CHAPTER XIV.
MOLLY FINDS HERSELF PATRONIZED.
The wedding went off much as such affairs do. Lord Cumnor and LadyHarriet drove over from the Towers, so the hour for the ceremonywas as late as possible. Lord Cumnor came in order to officiate asthe bride's father, and was in more open glee than either bride orbridegroom, or any one else. Lady Harriet came as a sort of amateurbridesmaid, to "share Molly's duties," as she called it. They wentfrom the Manor-house in two carriages to the church in the park, Mr.Preston and Mr. Gibson in one, and Molly, to her dismay, shut up withLord Cumnor and Lady Harriet in the other. Lady Harriet's gown ofwhite muslin had seen one or two garden-parties, and was not in thefreshest order; it had been rather a freak of the young lady's at thelast moment. She was very merry, and very much inclined to talk toMolly, by way of finding out what sort of a little personage Clarewas to have for her future daughter. She began:--
"We mustn't crush this pretty muslin dress of yours. Put it overpapa's knee; he doesn't mind it in the least."
"What, my dear, a white dress!--no, to be sure not. I rather likeit. Besides, going to a wedding, who minds anything? It would bedifferent if we were going to a funeral."
Molly conscientiously strove to find out the meaning of this speech;but before she had done so, Lady Harriet spoke again, going to thepoint, as she always piqued herself on doing:
"I daresay it's something of a trial to you, this second marriage ofyour father's; but you'll find Clare the most amiable of women. Shealways let me have my own way, and I've no doubt she'll let you haveyours."
"I mean to try and like her," said Molly, in a low voice, strivinghard to keep down the tears that would keep rising to her eyes thismorning. "I've seen very little of her yet."
"Why, it's the very best thing for you that could have happened, mydear," said Lord Cumnor. "You're growing up into a young lady--anda very pretty young lady, too, if you'll allow an old man to sayso--and who so proper as your father's wife to bring you out, andshow you off, and take you to balls, and that kind of thing? Ialways said this match that is going to come off to-day was the mostsuitable thing I ever knew; and it's even a better thing for you thanfor the people themselves."
"Poor child!" said Lady Harriet, who had caught a sight of Molly'stroubled face, "the thought of balls is too much for her just now;but you'll like having Cynthia Kirkpatrick for a companion, shan'tyou, dear?"
"Very much," said Molly, cheering up a little. "Do you know her?"
"Oh, I've seen her over and over again when she was a little girl,and once or twice since. She's the prettiest creature that you eversaw; and with eyes that mean mischief, if I'm not mistaken. ButClare kept her spirit under pretty well when she was staying withus,--afraid of her being troublesome, I fancy."
Before Molly could shape her next question, they were at the church;and she and Lady Harriet went into a pew near the door to wait forthe bride, in whose train they were to proceed to the altar. The earldrove on alone to fetch her from her own house, not a quarter of amile distant. It was pleasant to her to be led to the hymeneal altarby a belted earl, and pleasant to have his daughter as a volunteerbridesmaid. Mrs. Kirkpatrick in this flush of small gratifications,and on the brink of matrimony with a man whom she liked, and whowould be bound to support her without any exertion of her own, lookedbeamingly happy and handsome. A little cloud came over her face atthe sight of Mr. Preston,--the sweet perpetuity of her smile wasrather disturbed as he followed in Mr. Gibson's wake. But his facenever changed; he bowed to her gravely, and then seemed absorbed inthe service. Ten minutes, and all was over. The bride and bridegroomwere driving together to the Manor-house, Mr. Preston was walkingthither by a short cut, and Molly was again in the carriage with mylord, rubbing his hands and chuckling, and Lady Harriet, trying tobe kind and consolatory, when her silence would have been the bestcomfort.
