship, the playful caresses, the never-ceasing attentions;

the very need of sympathy in her sorrows, that Molly had shown so

openly from time to time; all these things had extremely endeared her

to the tender-hearted Mrs. Hamley.

Molly, too, felt the change of atmosphere keenly; and she blamed

herself for so feeling even more keenly still. But she could not

help having a sense of refinement, which had made her appreciate the

whole manner of being at the Hall. By her dear old friends the Miss

Brownings she was petted and caressed so much that she became ashamed

of noticing the coarser and louder tones in which they spoke, the

provincialism of their pronunciation, the absence of interest in

things, and their greediness of details about persons. They asked her

questions which she was puzzled enough to answer about her future

stepmother; her loyalty to her father forbidding her to reply fully

and truthfully. She was always glad when they began to make inquiries

as to every possible affair at the Hall. She had been so happy there;

she had liked them all, down to the very dogs, so thoroughly, that it

was easy work replying: she did not mind telling them everything,

even to the style of Mrs. Hamley's invalid dress; nor what wine the

squire drank at dinner. Indeed, talking about these things helped

her to recall the happiest time in her life. But one evening, as

they were all sitting together after tea in the little upstairs

drawing-room, looking into the High Street--Molly discoursing away on

the various pleasures of Hamley Hall, and just then telling of all

Roger's wisdom in natural science, and some of the curiosities he had

shown her, she was suddenly pulled up by this little speech,--