"I believe in senior wranglers," said Cynthia, her clear high voice
ringing through the room. "And from all I've ever heard of Mr. Roger
Hamley, I believe he will keep up the distinction he has earned. And
I don't believe that the house of Hamley is so near extinction in
wealth and fame, and good name."
"They are fortunate in having Miss Kirkpatrick's good word," said Mr.
Preston, rising to take his leave.
"Dear Molly," said Cynthia, in a whisper, "I know nothing about your
friends the Hamleys, except that they are your friends, and what you
have told me about them. But I won't have that man speaking of them
so--and your eyes filling with tears all the time. I'd sooner swear
to their having all the talents and good fortune under the sun."
The only person of whom Cynthia appeared to be wholesomely afraid
was Mr. Gibson. When he was present she was more careful in speaking,
and showed more deference to her mother. Her evident respect for him,
and desire to win his good opinion, made her curb herself before him;
and in this manner she earned his favour as a lively, sensible girl,
with just so much knowledge of the world as made her a very desirable
companion to Molly. Indeed, she made something of the same kind of
impression on all men. They were first struck with her personal
appearance; and then with her pretty deprecating manner, which
appealed to them much as if she had said, "You are wise, and I am
foolish--have mercy on my folly." It was a way she had; it meant
nothing really; and she was hardly conscious of it herself; but it
was very captivating all the same. Even old Williams, the gardener,
felt it; he said to his confidante, Molly--
"Eh, miss, but that be a rare young lady! She do have such pretty
coaxing ways. I be to teach her to bud roses come the season--and
I'll warrant ye she'll learn sharp enough, for all she says she bees
so stupid."
If Molly had not had the sweetest disposition in the world she might
have become jealous of all the allegiance laid at Cynthia's feet;
but she never thought of comparing the amount of admiration and
love which they each received. Yet once she did feel a little as
if Cynthia were poaching on her manor. The invitation to the quiet
dinner had been sent to Osborne Hamley, and declined by him. But he
thought it right to call soon afterwards. It was the first time Molly
had seen any of the family since she left the Hall, just before Mrs.
Hamley's death; and there was so much that she wanted to ask. She
tried to wait patiently till Mrs. Gibson had exhausted the first gush
of her infinite nothings; and then Molly came in with her modest
questions. How was the Squire? Had he returned to his old habits? Had
his health suffered?--putting each inquiry with as light and delicate
a touch as if she had been dressing a wound. She hesitated a little,
a very little, before speaking of Roger; for just one moment the
thought flitted across her mind, that Osborne might feel the contrast
between his own and his brother's college career too painfully to
like to have it referred to; but then she remembered the generous
brotherly love that had always existed between the two, and had just
entered upon the subject, when Cynthia in obedience to her mother's
summons, came into the room, and took up her work. No one could have
been quieter--she hardly uttered a word; but Osborne seemed to fall
under her power at once. He no longer gave his undivided attention
to Molly. He cut short his answers to her questions; and by-and-by,
without Molly's rightly understanding how it was, he had turned
towards Cynthia, and was addressing himself to her. Molly saw the
look of content on Mrs. Gibson's face; perhaps it was her own
mortification at not having heard all she wished to know about Roger,
which gave her a keener insight than usual, but certain it is that
all at once she perceived that Mrs. Gibson would not dislike a
marriage between Osborne and Cynthia, and considered the present
occasion as an auspicious beginning. Remembering the secret which she
had been let into so unwillingly, Molly watched his behaviour, almost
as if she had been retained in the interest of the absent wife; but,
after all, thinking as much of the possibility of his attracting
Cynthia as of the unknown and mysterious Mrs. Osborne Hamley. His
manner was expressive of great interest and of strong prepossession
in favour of the beautiful girl to whom he was talking. He was in
deep mourning, which showed off his slight figure and delicate
refined face. But there was nothing of flirting, as far as Molly
understood the meaning of the word, in either looks or words.
Cynthia, too, was extremely quiet; she was always much quieter with
men than with women; it was part of the charm of her soft allurement
that she was so passive. They were talking of France. Mrs. Gibson
herself had passed two or three years of her girlhood there; and
Cynthia's late return from Boulogne made it a very natural subject
of conversation. But Molly was thrown out of it; and with her heart
still unsatisfied as to the details of Roger's success, she had to
stand up at last, and receive Osborne's good-by, scarcely longer or
more intimate than his farewell to Cynthia. As soon as he was gone,
Mrs. Gibson began in his praise.