Molly found out, to her dismay, that the plan was for her to returnwith Lord Cumnor and Lady Harriet when they went back to the Towersin the evening. In the meantime Lord Cumnor had business to do withMr. Preston, and after the happy couple had driven off on theirweek's holiday tour, she was to be left alone with the formidableLady Harriet. When they were by themselves after all the others hadbeen thus disposed of, Lady Harriet sate still over the drawing-roomfire, holding a screen between it and her face, but gazing intentlyat Molly for a minute or two. Molly was fully conscious of thisprolonged look, and was trying to get up her courage to return thestare, when Lady Harriet suddenly said,--
"I like you;--you are a little wild creature, and I want to tame you.Come here, and sit on this stool by me. What is your name? or what dothey call you?--as North-country people would express it."
"Molly Gibson. My real name is Mary."
"Molly is a nice, soft-sounding name. People in the last centuryweren't afraid of homely names; now we are all so smart and fine: nomore 'Lady Bettys' now. I almost wonder they haven't re-christenedall the worsted and knitting-cotton that bears her name. Fancy LadyConstantia's cotton, or Lady Anna-Maria's worsted."
"I didn't know there was a Lady Betty's cotton," said Molly.
"That proves you don't do fancy-work! You'll find Clare will setyou to it, though. She used to set me at piece after piece: knightskneeling to ladies; impossible flowers. But I must do her the justiceto add that when I got tired of them she finished them herself. Iwonder how you'll get on together?"
"So do I!" sighed out Molly, under her breath.
"I used to think I managed her, till one day an uncomfortablesuspicion arose that all the time she had been managing me. Stillit's easy work to let oneself be managed; at any rate till one wakensup to the consciousness of the process, and then it may becomeamusing, if one takes it in that light."
"I should hate to be managed," said Molly, indignantly. "I'll try anddo what she wishes for papa's sake, if she'll only tell me outright;but I should dislike to be trapped into anything."
"Now I," said Lady Harriet, "am too lazy to avoid traps; and I ratherlike to remark the cleverness with which they're set. But then,of course, I know that if I choose to exert myself, I can breakthrough the withes of green flax with which they try to bind me. Now,perhaps, you won't be able."
"I don't quite understand what you mean," said Molly.
"Oh, well--never mind; I daresay it's as well for you that youshouldn't. The moral of all I have been saying is, 'Be a good girl,and suffer yourself to be led, and you'll find your new stepmotherthe sweetest creature imaginable.' You'll get on capitally with her,I make no doubt. How you'll get on with her daughter is anotheraffair; but I daresay very well. Now we'll ring for tea; for Isuppose that heavy breakfast is to stand for our lunch."
Mr. Preston came into the room just at this time, and Molly was alittle surprised at Lady Harriet's cool manner of dismissing him,remembering as she did how Mr. Preston had implied his intimacy withher ladyship the evening before at dinner-time.
"I cannot bear that sort of person," said Lady Harriet, almost beforehe was out of hearing; "giving himself airs of gallantry towardsone to whom his simple respect is all his duty. I can talk to oneof my father's labourers with pleasure, while with a man like thatunderbred fop I am all over thorns and nettles. What is it the Irishcall that style of creature? They've some capital word for it, Iknow. What is it?"
"I don't know--I never heard it," said Molly, a little ashamed of herignorance.
"Oh! that shows you've never read Miss Edgeworth's tales;--now,have you? If you had, you'd have recollected that there was sucha word, even if you didn't remember what it was. If you've neverread those stories, they would be just the thing to beguile yoursolitude--vastly improving and moral, and yet quite sufficientlyinteresting. I'll lend them to you while you're all alone."
"I'm not alone. I'm not at home, but on a visit to Miss Brownings."
"Then I'll bring them to you. I know the Miss Brownings; they usedto come regularly on the school-day to the Towers. Pecksy and FlapsyI used to call them. I like the Miss Brownings; one get
s enough ofrespect from them at any rate; and I've always wanted to see thekind of _menage_ of such people. I'll bring you a whole pile of MissEdgeworth's stories, my dear."
Molly sate quite silent for a minute or two; then she mustered upcourage to speak out what was in her mind.
