"Yes; and I am sure you might have done,--there's the ingratitude! I
am not so unjust as to want you to do what you can't do!" said Mrs.
Gibson, querulously.
"But where's the ingratitude, mamma? I'm very much tired, and perhaps
that makes me stupid; but I cannot see the ingratitude." Cynthia
spoke very wearily, leaning her head back on the sofa-cushions, as if
she did not care to have an answer.
"Why, don't you see we are doing all we can for you; dressing you
well, and sending you to London; and when you might relieve us of the
expense of all this, you don't."
"No! Cynthia, I will speak," said Molly, all crimson with
indignation, and pushing away Cynthia's restraining hand. "I am sure
papa does not feel, and does not mind, any expense he incurs about
his daughters. And I know quite well that he does not wish us to
marry, unless--" She faltered and stopped.
"Unless what?" said Mrs. Gibson, half-mocking.
"Unless we love some one very dearly indeed," said Molly, in a low,
firm tone.
"Well, after this tirade--really rather indelicate, I must say--I
have done. I will neither help nor hinder any love-affairs of you two
young ladies. In my days we were glad of the advice of our elders."
And she left the room to put into fulfilment an idea which had just
struck her: to write a confidential letter to Mrs. Kirkpatrick,
giving her her version of Cynthia's "unfortunate entanglement," and
"delicate sense of honour," and hints of her entire indifference
to all the masculine portion of the world, Mr. Henderson being
dexterously excluded from the category.
"Oh, dear!" said Molly, throwing herself back in a chair, with a sigh
of relief, as Mrs. Gibson left the room; "how cross I do get since
I've been ill! But I couldn't bear her to speak as if papa grudged
you anything."
"I'm sure he doesn't, Molly. You need not defend him on my account.
But I'm sorry mamma still looks upon me as 'an encumbrance,' as the
advertisements in _The Times_ always call us unfortunate children.
But I've been an encumbrance to her all my life. I'm getting very
much into despair about everything, Molly. I shall try my luck in
Russia. I've heard of a situation as English governess at Moscow, in
a family owning whole provinces of land, and serfs by the hundred. I
put off writing my letter till I came home; I shall be as much out
of the way there as if I was married. Oh, dear! travelling all night
isn't good for the spirits. How is Mr. Preston?"