She looked at herself in the glass with some anxiety, for the first
time in her life. She saw a slight, lean figure, promising to be
tall; a complexion browner than cream-coloured, although in a year or
two it might have that tint; plentiful curly black hair, tied up in a
bunch behind with a rose-coloured ribbon; long, almond-shaped, soft
gray eyes, shaded both above and below by curling black eyelashes.
"I don't think I am pretty," thought Molly, as she turned away from
the glass; "and yet I'm not sure." She would have been sure, if,
instead of inspecting herself with such solemnity, she had smiled her
own sweet merry smile, and called out the gleam of her teeth, and the
charm of her dimples.
She found her way downstairs into the drawing-room in good time;
she could look about her, and learn how to feel at home in her
new quarters. The room was forty-feet long or so, fitted up with
yellow satin at some distant period; high spindle-legged chairs and
pembroke-tables abounded. The carpet was of the same date as the
curtains, and was thread-bare in many places; and in others was
covered with drugget. Stands of plants, great jars of flowers,
old Indian china and cabinets gave the room the pleasant aspect
it certainly had. And to add to it, there were five high, long
windows on one side of the room, all opening to the prettiest
bit of flower-garden in the grounds--or what was considered as
such--brilliant-coloured, geometrically-shaped beds, converging
to a sun-dial in the midst. The Squire came in abruptly, and in
his morning dress; he stood at the door, as if surprised at the
white-robed stranger in possession of his hearth. Then, suddenly
remembering himself, but not before Molly had begun to feel very hot,
he said--
"Why, God bless my soul, I'd quite forgotten you; you're Miss Gibson,
Gibson's daughter, aren't you? Come to pay us a visit? I'm sure I'm
very glad to see you, my dear."
By this time, they had met in the middle of the room, and he was
shaking Molly's hand with vehement friendliness, intended to make up
for his not knowing her at first.
"I must go and dress, though," said he, looking at his soiled
gaiters. "Madam likes it. It's one of her fine London ways, and she's
broken me into it at last. Very good plan, though, and quite right
to make oneself fit for ladies' society. Does your father dress for
dinner, Miss Gibson?" He did not stay to wait for her answer, but
hastened away to perform his toilette.
They dined at a small table in a great large room. There were so few
articles of furniture in it, and the apartment itself was so vast,
that Molly longed for the snugness of the home dining-room; nay,
it is to be feared that, before the stately dinner at Hamley Hall
came to an end, she even regretted the crowded chairs and tables,
the hurry of eating, the quick unformal manner in which everybody
seemed to finish their meal as fast as possible, and to return to the
work they had left. She tried to think that at six o'clock all the
business of the day was ended, and that people might linger if they
chose. She measured the distance from the sideboard to the table with
her eye, and made allowances for the men who had to carry things
backwards and forwards; but, all the same, this dinner appeared to
her a wearisome business, prolonged because the Squire liked it, for
Mrs. Hamley seemed tired out. She ate even less than Molly, and sent
for fan and smelling-bottle to amuse herself with, until at length
the table-cloth was cleared away, and the dessert was put upon a
mahogany table, polished like a looking-glass.