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kept his lips tight closed; and only said, "That man, indeed!" quite below his breath.

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was. It would be a shame to be ill when
everything is in its full summer beauty."
"I have heard how deeply we-I am in-
debted to you-my father can hardly
praise you"

"Please don't," said Molly, the tears com-
ing into her eyes in spite of herself. He
seemed to understand her at once; he went
on as if speaking to Mrs. Gibson:
“In-
deed my little sister-in-law is never weary
of talking about Monsieur le Docteur, as
she calls your husband!"

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Molly, too, had been damped by an expression or two in her father's speech. "Mere visits of ceremony!" Was it so, indeed? A "mere visit of ceremony!" Whatever it was, the call was paid before many days were over. That he felt all the awkwardness of his position towards Mrs. Gibson that he was in reality suffering pain all the time was but too evident to Molly; but of course Mrs. Gibson saw noth- "I have not had the pleasure of making ing of this in her gratification at the proper Mrs. Osborne Hamley's acquaintance yet, respect paid to her by one whose name was said Mrs. Gibson, suddenly aware of a duty already in the newspapers that chronicled his which might have been expected from her, return, and about whom already Lord Cum-" and 1 must beg you to apologize to her for nor and the Towers family had been mak- my remissness. But Molly has been such a ing inquiry. care and anxiety to me for, you know, I look upon her quite as my own child that I really have not gone any where, excepting to the Towers perhaps I should say, which is just like another home to me. And then I understood that Mrs. Osborne Hamley was thinking of returning to France before long? Still it was very remiss."

The little trap thus set for news of what might be going on in the Hamley family was quite successful. Roger answered her thus:

She

Molly was sitting in her pretty white invalid's dress, half reading, half dreaming, for the June air was so clear and ambient, the garden so full of bloom, the trees so full of leaf, that reading by the open window was only a pretence at such a time; besides which Mrs. Gibson continually interrupted her with remarks about the pattern of her worsted-work. It was after lunch orthodox calling time, when Maria ushered in Mr. Roger Hamley. Molly started up; and then stood shyly and quietly in her place while a bronzed, bearded, grave man came into the room, in whom she at first had to seek for the merry boyish face she knew by heart only two years ago. But months in the climates in which Roger had been travelling age as much as years in more temperate districts. And constant thought and anxiety while in daily peril of life deepen the lines of character upon a face. Moreover, the circumstances that had of late affected him personally were not of a nature to make him either buoyant or cheerful. But his voice was the same; that was the first point of the old friend Molly caught, when he addressed her in a tone far softer" She has grown into delicate fragrant than he used in speaking conventional politenesses to her stepmother.

"I was so sorry to hear how ill you had been! You are looking but delicate!" letting his eyes rest upon her face with af fectionate examination. Molly felt herself colour all over with the consciousness of his regard. To do something to put an end to it, she looked up, and showed him her beautiful soft grey eyes, which he never remembered to have noticed before. She smiled at him as she blushed still deeper, and said,—

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"Oh! I am quite strong now to what I

"I am sure Mrs. Osborne Hamley will be very glad to see any friends of the family, as soon as she is a little stronger. I hope she will not go back to France at all. is an orphan, and I trust we shall induce her to remain with my father. But at present nothing is arranged." Then, as if glad to have got over his "visit of ceremony," he got up and took leave. When he was at the door he looked back, having, as he thought, a word more to say; but he quite forgot what it was, for he surprised Molly's intent gaze, and sudden confusion at discovery, and went away as soon as he could.

"Poor Osborne was right!" said he.

beauty just as he said she would: or is it the character which has formed her face? Now the next time I enter these doors it will be to learn my fate!"

Mr, Gibson had told his wife of Roger's desire to have a personal interview with Cynthia, rather with a view to her repeating what he said to her daughter. He did not see any exact necessity for this, it is true; but he thought that it might be advisable that she should know all the truth in which he was concerned, and he told his wife this. But she took the affair into her own management, and, although she appar

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ently agreed with Mr. Gibson, she never named the affair to Cynthia; all that she said to her was—

"Your old admirer, Roger Hamley, has come home in a great hurry in consequence of poor dear Osborne's unexpected decease. He must have been rather surprised to find the widow and her little boy established at the Hall. He came to call here the other day, and made himself really rather agreeable, although his manners are not improved by the society he has kept on his travels. Still I prophesy he will be considered as a fashionable "lion," and perhaps the very uncouthness which jars against my sense of refinement, may even become admired in a scientific traveller, who has been into more desert places, and eaten more extraordinary food, than any other Englishman of the day. I suppose he has given up all chance of inheriting the estate, for I hear he talks of returning to Africa, and becoming a regular wanderer. Your name was not mentioned, but I believe he inquired about you from Mr. Gibson."