"Your ladyship" (the title was the firstfruits of the lesson, asMolly took it, on paying due respect)--"your ladyship keeps speakingof the sort of--the class of people to which I belong as if it was akind of strange animal you were talking about; yet you talk so openlyto me that--"
"Well, go on--I like to hear you."
Still silence.
"You think me in your heart a little impertinent--now, don't you?"said Lady Harriet, almost kindly.
Molly held her peace for two or three moments; then she lifted herbeautiful, honest eyes to Lady Harriet's face, and said,--
"Yes!--a little. But I think you a great many other things."
"We'll leave the 'other things' for the present. Don't you see,little one, I talk after my kind, just as you talk after your kind.It's only on the surface with both of us. Why, I daresay some of yourgood Hollingford ladies talk of the poor people in a manner whichthey would consider as impertinent in their turn, if they could hearit. But I ought to be more considerate when I remember how oftenmy blood has boiled at the modes of speech and behaviour of one ofmy aunts, mamma's sister, Lady-- No! I won't name names. Any onewho earns his livelihood by any exercise of head or hands, fromprofessional people and rich merchants down to labourers, she calls'persons.' She would never in her most slip-slop talk accord themeven the conventional title of 'gentlemen;' and the way in whichshe takes possession of human beings, 'my woman,' 'my people,'--but,after all, it is only a way of speaking. I ought not to have usedit to you; but somehow I separate you from all these Hollingfordpeople."
"But why?" persevered Molly. "I'm one of them."
"Yes, you are. But--now don't reprove me again for impertinence--mostof them are so unnatural in their exaggerated respect and admirationwhen they come up to the Towers, and put on so much pretence by wayof fine manners, that they only make themselves objects of ridicule.You at least are simple and truthful, and that's why I separate youin my own mind from them, and have talked unconsciously to you as Iwould--well! now here's another piece of impertinence--as I would tomy equal--in rank, I mean; for I don't set myself up in solid thingsas any better than my neighbours. Here's tea, however, come in timeto stop me from growing too humble."
It was a very pleasant little tea in the fading September twilight.
Just as it was ended, in came Mr. Preston again:--
"Lady Harriet, will you allow me the pleasure of showing you somealterations I have made in the flower-garden--in which I have triedto consult your taste--before it grows dark?"
UNWELCOME ATTENTIONS.]
"Thank you, Mr. Preston. I will ride over with papa some day, and wewill see if we approve of them."
Mr. Preston's brow flushed. But he affected not to perceive LadyHarriet's haughtiness, and, turning to Molly, he said,--
"Will not you come out, Miss Gibson, and see something of thegardens? You haven't been out at all, I think, excepting to church."
Molly did not like the idea of going out for a walk with only Mr.Preston yet she pined for a little fresh air, would have been gladto see the gardens, and look at the Manor-house from differentaspects; and, besides this, much as she recoiled from Mr. Preston,she felt sorry for him under the repulse he had just received.
While she was hesitating, and slowly tending towards consent, LadyHarriet spoke,--
"I cannot spare Miss Gibson. If she would like to see the place, Iwill bring her over some day myself."
When he had left the room, Lady Harriet said,--"I daresay it's my ownlazy selfishness has kept you indoors all day against your will. But,at any rate, you are not to go out walking with that man. I've aninstinctive aversion to him; not entirely instinctive either; it hassome foundation in fact; and I desire you don't allow him ever to getintimate with you. He's a very clever land-agent, and does his dutyby papa, and I don't choose to be taken up for libel; but rememberwhat I say!"
Then the carriage came round, and after numberless last words fromthe earl--who appeared to have put off every possible direction tothe moment when he stood, like an awkward Mercury, balancing himselfon the step of the carriage--they drove back to the Towers.
"Would you rather come in and dine with us--we should send you home,of course--or go home straight?" asked Lady Harriet of Molly. She andher father had both been sleeping till they drew up at the bottom ofthe flight of steps.
"Tell the truth, now and evermore. Truth is generally amusing, ifit's nothing else!"
