"I think I shall like you. I am so glad! I was afraid I should not.
We're all in a very awkward position together, aren't we? I like your
father's looks, though."
Molly could not help smiling at the way this was said. Cynthia
replied to her smile.
"Ah, you may laugh. But I don't know that I am easy to get on with;
mamma and I didn't suit when we were last together. But perhaps we
are each of us wiser now. Now, please leave me for a quarter of an
hour. I don't want anything more."
Molly went into her own room, waiting to show Cynthia down to the
dining-room. Not that, in the moderate-sized house, there was any
difficulty in finding the way. A very little trouble in conjecturing
would enable a stranger to discover any room. But Cynthia had
so captivated Molly, that she wanted to devote herself to the
new-comer's service. Ever since she had heard of the probability
of her having a sister--(she called her a sister, but whether it was
a Scotch sister, or a sister _à la mode de Brétagne_, would have
puzzled most people)--Molly had allowed her fancy to dwell much on
the idea of Cynthia's coming; and in the short time since they had
met, Cynthia's unconscious power of fascination had been exercised
upon her. Some people have this power. Of course, its effects are
only manifested in the susceptible. A school-girl may be found in
every school who attracts and influences all the others, not by her
virtues, nor her beauty, nor her sweetness, nor her cleverness, but
by something that can neither be described nor reasoned upon. It is
the something alluded to in the old lines:--
Love me not for comely grace,
For my pleasing eye and face;
No, nor for my constant heart,--
For these may change, and turn to ill,
And thus true love may sever.
But love me on, and know not why,
So hast thou the same reason still
To dote upon me ever.
A woman will have this charm, not only over men but over her own
sex; it cannot be defined, or rather it is so delicate a mixture
of many gifts and qualities that it is impossible to decide on the
proportions of each. Perhaps it is incompatible with very high
principle; as its essence seems to consist in the most exquisite
power of adaptation to varying people and still more various moods;
"being all things to all men." At any rate, Molly might soon have
been aware that Cynthia was not remarkable for unflinching morality;
but the glamour thrown over her would have prevented Molly from any
attempt at penetrating into and judging her companion's character,
even had such processes been the least in accordance with her own
disposition.