Wives and Daughters: An Every-Day Story - Page 435/572

"Really, dear!" said she, stroking Molly's head, "I think your hair

is getting softer, and losing that disagreeable crisp curly feeling."

Then Molly knew that her stepmother was in high good-humour; the

smoothness or curliness of her hair was a sure test of the favour in

which Mrs. Gibson held her at the moment.

"I am so sorry to be the cause of detaining you from this little

party, but dear papa is so over-anxious about me. I have always been

a kind of pet with gentlemen, and poor Mr. Kirkpatrick never knew how

to make enough of me. But I think Mr. Gibson is even more foolishly

fond: his last words were, 'Take care of yourself, Hyacinth;' and

then he came back again to say, 'If you don't attend to my directions

I won't answer for the consequences.' I shook my forefinger at him,

and said, 'Don't be so anxious, you silly man.'"

"I hope we have done everything he told us to do," said Molly.

"Oh yes! I feel so much better. Do you know, late as it is, I think

you might go to Mrs. Goodenough's yet? Maria could take you, and I

should like to see you dressed; when one has been wearing dull warm

gowns for a week or two one gets quite a craving for bright colours,

and evening dress. So go and get ready, dear, and then perhaps you'll

bring me back some news, for really, shut up as I have been with only

papa and you for the last fortnight, I've got quite moped and dismal,

and I can't bear to keep young people from the gaieties suitable to

their age."

"Oh, pray, mamma! I had so much rather not go!"

"Very well! very well! Only I think it is rather selfish of you, when

you see I am so willing to make the sacrifice for your sake."

"But you say it is a sacrifice to you, and I don't want to go."

"Very well; did I not say you might stop at home? only pray don't

chop logic; nothing is so fatiguing to a sick person."

Then they were silent for some time. Mrs. Gibson broke the silence by

saying, in a languid voice--

"Can't you think of anything amusing to say, Molly?"

Molly pumped up from the depths of her mind a few little trivialities

which she had nearly forgotten, but she felt that they were anything

but amusing, and so Mrs. Gibson seemed to feel them; for presently

she said--

"I wish Cynthia was at home." And Molly felt it as a reproach to her

own dulness.