Wives and Daughters: An Every-Day Story - Page 485/572

"To be sure," said the Squire, setting the child down. He had been

holding him in his arms the last few minutes: but now he wanted all

his eyes to look into Mr. Gibson's face. "I say," said he, catching

hold of Mr. Gibson's arm, "what's the matter, man? Don't twitch up

your face like that, but speak!"

"Nothing's the matter," said Mr. Gibson, hastily. "Only I want her at

home, under my own eye;" and he turned away to go to the house. But

the Squire left his field and his weeders, and kept at Mr. Gibson's

side. He wanted to speak, but his heart was so full he did not know

what to say. "I say, Gibson," he got out at last, "your Molly is

liker a child of mine than a stranger; and I reckon we've all on us

been coming too hard upon her. You don't think there's much amiss, do

you?"

"How can I tell?" said Mr. Gibson, almost savagely. But any hastiness

of temper was instinctively understood by the Squire; and he was not

offended, though he did not speak again till they reached the house.

Then he went to order the carriage, and stood by sorrowful enough

while the horses were being put in. He felt as if he should not know

what to do without Molly; he had never known her value, he thought,

till now. But he kept silence on this view of the case; which was a

praiseworthy effort on the part of one who usually let by-standers

see and hear as much of his passing feelings as if he had had a

window in his breast. He stood by while Mr. Gibson helped the

faintly-smiling, tearful Molly into the carriage. Then the Squire

mounted on the step and kissed her hand; but when he tried to thank

her and bless her, he broke down; and as soon as he was once more

safely on the ground, Mr. Gibson cried out to the coachman to drive

on. And so Molly left Hamley Hall. From time to time her father

rode up to the window, and made some little cheerful and apparently

careless remark. When they came within two miles of Hollingford, he

put spurs to his horse, and rode briskly past the carriage windows,

kissing his hand to the occupant as he did so. He went on to prepare

her home for Molly: when she arrived Mrs. Gibson was ready to greet

her. Mr. Gibson had given one or two of his bright, imperative

orders, and Mrs. Gibson was feeling rather lonely "without either of

her two dear girls at home," as she phrased it, to herself as well as

to others.