Wives and Daughters: An Every-Day Story - Page 509/572

Molly was sitting in the drawing-room pale and trembling, and keeping

herself quiet only by a strong effort. She was the only person there

when Lady Harriet entered: the room was all in disorder, strewed with

presents and paper, and pasteboard boxes, and half-displayed articles

of finery.

"You look like Marius sitting amidst the ruins of Carthage, my dear!

What's the matter? Why have you got on that wobegone face? This

marriage isn't broken off, is it? Though nothing would surprise me

where the beautiful Cynthia is concerned."

"Oh, no! that's all right. But I have caught a fresh cold, and papa

says he thinks I had better not go to the wedding."

"Poor little one! And it's the first visit to London too!"

"Yes. But what I most care for is the not being with Cynthia to

the last; and then, papa"--she stopped, for she could hardly go

on without open crying, and she did not want to do that. Then she

cleared her voice. "Papa," she continued, "has so looked forward to

this holiday,--and seeing--and--, and going--oh! I can't tell you

where; but he has quite a list of people and sights to be seen,--and

now he says he should not be comfortable to leave me all alone for

more than three days,--two for travelling, and one for the wedding."

Just then Mrs. Gibson came in, ruffled too after her fashion, though

the presence of Lady Harriet was wonderfully smoothing.

"My dear Lady Harriet--how kind of you! Ah, yes, I see this poor

unfortunate child has been telling you of her ill-luck; just when

everything was going on so beautifully; I'm sure it was that open

window at your back, Molly,--you know you would persist that it could

do you no harm, and now you see the mischief! I'm sure I shan't be

able to enjoy myself--and at my only child's wedding too--without

you; for I can't think of leaving you without Maria. I would rather

sacrifice anything myself than think of you, uncared for, and dismal

at home."

"I am sure Molly is as sorry as any one," said Lady Harriet.

"No. I don't think she is," said Mrs. Gibson, with happy disregard of

the chronology of events, "or she would not have sate with her back

to an open window the day before yesterday, when I told her not. But

it can't be helped now. Papa too--but it is my duty to make the best

of everything, and look at the cheerful side of life. I wish I could

persuade her to do the same" (turning and addressing Lady Harriet).

"But, you see, it is a great mortification to a girl of her age to

lose her first visit to London."