"I would rather go back to Miss Brownings' at once, please," saidMolly, with a nightmare-like recollection of the last, the onlyevening she had spent at the Towers.
Lord Cumnor was standing on the steps, waiting to hand his daughterout of the carriage. Lady Harriet stopped to kiss Molly on theforehead, and to say,--
"I shall come some day soon, and bring you a load of Miss Edgeworth'stales, and make further acquaintance with Pecksy and Flapsy."
"No, don't, please," said Molly, taking hold of her, to detain her."You must not come--indeed you must not."
"Why not?"
"Because I would rather not--because I think that I ought not to haveany one coming to see me who laughs at the friends I am staying with,and calls them names." Molly's heart beat very fast, but she meantevery word that she said.
"My dear little woman!" said Lady Harriet, bending over her andspeaking quite gravely. "I'm very sorry to have called themnames--very, very sorry to have hurt you. If I promise you to berespectful to them in word and in deed--and in very thought, if Ican--you'll let me then, won't you?"
Molly hesitated. "I'd better go home at once; I shall only say wrongthings--and there's Lord Cumnor waiting all this time."
"Let him alone; he's very well amused hearing all the news of the dayfrom Brown. Then I shall come--under promise?"
So Molly drove off in solitary grandeur; and Miss Brownings' knockerwas loosened on its venerable hinges by the never-ending peal of LordCumnor's footman.
They were full of welcome, full of curiosity. All through the longday they had been missing their bright young visitor, and three orfour times in every hour they had been wondering and settling whateverybody was doing at that exact minute. What had become of Mollyduring all the afternoon, had been a great perplexity to them; andthey were very much oppressed with a sense of the great honour shehad received in being allowed to spend so many hours alone withLady Harriet. They were, indeed, more excited by this one fact thanby all the details of the wedding, most of which they had knownof beforehand, and talked over with much perseverance during theday. Molly began to feel as if there was some foundation for LadyHarriet's inclination to ridicule the worship paid by the good peopleof Hollingford to their liege lord, and to wonder with what tokensof reverence they would receive Lady Harriet if she came to pay herpromised visit. She had never thought of concealing the probabilityof this call until this evening; but now she felt as if it would bebetter not to speak of the chance, as she was not at all sure thatthe promise would be fulfilled.
Before Lady Harriet's call was paid, Molly received another visit.
Roger Hamley came riding over one day with a note from his mother,and a wasps'-nest as a present from himself. Molly heard his powerfulvoice come sounding up the little staircase, as he asked if MissGibson was at home from the servant-maid at the door; and she washalf amused and half annoyed as she thought how this call of hiswould give colour to Miss Browning's fancies. "I would rather neverbe married at all," thought she, "than marry an ugly man,--and deargood Mr. Roger is really ugly; I don't think one could even call himplain." Yet Miss Brownings, who did not look upon young men as iftheir natural costume was a helmet and a suit of armour, thoughtMr. Roger Hamley a very personable young fellow, as he came intothe room, his face flushed with exercise, his wh
ite teeth showingpleasantly in the courteous bow and smile he gave to all around. Heknew the Miss Brownings slightly, and talked pleasantly to them whileMolly read Mrs. Hamley's little missive of sympathy and good wishesrelating to the wedding; then he turned to her, and though MissBrownings listened with all their ears, they could not find outanything remarkable either in the words he said or the tone in whichthey were spoken.
"I've brought you the wasps'-nest I promised you, Miss Gibson. Therehas been no lack of such things this year; we've taken seventy-fouron my father's land alone; and one of the labourers, a poor fellowwho ekes out his wages by bee-keeping, has had a sad misfortune--thewasps have turned the bees out of his seven hives, taken possession,and eaten up the honey."
"What greedy little vermin!" said Miss Browning.
Molly saw Roger's eyes twinkle at the misapplication of the word; butthough he had a strong sense of humour, it never appeared to diminishhis respect for the people who amused him.
