Wives and Daughters: An Every-Day Story - Page 54/572

"Ah! you'd better go away, if you're going to teach Miss Gibson such

treason as that against the master of the house."

Molly went into the drawing-room with Mrs. Hamley, but her thoughts

did not change with the room. She could not help dwelling on the

danger which she fancied she had escaped, and was astonished at

her own stupidity at never having imagined such a possibility as

her father's second marriage. She felt that she was answering Mrs.

Hamley's remarks in a very unsatisfactory manner.

"There is papa, with the Squire!" she suddenly exclaimed. There they

were coming across the flower-garden from the stable-yard, her father

switching his boots with his riding whip, in order to make them

presentable in Mrs. Hamley's drawing-room. He looked so exactly like

his usual self, his home-self, that the seeing him in the flesh was

the most efficacious way of dispelling the phantom fears of a second

wedding, which were beginning to harass his daughter's mind; and the

pleasant conviction that he could not rest till he had come over

to see how she was going on in her new home, stole into her heart,

although he spoke but little to her, and that little was all in a

joking tone. After he had gone away, the Squire undertook to teach

her cribbage, and she was happy enough now to give him all her

attention. He kept on prattling while they played; sometimes in

relation to the cards; at others telling her of small occurrences

which he thought might interest her.

"So you don't know my boys, even by sight. I should have thought you

would have done, for they're fond enough of riding into Hollingford;

and I know Roger has often enough been to borrow books from your

father. Roger is a scientific sort of a fellow. Osborne is clever,

like his mother. I shouldn't wonder if he published a book some day.

You're not counting right, Miss Gibson. Why, I could cheat you as

easily as possible." And so on, till the butler came in with a solemn

look, placed a large prayer-book before his master, who huddled the

cards away in a hurry, as if caught in an incongruous employment; and

then the maids and men trooped in to prayers--the windows were still

open, and the sounds of the solitary corncrake, and the owl hooting

in the trees, mingled with the words spoken. Then to bed; and so

ended the day.

Molly looked out of her chamber window--leaning on the sill, and

snuffing up the night odours of the honeysuckle. The soft velvet

darkness hid everything that was at any distance from her; although

she was as conscious of their presence as if she had seen them.