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.