Mr. Gibson was not at home at dinner--detained by some patient, most
probably. This was not an unusual occurrence; but it _was_ rather an
unusual occurrence for Mrs. Gibson to go down into the dining-room,
and sit with him as he ate his deferred meal when he came in an hour
or two later. In general, she preferred her easy-chair, or her corner
of the sofa, upstairs in the drawing-room, though it was very rarely
that she would allow Molly to avail herself of her stepmother's
neglected privilege. Molly would fain have gone down and kept her
father company every night that he had these solitary meals; but for
peace and quietness she gave up her own wishes on the matter.
Mrs. Gibson took a seat by the fire in the dining-room, and patiently
waited for the auspicious moment when Mr. Gibson, having satisfied
his healthy appetite, turned from the table, and took his place by
her side. She got up, and with unaccustomed attention moved the wine
and glasses so that he could help himself without moving from his
chair.
"There, now! are you comfortable? for I have a great piece of news to
tell you!" said she, when all was arranged.
"I thought there was something on hand," said he, smiling. "Now for
it!"
"Roger Hamley has been here this afternoon to bid us good-by."
"Good-by! Is he gone? I didn't know he was going so soon!" exclaimed
Mr. Gibson.
"Yes: never mind, that's not it."
"But tell me; has he left this neighbourhood? I wanted to have seen
him."
"Yes, yes. He left love and regret, and all that sort of thing
for you. Now let me get on with my story: he found Cynthia alone,
proposed to her, and was accepted."
"Cynthia? Roger proposed to her, and she accepted him?" repeated Mr.
Gibson, slowly.
"Yes, to be sure. Why not? you speak as if it was something so very
surprising."
"Did I? But I am surprised. He's a very fine young fellow, and I
wish Cynthia joy; but do you like it? It will have to be a very long
engagement."
"Perhaps," said she, in a knowing manner.
"At any rate he will be away for two years," said Mr. Gibson.
"A great deal may happen in two years," she replied.
"Yes! he will have to run many risks, and go into many dangers, and
will come back no nearer to the power of maintaining a wife than when
he went out."
"I don't know that," she replied, still in the arch manner of one
possessing superior knowledge. "A little bird did tell me that
Osborne's life is not so very secure; and then--what will Roger be?
Heir to the estate."