Wives and Daughters: An Every-Day Story - Page 181/572

"I think I shall like you. I am so glad! I was afraid I should not.

We're all in a very awkward position together, aren't we? I like your

father's looks, though."

Molly could not help smiling at the way this was said. Cynthia

replied to her smile.

"Ah, you may laugh. But I don't know that I am easy to get on with;

mamma and I didn't suit when we were last together. But perhaps we

are each of us wiser now. Now, please leave me for a quarter of an

hour. I don't want anything more."

Molly went into her own room, waiting to show Cynthia down to the

dining-room. Not that, in the moderate-sized house, there was any

difficulty in finding the way. A very little trouble in conjecturing

would enable a stranger to discover any room. But Cynthia had

so captivated Molly, that she wanted to devote herself to the

new-comer's service. Ever since she had heard of the probability

of her having a sister--(she called her a sister, but whether it was

a Scotch sister, or a sister _à la mode de Brétagne_, would have

puzzled most people)--Molly had allowed her fancy to dwell much on

the idea of Cynthia's coming; and in the short time since they had

met, Cynthia's unconscious power of fascination had been exercised

upon her. Some people have this power. Of course, its effects are

only manifested in the susceptible. A school-girl may be found in

every school who attracts and influences all the others, not by her

virtues, nor her beauty, nor her sweetness, nor her cleverness, but

by something that can neither be described nor reasoned upon. It is

the something alluded to in the old lines:--

Love me not for comely grace,

For my pleasing eye and face;

No, nor for my constant heart,--

For these may change, and turn to ill,

And thus true love may sever.

But love me on, and know not why,

So hast thou the same reason still

To dote upon me ever.

A woman will have this charm, not only over men but over her own

sex; it cannot be defined, or rather it is so delicate a mixture

of many gifts and qualities that it is impossible to decide on the

proportions of each. Perhaps it is incompatible with very high

principle; as its essence seems to consist in the most exquisite

power of adaptation to varying people and still more various moods;

"being all things to all men." At any rate, Molly might soon have

been aware that Cynthia was not remarkable for unflinching morality;

but the glamour thrown over her would have prevented Molly from any

attempt at penetrating into and judging her companion's character,

even had such processes been the least in accordance with her own

disposition.