"Take care; you'll have to eat your words presently when you come to
fancy he'll have Hamley some day."
"No, I shan't," said she, not perceiving his exact drift. "You are
vexed now because it is not Molly he's in love with; and I call it
very unjust and unfair to my poor fatherless girl. I am sure I have
always tried to further Molly's interests as if she was my own
daughter."
Mr. Gibson was too indifferent to this accusation to take any notice
of it. He returned to what was of far more importance to him.
"The point I want to be clear about is this. Did you or did you not
alter your behaviour to Roger in consequence of what you overheard of
my professional conversation with Dr. Nicholls? Have you not favoured
his suit to Cynthia since then, on the understanding gathered from
that conversation that he stood a good chance of inheriting Hamley?"
"I suppose I did," said she, sulkily. "And if I did, I can't
see any harm in it, that I should be questioned as if I were
in a witness-box. He was in love with Cynthia long before that
conversation, and she liked him so much. It was not for me to cross
the path of true love. I don't see how you would have a mother show
her love for her child if she may not turn accidental circumstances
to her advantage. Perhaps Cynthia might have died if she had been
crossed in love; her poor father was consumptive."
"Don't you know that all professional conversations are confidential?
That it would be the most dishonourable thing possible for me to
betray secrets which I learn in the exercise of my profession?"
"Yes, of course, you."
"Well! and are not you and I one in all these respects? You cannot do
a dishonourable act without my being inculpated in the disgrace. If
it would be a deep disgrace for me to betray a professional secret,
what would it be for me to trade on that knowledge?"
He was trying hard to be patient; but the offence was of that class
which galled him insupportably.
"I don't know what you mean by trading. Trading in a daughter's
affections is the last thing I should do; and I should have thought
you would be rather glad than otherwise to get Cynthia well married,
and off your hands."
Mr. Gibson got up, and walked about the room, his hands in his
pockets. Once or twice he began to speak, but he stopped impatiently
short without going on.
"I don't know what to say to you," he said at length. "You either
can't or won't see what I mean. I'm glad enough to have Cynthia here.
I have given her a true welcome, and I sincerely hope she will find
this house as much a home as my own daughter does. But for the future
I must look out of my doors, and double-lock the approaches if I am
so foolish as to-- However, that's past and gone; and it remains with
me to prevent its recurrence as far as I can for the future. Now let
us hear the present state of affairs."