"Perhaps. I daresay I'm all wrong, and that he is all right," said
Cynthia, piqued and pouting. "We used to say in France, that '_les
absens ont toujours tort_,' but really it seems as if here--" she
stopped. She was unwilling to be impertinent to a man whom she
respected and liked. She took up another point of her defence, and
rather made matters worse. "Besides, Roger would not allow me to
consider myself as finally engaged to him; I would willingly have
done it, but he would not let me."
"Nonsense. Don't let us go on talking about it, Cynthia! I've said
all that I mean to say. I believe that you were only thoughtless, as
I told you before. But don't let it happen again." He left the room
at once, to put a stop to the conversation, the continuance of which
would serve no useful purpose, and perhaps end by irritating him.
"Not guilty, but we recommend the prisoner not to do it again. It's
pretty much that, isn't it, Molly?" said Cynthia, letting her tears
downfall, even while she smiled. "I do believe your father might make
a good woman of me yet, if he would only take the pains, and wasn't
quite so severe. And to think of that stupid little fellow making all
this mischief! He pretended to take it to heart, as if he had loved
me for years instead of only for days. I daresay only for hours if
the truth were told."
"I was afraid he was becoming very fond of you," said Molly; "at
least it struck me once or twice; but I knew he could not stay long,
and I thought it would only make you uncomfortable if I said anything
about it. But now I wish I had!"
"It wouldn't have made a bit of difference," replied Cynthia. "I knew
he liked me, and I like to be liked; it's born in me to try to make
every one I come near fond of me; but then they shouldn't carry it
too far, for it becomes very troublesome if they do. I shall hate
red-haired people for the rest of my life. To think of such a man as
that being the cause of your father's displeasure with me!"
Molly had a question at her tongue's end that she longed to put; she
knew it was indiscreet, but at last out it came almost against her
will:
"Shall you tell Roger about it?"
Cynthia replied, "I've not thought about it--no! I don't think I
shall--there's no need. Perhaps, if we are ever married--"
"Ever married!" said Molly, under her breath. But Cynthia took no
notice of the exclamation until she had finished the sentence which
it interrupted.