Mr. Gibson bowed, much pleased at such a compliment from such a man,
were he lord or not. It is very likely that if Molly had been a
stupid listener, Lord Hollingford would not have discovered her
beauty; or the converse might be asserted--if she had not been young
and pretty, he would not have exerted himself to talk on scientific
subjects in a manner which she could understand. But in whatever way
Molly had won his approbation and admiration, there was no doubt that
she had earned it somehow. And, when she next returned to her place,
Mrs. Gibson greeted her with soft words and a gracious smile; for
it does not require much reasoning power to discover, that if it
is a very fine thing to be mother-in-law to a very magnificent
three-tailed bashaw, it presupposes that the wife who makes the
connection between the two parties is in harmony with her mother. And
so far had Mrs. Gibson's thoughts wandered into futurity. She only
wished that the happy chance had fallen to Cynthia's instead of to
Molly's lot. But Molly was a docile, sweet creature, very pretty,
and remarkably intelligent, as my lord had said. It was a pity that
Cynthia preferred making millinery to reading; but perhaps that could
be rectified. And there was Lord Cumnor coming to speak to her, and
Lady Cumnor nodding to her, and indicating a place by her side.
It was not an unsatisfactory ball upon the whole to Mrs. Gibson,
although she paid the usual penalty for sitting up beyond her
ordinary hour in perpetual glare and movement. The next morning
she awoke irritable and fatigued; and a little of the same feeling
oppressed both Cynthia and Molly. The former was lounging in the
window-seat, holding a three-days'-old newspaper in her hand, which
she was making a pretence of reading, when she was startled by her
mother's saying,--
"Cynthia! can't you take up a book and improve yourself? I am sure
your conversation will never be worth listening to, unless you read
something better than newspapers. Why don't you keep up your French?
There was some French book that Molly was reading--_Le Règne Animal_,
I think."
"No! I never read it!" said Molly, blushing. "Mr. Roger Hamley
sometimes read pieces out of it when I was first at the Hall, and
told me what it was about."
"Oh! well. Then I suppose I was mistaken. But it comes to all the
same thing. Cynthia, you really must learn to settle yourself to some
improving reading every morning."
Rather to Molly's surprise, Cynthia did not reply a word; but
dutifully went and brought down from among her Boulogne school-books,
Le Siècle de Louis XIV. But after a while, Molly saw that this
"improving reading" was just as much a mere excuse for Cynthia's
thinking her own thoughts as the newspaper had been.