"I'm sure they deserve fire and brimstone more than the poor dearinnocent bees," said Miss Phoebe. "And then it seems so ungratefulof mankind, who are going to feast on the honey!" She sighed over thethought, as if it was too much for her.
While Molly finished reading her note, he explained its contents toMiss Browning.
"My brother and I are going with my father to an agricultural meetingat Canonbury on Thursday, and my mother desired me to say to you howvery much obliged she should be if you would spare her Miss Gibsonfor the day. She was very anxious to ask for the pleasure of yourcompany, too, but she really is so poorly that we persuaded her tobe content with Miss Gibson, as she wouldn't scruple leaving a younglady to amuse herself, which she would be unwilling to do if you andyour sister were there."
"I'm sure she's very kind; very. Nothing would have given us morepleasure," said Miss Browning, drawing herself up in gratifieddignity. "Oh, yes, we quite understand, Mr. Roger; and we fullyrecognize Mrs. Hamley's kind intention. We will take the will for thedeed, as the common people express it. I believe that there was anintermarriage between the Brownings and the Hamleys, a generation ortwo ago."
"I daresay there was," said Roger. "My mother is very delicate, andobliged to humour her health, which has made her keep aloof fromsociety."
"Then I may go?" said Molly, sparkling with the idea of seeing herdear Mrs. Hamley again, yet afraid of appearing too desirous ofleaving her kind old friends.
"To be sure, my dear. Write a pretty note, and tell Mrs. Hamley howmuch obliged to her we are for thinking of us."
"I'm afraid I can't wait for a note," said Roger. "I must take amessage instead, for I have to meet my father at one o'clock, andit's close upon it now."
When he was gone, Molly felt so light-hearted at the thoughts ofThursday that she could hardly attend to what the Miss Brownings weresaying. One was talking about the pretty muslin gown which Molly hadsent to the wash only that morning, and contriving how it could behad back again in time for her to wear; and the other, Miss Phoebe,totally inattentive to her sister's speaking for a wonder, was pipingout a separate strain of her own, and singing Roger Hamley's praises.
"Such a fine-looking young man, and so courteous and affable. Likethe young men of our youth now, is he not, sister? And yet they allsay Mr. Osborne is the handsomest. What do you think, child?"
"I've never seen Mr. Osborne," said Molly, blushing, and hatingherself for doing so. Why was it? She had never seen him as she said.It was only that her fancy had dwelt on him so much.
He was gone--all the gentlemen were gone before the carriage, whichcame to fetch Molly on Thursday, reached Hamley Hall. But Molly wasalmost glad, she was so much afraid of being disappointed. Besides,she had her dear Mrs. Hamley the more to herself; the quiet sit inthe morning-room, talking poetry and romance; the midday saunter intothe garden, brilliant with autumnal flowers and glittering dew-dropson the gossamer webs that stretched from scarlet to blue, and thenceto purple and yellow petals. As they were sitting at lunch, a strangeman's voice and step were heard in the hall; the door was opened,and a young man came in, who could be no other than Osborne. He wasbeautiful and languid-looking, almost as frail in appearance ashis mother, whom he strongly resembled. This seeming delicacy madehim appear older than he was. He was dressed to perfection, andyet with easy carelessness. He came up to his mother, and stood byher, holding her hand, while his eyes sought Molly, not boldly orimpertinently, but as if appraising her critically.
"Yes! I'm back again. Bullocks, I find, are not in my line. Ionly disappointed my father in not being able to appreciate theirmerits, and, I'm afraid, I didn't care to learn. And the smell wasinsufferable on such a hot day."
"My dear boy, don't make apologies to me; keep them for your father.I'm only too glad to have you back. Miss Gibson, this tall fellow ismy son Osborne, as I daresay you have guessed. Osborne--Miss Gibson.Now, what will you have?"
He looked round the table as he sate down. "Nothing here," said he."Isn't there some cold game-pie? I'll ring for that."
