"Oh, mamma, I cannot go!" cried Molly. "I've been so much with her;
and she may be suffering so, or even dying--and I to be dancing!"
"Nonsense! You're no relation, so you need not feel it so much. I
wouldn't urge you, if she was likely to know about it and be hurt;
but as it is, it's all fixed that you are to go; and don't let us
have any nonsense about it. We might sit twirling our thumbs, and
repeating hymns all our lives long, if we were to do nothing else
when people were dying."
"I cannot go," repeated Molly. And, acting upon impulse, and almost
to her own surprise, she appealed to her father, who came into the
room at this very time. He contracted his dark eyebrows, and looked
annoyed as both wife and daughter poured their different sides of the
argument into his ears. He sat down in desperation of patience. When
his turn came to pronounce a decision, he said,--
"I suppose I can have some lunch? I went away at six this morning,
and there's nothing in the dining-room. I have to go off again
directly."
Molly started to the door; Mrs. Gibson made haste to ring the bell.
"Where are you going, Molly?" said she, sharply.
"Only to see about papa's lunch."
"There are servants to do it; and I don't like your going into the
kitchen."
"Come, Molly! sit down and be quiet," said her father. "One comes
home wanting peace and quietness--and food too. If I am to be
appealed to, which I beg I may not be another time, I settle that
Molly stops at home this evening. I shall come back late and tired.
See that I have something ready to eat, goosey, and then I'll dress
myself up in my best, and go and fetch you home, my dear. I wish all
these wedding festivities were well over. Ready, is it? Then I'll go
into the dining-room and gorge myself. A doctor ought to be able to
eat like a camel, or like Major Dugald Dalgetty."
It was well for Molly that callers came in just at this time, for
Mrs. Gibson was extremely annoyed. They told her some little local
piece of news, however, which filled up her mind; and Molly found
that, if she only expressed wonder enough at the engagement they had
both heard of from the departed callers, the previous discussion as
to her accompanying her stepmother or not might be entirely passed
over. Not entirely though; for the next morning she had to listen to
a very brilliantly touched-up account of the dance and the gaiety
which she had missed; and also to be told that Mrs. Gibson had
changed her mind about giving her the gown, and thought now that
she should reserve it for Cynthia, if only it was long enough; but
Cynthia was so tall--quite overgrown, in fact. The chances seemed
equally balanced as to whether Molly might not have the gown after
all.