Wives and Daughters: An Every-Day Story - Page 199/572

But though he was not there, his brother Roger was. Molly saw him in

a minute when she entered the little drawing-room; but Cynthia did

not.

"And see, my dears," said Miss Phoebe Browning, turning them round

to the side where Roger stood waiting for his turn of speaking

to Molly, "we've got a gentleman for you after all! Wasn't it

fortunate?--just as sister said that you might find it dull--you,

Cynthia, she meant, because you know you come from France--then, just

as if he had been sent from heaven, Mr. Roger came in to call; and I

won't say we laid violent hands on him, because he was too good for

that; but really we should have been near it, if he had not stayed of

his own accord."

The moment Roger had done his cordial greeting to Molly, he asked her

to introduce him to Cynthia.

"I want to know her--your new sister," he added, with the kind smile

Molly remembered so well since the very first day she had seen it

directed towards her, as she sate crying under the weeping ash.

Cynthia was standing a little behind Molly when Roger asked for this

introduction. She was generally dressed with careless grace. Molly,

who was delicate neatness itself, used sometimes to wonder how

Cynthia's tumbled gowns, tossed away so untidily, had the art of

looking so well, and falling in such graceful folds. For instance,

the pale lilac muslin gown she wore this evening had been worn many

times before, and had looked unfit to wear again till Cynthia put

it on. Then the limpness became softness, and the very creases took

the lines of beauty. Molly, in a daintily clean pink muslin, did not

look half so elegantly dressed as Cynthia. The grave eyes that the

latter raised when she had to be presented to Roger had a sort of

child-like innocence and wonder about them, which did not quite

belong to Cynthia's character. She put on her armour of magic that

evening--involuntarily as she always did; but, on the other side, she

could not help trying her power on strangers. Molly had always felt

that she should have a right to a good long talk with Roger when she

next saw him; and that he would tell her, or she should gather from

him all the details she so longed to hear about the Squire--about

the Hall--about Osborne--about himself. He was just as cordial and

friendly as ever with her. If Cynthia had not been there, all would

have gone on as she had anticipated; but of all the victims to

Cynthia's charms he fell most prone and abject. Molly saw it all,

as she was sitting next to Miss Phoebe at the tea-table, acting

right-hand, and passing cake, cream, sugar, with such busy assiduity

that every one besides herself thought that her mind, as well as her

hands, was fully occupied. She tried to talk to the two shy girls,

as in virtue of her two years' seniority she thought herself bound

to do; and the consequence was, she went upstairs with the twain

clinging to her arms, and willing to swear an eternal friendship.

Nothing would satisfy them but that she must sit between them at

vingt-un; and they were so desirous of her advice in the important

point of fixing the price of the counters that she could not ever

have joined in the animated conversation going on between Roger and

Cynthia. Or, rather, it would be more correct to say that Roger was

talking in a most animated manner to Cynthia, whose sweet eyes were

fixed upon his face with a look of great interest in all he was

saying, while it was only now and then she made her low replies.

Molly caught a few words occasionally in intervals of business.