Molly was trying to reconcile the ideal with the real. The ideal wasagile, yet powerful, with Greek features and an eagle-eye, capableof enduring long fasting, and indifferent as to what he ate. Thereal was almost effeminate in movement, though not in figure; he hadthe Greek features, but his blue eyes had a cold, weary expressionin them. He was dainty in eating, and had anything but a Homericappetite. However, Molly's hero was not to eat more than Ivanhoe,when he was Friar Tuck's guest; and, after all, with a littlealteration, she began to think Mr. Osborne Hamley might turn out apoetical, if not a chivalrous hero. He was extremely attentive tohis mother, which pleased Molly, and, in return, Mrs. Hamley seemedcharmed with him to such a degree that Molly once or twice fanciedthat mother and son would have been happier in her absence. Yet,again, it struck on the shrewd, if simple girl, that Osborne wasmentally squinting at her in the conversation which was directed tohis mother. There were little turns and 'fioriture' of speech whichMolly could not help feeling were graceful antics of language notcommon in the simple daily intercourse between mother and son. Butit was flattering rather than otherwise to perceive that a very fineyoung man, who was a poet to boot, should think it worth while totalk on the tight rope for her benefit. And before the afternoon wasended, without there having been any direct conversation betweenOsborne and Molly, she had reinstated him on his throne in herimagination indeed, she had almost felt herself disloyal to her dearMrs. Hamley when, in the first hour after her introduction, she hadquestioned his claims on his mother's idolatry. His beauty came outmore and more, as he became animated in some discussion with her; andall his attitudes, if a little studied, were graceful in the extreme.Before Molly left, the squire and Roger returned from Canonbury.
"Osborne here!" said the Squire, red and panting. "Why the deucecouldn't you tell us you were coming home? I looked about for youeverywhere, just as we were going into the ordinary. I wanted tointroduce you to Grantley, and Fox, and Lord Forrest--men from theother side of the county, whom you ought to know; and Roger theremissed above half his dinner hunting about for you; and all the timeyou'd stole away, and were quietly sitting here with the women. Iwish you'd let me know the next time you make off. I've lost half mypleasure in looking at as fine a lot of cattle as I ever saw, withthinking you might be having one of your old attacks of faintness."
"I should have had one, I think, if I'd stayed longer in thatatmosphere. But I'm sorry if I've caused you anxiety."
"Well! well!" said the Squire, somewhat mollified. "And Roger,too,--there I've been sending him here and sending him there all theafternoon."
"I didn't mind it, sir. I was only sorry you were so uneasy. Ithought Osborne had gone home, for I knew it wasn't much in his way,"said Roger.
Molly intercepted a glance between the two brothers--a look of trueconfidence and love, which suddenly made her like them both under theaspect of relationship--new to her observation.
Roger came up to her, and sat down by her.
"Well, and how are
you getting on with Huber; don't you find him veryinteresting?"
"I'm afraid," said Molly, penitently, "I haven't read much. MissBrownings like me to talk; and, besides, there is so much to do athome before papa comes back; and Miss Browning doesn't like me to gowithout her. I know it sounds nothing, but it does take up a greatdeal of time."
"When is your father coming back?"
"Next Tuesday, I believe. He cannot stay long away."
"I shall ride over and pay my respects to Mrs. Gibson," said he. "Ishall come as soon as I may. Your father has been a very kind friendto me ever since I was a boy. And when I come, I shall expect mypupil to have been very diligent," he concluded, smiling his kind,pleasant smile at idle Molly.
Then the carriage came round, and she had the long solitary driveback to Miss Brownings'. It was dark out of doors when she got there;but Miss Phoebe was standing on the stairs, with a lighted candlein her hand, peering into the darkness to see Molly come in.
"Oh, Molly! I thought you'd never come back. Such a piece of news!Sister has gone to bed; she's had a headache--with the excitement,I think; but she says it's new bread. Come upstairs softly, mydear, and I'll tell you what it is! Who do you think has beenhere,--drinking tea with us, too, in the most condescending manner?"
"Lady Harriet?" said Molly, suddenly enlightened by the word"condescending."
