"--and I can see his face and know his mood, I may tell it him then;
but not in writing, and when he is absent; it might annoy him."
"I am afraid it would make him uncomfortable," said Molly,
simply. "And yet it must be so pleasant to be able to tell him
everything--all your difficulties and troubles."
"Yes; only I don't worry him with these things; it's better to
write him merry letters, and cheer him up among the black folk. You
repeated 'Ever married,' a little while ago; do you know, Molly, I
don't think I ever shall be married to him? I don't know why, but I
have a strong presentiment, so it's just as well not to tell him all
my secrets, for it would be awkward for him to know them if it never
came off!"
Molly dropped her work, and sat silent, looking into the future; at
length she said, "I think it would break his heart, Cynthia!"
"Nonsense. Why, I'm sure that Mr. Coxe came here with the intention
of falling in love with you--you needn't blush so violently. I'm sure
you saw it as plainly as I did, only you made yourself disagreeable,
and I took pity on him, and consoled his wounded vanity."
"Can you--do you dare to compare Roger Hamley to Mr. Coxe?" asked
Molly, indignantly.
"No, no, I don't!" said Cynthia in a moment. "They are as different
as men can be. Don't be so dreadfully serious over everything, Molly.
You look as oppressed with sad reproach, as if I had been passing on
to you the scolding your father gave me."
"Because I don't think you value Roger as you ought, Cynthia!" said
Molly stoutly, for it required a good deal of courage to force
herself to say this, although she could not tell why she shrank so
from speaking.
"Yes, I do! It's not in my nature to go into ecstasies, and I don't
suppose I shall ever be what people call 'in love.' But I am glad he
loves me, and I like to make him happy, and I think him the best and
most agreeable man I know, always excepting your father when he isn't
angry with me. What can I say more, Molly? would you like me to say I
think him handsome?"
"I know most people think him plain, but--"
"Well, I'm of the opinion of most people then, and small blame to
them. But I like his face--oh, ten thousand times better than Mr.
Preston's handsomeness!" For the first time during the conversation
Cynthia seemed thoroughly in earnest. Why Mr. Preston was introduced
neither she nor Molly knew; it came up and out by a sudden impulse;
but a fierce look came into the eyes, and the soft lips contracted
themselves as Cynthia named his name. Molly had noticed this look
before, always at the mention of this one person.