"There!" said she to herself, as she folded up and directed this letter; "that can't disturb her, or make her uncomfortable. And it's all the truth too, or very near it. Of course he'll want to see her when she comes back; but by that time I do hope Mr. Henderson will have proposed again, and that that affair will be all settled,"

But Cynthia returned to Hollingford one Tuesday morning, and in answer to her mother's anxious inquiries on the subject, would only say that Mr. Henderson had not offered again. Why should he? She had refused him once, and he did not know the reason of her refusal, at least one of the reasons. She did not know if she should have taken him if there had been no such person as Roger Hamley in the world. No! Uncle and aunt Kirkpatrick had never heard anything about Roger's offer, - nor had her cousins. She had always declared her wish to keep it a secret, and she had not mentioned it to any one, whatever other people might have done." Underneath this light and careless vein there were other feelings; but Mrs. Gibson was not one to probe beneath the surface. She had set her heart on Mr. Henderson's marrying Cynthia very early in their acquaintance: and to know, firstly, that the same wish had entered into his head, and that Roger's attachment to Cynthia, with its consequences, had been the obstacle; and secondly, that Cynthia herself, with all the opportunities of propinquity that she had lately had, had failed to provoke a repetition of the offer,

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Why, don't you see we are doing all we can for you; dressing you well, and sending you to London; and when you might relieve us of the expenses of all this, you don't."

"No! Cynthia, I will speak," said Molly, all crimson with indignation, and pushing away Cynthia's restraining hand. "I am sure papa does not feel, and does not mind, any expense he incurs about his daughters. And I know quite well that he does not wish us to marry, unless" She faltered and stopped.

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"Unless what?" said Mrs. Gibson, halfmocking.

"Unless we love some one very dearly indeed," said Molly, in a low, firm tone.

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Well, after this tirade - really rather indelicate, I must say - I have done. I will neither help nor hinder any love-affairs of you two young ladies. In my days we were glad of the advice of our elders." And she left the room to put into fulfilment an idea which had just struck her to write a confidential letter to Mrs. Kilpatrick, giving her her version of Cynthia's "unfortunate entanglement" and "delicate sense of honour," and hints of her entire indifference to all the masculine portion of the world, Mr. Henderson being dexterously excluded from the category.

"Oh, dear!" said Molly, throwing herself back in a chair, with a sigh of relief, as Mrs. Gibson left the room;" "how cross I do get since I have been ill. But I could not bear her to speak as if papa grudged you anything."

"I am sure he does not, Molly. You need not defend him on my account. But I am sorry mamma still looks upon me as an encumbrance,' as the advertisements

“Oh, he has taken Cumnor Grange, three miles away, and he never comes in to the Hollingford tea-parties now. I saw him once in the street, but it's a question which of us tried the hardest to get out of the other's way."

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CHAPTER LVI.

OFF WITH THE OLD LOVE, AND ON
WITH THE NEW."

in The Times always call us unfortunate children. But I have been an encumbrance to her all my life. I am getting very much into despair about everything, Molly. I shall try my luck in Russia. I have heard of a situation as English governess at Mos- THE next morning saw Mrs. Gibson in a cow, in a family owning whole provinces of much more contented frame of mind. She land, and serfs by the hundred. I put off had written and posted her letter, and the writing my letter till I came home; I shall next thing was to keep Cynthia in what be as much out of the way there as if I was she called a reasonable state, or, in other married. Oh, dear! travelling all night is words, to try and cajole her into docility. not good for the spirits. How is Mr. Pres- But it was so much labor lost. Cynthia ton?" had already received a letter from Mr. Henderson before she came down to breakfast, a declaration of love, a proposal of marriage as clear as words could make it; together with an intimation that, unable to wait for the slow delays of the post, he was going to follow her down to Hollingford, and would arrive at the same time that she had done herself on the previous day. Cynthia said nothing about this letter to any one. She came late into the breakfastroom, after Mr. and Mrs. Gibson had finished the actual business of the meal; but her unpunctuality was quite accounted for by the fact that she had been travelling all the night before. Molly was not as yet strong enough to get up so early. Cynthia hardly. spoke, and did not touch her food. Mr. Gibson went about his daily business, and Cynthia and her mother were left alone.

"You've not said anything about Roger, yet."

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No; I did not know if you would care to hear. He is very much older-looking; quite a strong grown-up man. And papa says he is much graver. Ask me any questions, if you want to know, but I have only seen him once."

"I was in hopes he would have left the neighbourhood by this time. Mamma said he was going to travel again."

"I can't tell," said Molly. "I suppose you know," she continued, but hesitating a little before she spoke, "that he wishes to see you."

"No! I never heard. I wish he would have been satisfied with my letter. It was as decided as I could make it. If I say I won't see him, I wonder if his will or mine will be the strongest ?"

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His," said Molly. "But you must see him; you owe it to him. He will never be satisfied without it."

