Molly interrupted him: she was chafed at the conceit of his manner.
"I beg your pardon, but I do not want to hear accounts of young
ladies whom you might have married; I come here simply on behalf of
Cynthia, who does not like you, and who does not wish to marry you."
"Well, then, I must make her 'like' me, as you call it. She did
'like' me once, and made promises which she will find it requires the
consent of two people to break. I don't despair of making her love me
as much as ever she did, according to her letters, at least, when we
are married."
"She will never marry you," said Molly, firmly.
"Then if she ever honours any one else with her preference, he shall
be allowed the perusal of her letters to me."
Molly almost could have laughed, she was so secure and certain
that Roger would never read letters offered to him under these
circumstances; but then she thought that he would feel such pain at
the whole affair, and at the contact with Mr. Preston, especially if
he had not heard of it from Cynthia first, and if she, Molly, could
save him pain she would. Before she could settle what to say, Mr.
Preston spoke again.
"You said the other day that Cynthia was engaged. May I ask whom to?"
"No," said Molly, "you may not. You heard her say it was not an
engagement. It is not exactly; and if it were a full engagement, do
you think, after what you last said, I should tell you to whom? But
you may be sure of this, he would never read a line of your letters.
He is too-- No! I won't speak of him before you. You could never
understand him."
"It seems to me that this mysterious 'he' is a very fortunate person
to have such a warm defender in Miss Gibson, to whom he is not at
all engaged," said Mr. Preston, with so disagreeable a look on his
face that Molly suddenly found herself on the point of bursting into
tears. But she rallied herself, and worked on--for Cynthia first, and
for Roger as well.
"No honourable man or woman will read your letters, and if any people
do read them, they will be so much ashamed of it that they won't dare
to speak of them. What use can they be of to you?"
"They contain Cynthia's reiterated promises of marriage," replied he.
"She says she would rather leave Hollingford for ever, and go out to
earn her bread, than marry you."
His face fell a little. He looked so bitterly mortified, that Molly
was almost sorry for him.