Wives and Daughters: An Every-Day Story - Page 499/572

The next morning saw Mrs. Gibson in a much more contented frame of

mind. She had written and posted her letter, and the next thing was

to keep Cynthia in what she called a reasonable state, or, in other

words, to try and cajole her into docility. But it was so much labour

lost. Cynthia had already received a letter from Mr. Henderson before

she came down to breakfast,--a declaration of love, a proposal of

marriage as clear as words could make it; together with an intimation

that, unable to wait for the slow delays of the post, he was going

to follow her down to Hollingford, and would arrive at the same time

that she had done herself on the previous day. Cynthia said nothing

about this letter to any one. She came late into the breakfast-room,

after Mr. and Mrs. Gibson had finished the actual business of the

meal; but her unpunctuality was quite accounted for by the fact that

she had been travelling all the night before. Molly was not as yet

strong enough to get up so early. Cynthia hardly spoke, and did not

touch her food. Mr. Gibson went about his daily business, and Cynthia

and her mother were left alone.

"My dear," said Mrs. Gibson, "you are not eating your breakfast as

you should do. I am afraid our meals seem very plain and homely to

you after those in Hyde Park Street?"

"No," said Cynthia; "I'm not hungry, that's all."

"If we were as rich as your uncle, I should feel it to be both a duty

and a pleasure to keep an elegant table; but limited means are a

sad clog to one's wishes. I don't suppose that, work as he will, Mr.

Gibson can earn more than he does at present; while the capabilities

of the law are boundless. Lord Chancellor! Titles as well as

fortune!"

Cynthia was almost too much absorbed in her own reflections to reply,

but she did say,--"Hundreds of briefless barristers. Take the other

side, mamma."

"Well; but I have noticed that many of these have private fortunes."

"Perhaps. Mamma, I expect Mr. Henderson will come and call this

morning."

"Oh, my precious child! But how do you know? My darling Cynthia, am I

to congratulate you?"

"No! I suppose I must tell you. I have had a letter this morning from

him, and he's coming down by the 'Umpire' to-day."

"But he has offered? He surely must mean to offer, at any rate?"

Cynthia played with her teaspoon before she replied; then she looked

up, like one startled from a dream, and caught the echo of her

mother's question.