Wives and Daughters: An Every-Day Story - Page 298/572

"Oh, no! not at all,"--and Mrs. Gibson nodded a little at her

daughter, as much as to say, "If any one, that."

Lady Harriet began to look at the pretty Miss Kirkpatrick with fresh

interest; her brother had spoken in such a manner of this young

Mr. Hamley that every one connected with the phoenix was worthy of

observation. Then, as if the mention of Molly's name had brought her

afresh into her mind, Lady Harriet said,--"And where is Molly all

this time? I should like to see my little mentor. I hear she is very

much grown since those days."

"Oh! when she once gets gossiping with the Miss Brownings, she never

knows when to come home," said Mrs. Gibson.

"The Miss Brownings? Oh! I'm so glad you named them! I'm very fond of

them. Pecksy and Flapsy; I may call them so in Molly's absence. I'll

go and see them before I go home, and then perhaps I shall see my

dear little Molly too. Do you know, Clare, I've quite taken a fancy

to that girl!"

So Mrs. Gibson, after all her precautions, had to submit to Lady

Harriet's leaving her half-an-hour earlier than she otherwise would

have done in order to "make herself common" (as Mrs. Gibson expressed

it) by calling on the Miss Brownings.

But Molly had left before Lady Harriet arrived.

Molly went the long walk to the Holly Farm, to order the damsons,

out of a kind of penitence. She had felt conscious of anger at being

sent out of the house by such a palpable manoeuvre as that which

her stepmother had employed. Of course she did not meet Cynthia, so

she went alone along the pretty lanes, with grassy sides and high

hedge-banks not at all in the style of modern agriculture. At first

she made herself uncomfortable with questioning herself as to how

far it was right to leave unnoticed the small domestic failings--the

webs, the distortions of truth which had prevailed in their household

ever since her father's second marriage. She knew that very often

she longed to protest, but did not do it, from the desire of sparing

her father any discord; and she saw by his face that he, too, was

occasionally aware of certain things that gave him pain, as showing

that his wife's standard of conduct was not as high as he would have

liked. It was a wonder to Molly whether this silence was right or

wrong. With a girl's want of toleration, and want of experience to

teach her the force of circumstances, and of temptation, she had

often been on the point of telling her stepmother some forcible home

truths. But, possibly, her father's example of silence, and often

some piece of kindness on Mrs. Gibson's part (for after her way, and

when in a good temper, she was very kind to Molly), made her hold her

tongue.