"You seem to have seen a great deal of Mr. Roger, Molly!" said Miss
Browning, in a way intended to convey a great deal of meaning to her
sister and none at all to Molly. But--
The man recovered of the bite;
The dog it was that died.
Molly was perfectly aware of Miss Browning's emphatic tone, though at
first she was perplexed as to its cause; while Miss Phoebe was just
then too much absorbed in knitting the heel of her stocking to be
fully alive to her sister's nods and winks.
"Yes; he was very kind to me," said Molly, slowly, pondering over
Miss Browning's manner, and unwilling to say more until she had
satisfied herself to what the question tended.
"I daresay you will soon be going to Hamley Hall again? He's not
the eldest son, you know, Phoebe! Don't make my head ache with your
eternal 'eighteen, nineteen,' but attend to the conversation. Molly
is telling us how much she saw of Mr. Roger, and how kind he was to
her. I've always heard he was a very nice young man, my dear. Tell
us some more about him! Now, Phoebe, attend! How was he kind to you,
Molly?"
"Oh, he told me what books to read; and one day he made me notice how
many bees I saw--"
"Bees, child! What do you mean? Either you or he must have been
crazy!"
"No, not at all. There are more than two hundred kinds of bees in
England, and he wanted me to notice the difference between them and
flies. Miss Browning, I can't help seeing what you fancy," said
Molly, as red as fire, "but it is very wrong; it is all a mistake. I
won't speak another word about Mr. Roger or Hamley at all, if it puts
such silly notions into your head."
"Highty-tighty! Here's a young lady to be lecturing her elders! Silly
notions indeed! They are in your head, it seems. And let me tell you,
Molly, you are too young to let your mind be running on lovers."
Molly had been once or twice called saucy and impertinent, and
certainly a little sauciness came out now.
"I never said what the 'silly notion' was, Miss Browning; did I now,
Miss Phoebe? Don't you see, dear Miss Phoebe, it is all her own
interpretation, and according to her own fancy, this foolish talk
about lovers?"
Molly was flaming with indignation; but she had appealed to the
wrong person for justice. Miss Phoebe tried to make peace after the
fashion of weak-minded people, who would cover over the unpleasant
sight of a sore, instead of trying to heal it.