"Yes. Why, how did you guess it? But, after all, her call, at anyrate in the first instance, was upon you. Oh, dear Molly! if you'renot in a hurry to go to bed, let me sit down quietly and tell you allabout it; for my heart jumps into my mouth still when I think of howI was caught. She--that is, her ladyship--left the carriage at 'TheGeorge,' and took to her feet to go shopping--just as you or I mayhave done many a time in our lives. And sister was taking her fortywinks; and I was sitting with my gown up above my knees and my feeton the fender, pulling out my grandmother's lace which I'd beenwashing. The worst has yet to be told. I'd taken off my cap, for Ithought it was getting dusk and no one would come, and there was I inmy black silk skull-cap, when Nancy put her head in, and whispered,'There's a lady downstairs--a real grand one, by her talk;' and inthere came my Lady Harriet, so sweet and pretty in her ways, it wassome time before I remembered I had never a cap on. Sister neverwakened; or never roused up, so to say. She says she thought it wasNancy bringing in the tea when she heard some one moving; for herladyship, as soon as she saw the state of the case, came and kneltdown on the rug by me, and begged my pardon so prettily for havingfollowed Nancy upstairs without waiting for permission and was sotaken by my old lace, and wanted to know how I washed it, and whereyou were, and when you'd be back, and when the happy couple would beback: till sister wakened--she's always a little bit put out, youknow, when she first wakens from her afternoon nap,--and, withoutturning her head to see who it was, she said, quite sharp,--'Buzz,buzz, buzz! When will you learn that whispering is more fidgetingthan talking out loud? I've not been able to sleep at all for thechatter you and Nancy have been keeping up all this time.' You knowthat was a little fancy of sister's, for she'd been snoring away asnaturally as could be. So I went to her, and leant over her, and saidin a low voice,--
"'Sister, it's her ladyship and me that has been conversing.'
"'Ladyship here, ladyship there! have you lost your wits, Phoebe,that you talk such nonsense--and in your skull-cap, too!'
"By this time she was sitting up--and, looking round her, she sawLady Harriet, in her velvets and silks, sitting on our rug, smiling,her bonnet off, and her pretty hair all bright with the blaze of thefire. My word! sister was up on her feet directly; and she droppedher curtsey, and made her excuses for sleeping, as fast as might be,while I went off to put on my best cap, for sister might well say Iwas out of my wits to go on chatting to an earl's daughter in an oldblack silk skull-cap. Black silk, too! when, if I'd only known shewas coming, I might have put on my new brown silk one, lying idle inmy top drawer. And when I came back, sister was ordering tea for herladyship,--our tea, I mean. So I took my turn at talk, and sisterslipped out to put on her Sunday silk. But I don't think we werequite so much at our ease with her ladyship as when I sat pullingout my lace in my skull-cap. And she was quite struck with our tea,and asked where we got it, for she had never tasted any like itbefore; and I told her we gave only 3_s._ 4_d._ a pound for it, atJohnson's--(sister says I ought to have told her the price of ourcompany-tea, which is 5_s._ a pound, only that was not what we weredrinking; for, as ill-luck would have it, we'd none of it in thehouse)--and she said she would send us some of hers, all the wayfrom Russia or Prussia, or some out-of-the-way place, and we were tocompare and see which we liked best; and if we liked hers best, shecould get it for us at 3_s._ a pound. And she left her love for you;and, though she was going away, you were not to forget her. Sisterthought such a message would set you up too much, and told me shewould not be chargeable for the giving it you. 'But,' I said, 'amessage is a message, and it's on Molly's own shoulders if she's setup by it. Let us show her an example of humility, sister, though wehave been sitting cheek-by-jowl in such company.' So sister humphed,and said she'd a headache, and went to bed. And now you may tell meyour news, my dear."
So Molly told her small events; which, interesting as they mighthave been at other times to the gossip-loving and sympathetic MissPhoebe, were rather pale in the stronger light reflected from thevisit of an earl's daughter.
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