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My dear," said Mrs. Gibson, "you are not eating your breakfast as you should do. I am afraid our meals seem very plain and homely to you after those in Hyde Park Street?"

"No," said Cynthia; "I am not hungry, that's all."

"If we were as rich as your uncle, I should feel it to be both a duty and a pleas"Suppose he talks me round into resum-ure to keep an elegant table; but limited ing the engagement? I should only break it off again."

"Surely you can't be talked round' if your mind is made up. But perhaps it is not really, Cynthia?" asked she, with a little wistful anxiety betraying itself in her face.

"It is quite made up. I am going to teach little Russian girls; and am never going to marry nobody."

You are not serious, Cynthia. And yet it is a very serious thing."

But Cynthia went into one of her wild moods, and no more reason or sensible meaning was to be got out of her at the

time.

means are a sad clog to one's wishes. I don't suppose that, work as he will, Mr. Gibson can earn more than he does at present; while the capabilities of the law are boundless. Lord Chancellor ! Titles as well as fortune!"

Cynthia was almost too much absorbed in her own reflections to reply, but she did say,

"Hundreds of briefless barristers. Take the other side, mamma.”

"Well; but I have noticed that many of these have private fortunes."

"Perhaps. Mamma, I expect Mr. Henderson will come and call this morning."

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Oh, my precious child! But how do

1

you know? My darling Cynthia, am I to congratulate you?'

"No! I suppose I must tell you. I have had a letter this morning from him, and he is coming down by the Umpire to-day." "But he has offered? He surely must mean to offer, at any rate?"

Cynthia played with her teaspoon before she replied; then she looked up, like one startled from a dream, and caught the echo of her mother's question.

"Offered! yes, I suppose he has." "And you accept him? Say yes, Cynthia, and make me happy!"

"I shan't say yes to make any one happy except myself, and the Russian scheme has great charms for me." She said this to plague her mother, and lessen Mrs. Gibson's exuberance of joy, it must be confessed; for her mind was pretty well made up. But it did not affect Mrs. Gibson, who affixed even less truth to it than there really was. The idea of a residence in a new, strange country, among new, strange people, was not without allurement to Cynthia.

"You always look nice, dear; but don't you think you had better put on that pretty Lilac silk?"

"I shall not vary a thread or a shred from what I have got on now."

"You dear wilful creature! you know you always look lovely in whatever you put on." So, kissing her daughter, Mrs. Gibson left the room, intent on the lunch which should impress Mr. Henderson at once with an idea of family refinement.

Cynthia went upstairs to Molly; she was inclined to tell her about Mr. Henderson, but she found it impossible to introduce the subject naturally, so she left it to time to reveal the future as gradually as it might. Molly was tired with a bad night; and her father, in his flying visit to his darling before going out, had advised her to stay upstairs for the greater part of the morning, and to keep quiet in her own room till after her early dinner, so Time had not a fair chance of telling her what he had in store in his budget. Mrs. Gibson sent an apology to Molly for not paying her her usual morning visit, and told Cynthia to give Mr. Henderson's probable coming as a reason for her occupation downstairs. But Cynthia did no such thing. She kissed Molly, and sate silently by her, holding her hand; till at length she jumped up, and said, "You shall be left alone now, little one. I want you to be very well and very bright this afternoon so rest now." And Cynthia left her, and went to her own room, locked the door, and began to think.

Some one was thinking about her at the same time, and it was not Mr. Henderson. Roger had heard from Mr. Gibson that Cynthia had come home, and he was resolving to go to her at once, and have one strong, manly attempt to overcome the obstacles, whatever they might be — and of their nature he was not fully aware that she had conjured up against the continuance of their relation to each other. He left his father- he left them all-and went off into the woods, to be alone until the time came when he might mount his horse and ride over to put his fate to the touch. He was as careful as ever not to interfere with the morning hours that were tabooed to him of old; but waiting was very hard work when he knew that she was so near, and the time so near at hand.

Yet he rode slowly, compelling himself to quietness and patience when he was once really on the way to her.

"Mrs. Gibson at home? Miss Kirkpatrick?" he asked of the servant, Maria, who opened the door. She was confused, but he did not notice it.

"I think so; I am not sure! Will you walk up into the drawing-room, sir? Miss Gibson is there, I know."

So he went upstairs, all his nerves on one strain for the coming interview with Cynthia. It was either a relief or a disappointment, he was not sure which, to find only Molly in the room. Molly, half lying on the couch in the bow-window which commanded the garden; draped in soft white drapery, very white herself, and a laced halfhandkerchief tied over her head to save her from any ill effects of the air that blew in through the He was so window. open ready to speak to Cynthia that he hardly knew what to say to any one else.

"I am afraid you are not so well," he said to Molly, who sat up to receive him, and who suddenly began to tremble with emotion.

