Wives and Daughters: An Every-Day Story - Page 429/572

With his head bent down--as if he were facing some keen-blowing

wind--and yet there was not a breath of air stirring--Mr. Gibson

went swiftly to his own home. He rang at the door-bell; an unusual

proceeding on his part. Maria opened the door. "Go and tell Miss

Molly she's wanted in the dining-room. Don't say who it is that wants

her." There was something in Mr. Gibson's manner that made Maria obey

him to the letter, in spite of Molly's surprised question,--

"Wants me? Who is it, Maria?"

Mr. Gibson went into the dining-room, and shut the door, for an

instant's solitude. He went up to the chimney-piece, took hold of it,

and laid his head on his hands, and tried to still the beating of his

heart.

The door opened. He knew that Molly stood there before he heard her

tone of astonishment.

"Papa!"

"Hush!" said he, turning round sharply. "Shut the door. Come here."

She came to him, wondering what was amiss. Her thoughts went to the

Hamleys immediately. "Is it Osborne?" she asked, breathless. If Mr.

Gibson had not been too much agitated to judge calmly, he might have

deduced comfort from these three words.

But instead of allowing himself to seek for comfort from collateral

evidence, he said,--"Molly, what is this I hear? That you have been

keeping up a clandestine intercourse with Mr. Preston--meeting him

in out-of-the-way places; exchanging letters with him in a stealthy

way?"

Though he had professed to disbelieve all this, and did disbelieve it

at the bottom of his soul, his voice was hard and stern, his face was

white and grim, and his eyes fixed Molly's with the terrible keenness

of their research. Molly trembled all over, but she did not attempt

to evade his penetration. If she was silent for a moment, it was

because she was rapidly reviewing her relation with regard to Cynthia

in the matter. It was but a moment's pause of silence; but it seemed

long minutes to one who was craving for a burst of indignant denial.

He had taken hold of her two arms just above her wrists, as she had

advanced towards him; he was unconscious of this action; but, as his

impatience for her words grew upon him, he grasped her more and more

tightly in his vice-like hands, till she made a little involuntary

sound of pain. And then he let go; and she looked at her soft bruised

flesh, with tears gathering fast to her eyes to think that he, her

father, should have hurt her so. At the instant it appeared to her

stranger that he should inflict bodily pain upon his child, than that

he should have heard the truth--even in an exaggerated form. With a

childish gesture she held out her arm to him; but if she expected

pity, she received none.