They were taken by their host into a wainscoted parlour, where a
wood fire crackled and burnt, and the crimson curtains shut out the
waning day and the outer chill. Here the table was laid for dinner;
snowy table-linen, bright silver, clear sparkling glass, wine and an
autumnal dessert on the sideboard. Yet Mr. Preston kept apologizing
to Molly for the rudeness of his bachelor home, for the smallness of
the room, the great dining-room being already appropriated by his
housekeeper, in preparation for the morrow's breakfast. And then he
rang for a servant to show Molly to her room. She was taken into a
most comfortable chamber; a wood fire on the hearth, candles lighted
on the toilette-table, dark woollen curtains surrounding a snow-white
bed, great vases of china standing here and there.
"This is my Lady Harriet's room when her ladyship comes to the
Manor-house with my lord the earl," said the housemaid, striking
out thousands of brilliant sparks by a well-directed blow at a
smouldering log. "Shall I help you to dress, miss? I always helps her
ladyship."
Molly, quite aware of the fact that she had but her white muslin gown
for the wedding besides that she had on, dismissed the good woman,
and was thankful to be left to herself.
"Dinner" was it called? Why, it was nearly eight o'clock; and
preparations for bed seemed a more natural employment than dressing
at this hour of night. All the dressing she could manage was the
placing of a red damask rose or two in the band of her grey stuff
gown, there being a great nosegay of choice autumnal flowers on the
toilette-table. She did try the effect of another crimson rose in
her black hair, just above her ear; it was very pretty, but too
coquettish, and so she put it back again. The dark-oak panels and
wainscoting of the whole house seemed to glow in warm light; there
were so many fires in different rooms, in the hall, and even one on
the landing of the staircase. Mr. Preston must have heard her step,
for he met her in the hall, and led her into a small drawing-room,
with closed folding-doors on one side, opening into the larger
drawing-room, as he told her. This room into which she entered
reminded her a little of Hamley--yellow-satin upholstery of seventy
or a hundred years ago, all delicately kept and scrupulously clean;
great Indian cabinets, and china jars, emitting spicy odours; a large
blazing fire, before which her father stood in his morning dress,
grave and thoughtful, as he had been all day.
"This room is that which Lady Harriet uses when she comes here with
her father for a day or two," said Mr. Preston. And Molly tried to
save her father by being ready to talk herself.