"Well! then I refer you to her, for I must go now. I can't for shame
go on sitting here, and letting those good ladies have all the
trouble. But I shall come and call on Mrs. Gibson soon. Are you
walking home to-night?"
"Yes, I think so," replied Molly, eagerly foreseeing what was to
come.
"Then I shall walk home with you. I left my horse at the 'George,'
and that's half-way. I suppose old Betty will allow me to accompany
you and your sister? You used to describe her as something of a
dragon."
"Betty has left us," said Molly, sadly. "She's gone to live at a
place at Ashcombe."
He made a face of dismay, and then went off to his duties. The short
conversation had been very pleasant, and his manner had had just the
brotherly kindness of old times; but it was not quite the manner he
had to Cynthia; and Molly half thought she would have preferred the
latter. He was now hovering about Cynthia, who had declined the offer
of refreshments from Willie Orford. Roger was tempting her, and with
playful entreaties urging her to take some thing from him. Every word
they said could be heard by the whole room; yet every word was said,
on Roger's part at least, as if he could not have spoken it in that
peculiar manner to any one else. At length, and rather more because
she was weary of being entreated, than because it was his wish,
Cynthia took a macaroon, and Roger seemed as happy as though she
had crowned him with flowers. The whole affair was as trifling and
commonplace as could be in itself; hardly worth noticing; and yet
Molly did notice it, and felt uneasy; she could not tell why. As it
turned out, it was a rainy night, and Mrs. Gibson sent a fly for the
two girls instead of old Betty's substitute. Both Cynthia and Molly
thought of the possibility of their taking the two Orford girls back
to their grandmother's, and so saving them a wet walk; but Cynthia
got the start in speaking about it; and the thanks and the implied
praise for thoughtfulness were hers.
When they got home Mr. and Mrs. Gibson were sitting in the
drawing-room, quite ready to be amused by any details of the evening.
Cynthia began,--
"Oh! it wasn't very entertaining. One didn't expect that," and she
yawned wearily.
"Who were there?" asked Mr. Gibson. "Quite a young party--wasn't it?"
"They'd only asked Lizzie and Fanny Orford, and their brother; but
Mr. Roger Hamley had ridden over and called on Miss Brownings, and
they kept him to tea. No one else."