Wives and Daughters: An Every-Day Story - Page 263/572

During all the months that had elapsed since Mrs. Hamley's death,

Molly had wondered many a time about the secret she had so

unwittingly become possessed of that last day in the Hall library. It

seemed so utterly strange and unheard-of a thing to her inexperienced

mind, that a man should be married, and yet not live with his

wife--that a son should have entered into the holy state of matrimony

without his father's knowledge, and without being recognized as the

husband of some one known or unknown by all those with whom he came

in daily contact, that she felt occasionally as if that little ten

minutes of revelation must have been a vision in a dream. Roger

had only slightly referred to it once, and Osborne had kept entire

silence on the subject ever since. Not even a look, or a pause,

betrayed any allusion to it; it even seemed to have passed out of

their thoughts. There had been the great sad event of their mother's

death to fill their minds on the next occasion of their meeting

Molly; and since then long pauses of intercourse had taken place; so

that she sometimes felt as if both the brothers must have forgotten

how she had come to know their important secret. She even found

herself often entirely forgetting it, but perhaps the consciousness

of it was present to her unawares, and enabled her to comprehend the

real nature of Osborne's feelings towards Cynthia. At any rate, she

never for a moment had supposed that his gentle kind manner towards

Cynthia was anything but the courtesy of a friend. Strange to say, in

these latter days Molly had looked upon Osborne's relation to herself

as pretty much the same as that in which at one time she had regarded

Roger's; and she thought of the former as of some one as nearly a

brother both to Cynthia and herself, as any young man could well be,

whom they had not known in childhood, and who was in nowise related

to them. She thought that he was very much improved in manner, and

probably in character, by his mother's death. He was no longer

sarcastic, or fastidious, or vain, or self-confident. She did not

know how often all these styles of talk or of behaviour were put on

to conceal shyness or consciousness, and to veil the real self from

strangers.

Osborne's conversation and ways might very possibly have been just

the same as before, had he been thrown amongst new people; but Molly

only saw him in their own circle in which he was on terms of decided

intimacy. Still there was no doubt that he was really improved,

though perhaps not to the extent for which Molly gave him credit; and

this exaggeration on her part arose very naturally from the fact,

that he, perceiving Roger's warm admiration for Cynthia, withdrew a

little out of his brother's way; and used to go and talk to Molly in

order not to intrude himself between Roger and Cynthia. Of the two,

perhaps, Osborne preferred Molly; to her he needed not to talk if the

mood was not on him--they were on those happy terms where silence is

permissible, and where efforts to act against the prevailing mood of

the mind are not required. Sometimes, indeed, when Osborne was in the

humour to be critical and fastidious as of yore, he used to vex Roger

by insisting upon it that Molly was prettier than Cynthia.