"I am a little tired, that's all," said she; and then she was quite silent, hoping that he might go, and yet somehow wishing him to stay. But he took a chair and placed it near her, opposite to the window. He thought that surely Maria would tell Miss Kirkpatrick that she was wanted, and that at any moment he might hear her light quick footstep on the stairs. He thought he ought to talk, but he could not think of anything to say. The pink flush came out on Molly's cheeks; once or twice she was on the point of speaking, but again she thought better of it; and the pauses between their faint disjointed remarks came longer and

"Was he very terrible?" asked Cynthia, as she sate with Molly in the stillness of Mrs. Gibson's dressing-room.

longer. Suddenly, in one of these pauses, | Maria, and the unlucky man never believed the merry murmur of distant happy voices but that it was Miss Gibson's sudden indisin the garden came nearer and nearer; position in the first instance that had deMolly looked more and more uneasy and prived him of his charmer's company. He flushed, and in spite of herself kept watch- comforted himself for the long solitary afing Roger's face. He could see over her ternoon by writing to tell all his friends of into the garden. A sudden deep colour his happiness, and amongst them uncle and overspread him, as if his heart had sent its aunt Kirkpatrick, who received his letter blood out coursing at full gallop. Cynthia by the same post as that discreet epistle of and Mr. Henderson had come in sight; he Mrs. Gibson's, which she had carefully areagerly talking to her as he bent forward ranged to reveal as much as she wished, to look into her face; she, her looks half and no more. averted in pretty shyness, was evidently coquetting about some flowers, which she either would not give, or would not take. Just then, for the lovers had emerged from the shrubbery into comparatively public life, Maria was seen approaching; apparently she had feminine tact enough to induce Cynthia to leave her present admirer, and go a few steps to meet her to receive the whispered message that Mr. Roger Hamley was there, and wished to speak to her. Roger could see her startled gesture, she turned back to say something to Mr. Henderson before coming towards the house. Now Roger spoke to Molly-spoke hurriedly, spoke hoarsely.

"Molly, tell me! It is too late for me to speak to Cynthia? I came on purpose. Who is that man?

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"Mr. Henderson. He only came to-day - but now he is her accepted lover. Oh, Roger, forgive me the pain!"

Tell her I have been, and am gone. Send out word to her. Don't let her be interrupted."

And Roger ran downstairs at full speed, and Molly heard the passionate clang of the outer door. He had hardly left the house before Cynthia entered the room, pale and resolute.

"Where is he?" she said, looking around, as if he might yet be hidden.

"Gone!" said Molly, very faint. "Gone. Oh, what a relief! It seems to be my fate never to be off with the old lover before I am on with the new, and yet I did write as decidedly as I could. Why, Molly, what's the matter?" for now Molly had fainted away utterly. Cynthia flew to the bell, summoned Maria, water, salts, wine, anything; and as soon as Molly, gasping and miserable, became conscious again, she wrote a little pencil-note to Mr. Henderson, bidding him return to the George, whence he had come in the morning, and saying that if he obeyed her at once, he might be allowed to call again in the evening, otherwise she would not see him till the next day. This she sent down by

THIRD SERIES. LIVING AGE. VOL. XXXII.

"Oh, Cynthia, it was such pain to see him, he suffered so!"

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"I don't like people of deep feelings," said Cynthia, pouting. They don't suit me. Why could not he let me go without this fuss. I'm not worth his caring for!"

"You have the happy gift of making people love you. Remember Mr. Preston, - he too would not give up hope."

"Now I won't have you classing Roger Hamley and Mr. Preston together in the same sentence. One was as much too bad for me as the other is too good. Now I hope that man in the garden is the juste milieu, -I'm that myself, for I don't think I'm vicious, and I know I'm not virtuous."

"Do you really like him enough to marry him?" asked Molly earnestly. "Do think, Cynthia. It won't do to go on throwing your lovers off; you give pain that I am sure you do not mean to do, that you cannot understand."

"Perhaps I can't. I'm not offended. I never set up for what I am not, and I know I'm not constant. I have told Mr. Henderson so"- She stopped, blushing and smiling at the recollection.

You have! and what did he say?" "That he liked me just as I was; so you see he's fairly warned. Only he is a little afraid, I suppose, for he wants me to be married very soon, almost directly in fact. But I don't know if I shall give way, -— you hardly saw him, Molly, but he's coming again to-night, and mind, I'll never forgive you if you don't think him very charming. I believe I cared for him when he offered all those months ago, but I tried to think I didn't; only sometimes I really was so unhappy, I thought I must put an iron-band round my heart to keep it from breaking, like the Faithful John of the German story,

do you remember, Molly?-how when his master came to his crown and his fortune, and his lady-love, after innumerable trials and disgraces, and was driving away

1443.

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