CHAPTER LVI.
"OFF WITH THE OLD LOVE, AND ON WITH THE NEW."
The next morning saw Mrs. Gibson in a much more contented frame ofmind. She had written and posted her letter, and the next thing wasto keep Cynthia in what she called a reasonable state, or, in otherwords, to try and cajole her into docility. But it was so much labourlost. Cynthia had already received a letter from Mr. Henderson beforeshe came down to breakfast,--a declaration of love, a proposal ofmarriage as clear as words could make it; together with an intimationthat, unable to wait for the slow delays of the post, he was goingto follow her down to Hollingford, and would arrive at the same timethat she had done herself on the previous day. Cynthia said nothingabout this letter to any one. She came late into the breakfast-room,after Mr. and Mrs. Gibson had finished the actual business of themeal; but her unpunctuality was quite accounted for by the fact thatshe had been travelling all the night before. Molly was not as yetstrong enough to get up so early. Cynthia hardly spoke, and did nottouch her food. Mr. Gibson went about his daily business, and Cynthiaand her mother were left alone.
"My dear," said Mrs. Gibson, "you are not eating your breakfast asyou should do. I am afraid our meals seem very plain and homely toyou after those in Hyde Park Street?"
"No," said Cynthia; "I'm not hungry, that's all."
"If we were as rich as your uncle, I should feel it to be both a dutyand a pleasure to keep an elegant table; but limited means are asad 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 capabilitiesof the law are boundless. Lord Chancellor! Titles as well asfortune!"
Cynthia was almost too much absorbed in her own reflections to reply,but she did say,--"Hundreds of briefless barristers. Take the otherside, mamma."
"Well; but I have noticed that many of these have private fortunes."
"Perhaps. Mamma, I expect Mr. Henderson will come and call thismorning."
"Oh, my precious child! But how do you know? My darling Cynthia, am Ito congratulate you?"
"No! I suppose I must tell you. I have had a letter this morning fromhim, and he's 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 lookedup, like one startled from a dream, and caught the echo of hermother'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 theRussian scheme has great charms for me." She said this to plagueher mother, and lessen Mrs. Gibson's exuberance of joy, it must beconfessed; for her mind was pretty well made up. But it did notaffect Mrs. Gibson, who affixed even less truth to it than therereally was. The idea of a residence in a new, strange country, amongnew, strange people, was not without allurement to Cynthia.
"You always look nice, dear; but don't you think you had better puton 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 inwhatever you put on." So, kissing her daughter, Mrs. Gibson left theroom, intent on the lunch which should impress Mr. Henderson at oncewith an idea of family refinement.
Cynthia went upstairs to Molly; she was inclined to tell her aboutMr. Henderson, but she found it impossible to introduce the subjectnaturally, so she left it to time to reveal the future as graduallyas it might. Molly was tired with a bad night; and her father, inhis flying visit to his darling before going out, had advised her tostay upstairs for the greater part of the morning, and to keep quietin her own room till after her early dinner, so Time had not a fairchance of telling her what he had in store in his budget. Mrs. Gibsonsent an apology to Molly for not paying her her usual morning visit,and told Cynthia to give Mr. Henderson's probable coming as a reasonfor her occupation downstairs. But Cynthia did no such thing. Shekissed Molly, and sate silently by her, holding her hand; till atlength she jumped up, and said, "You shall be left alone now, littleone. I want you to be very well and very bright this afternoon: sorest now." And Cynthia left her, and went to her own room, locked thedoor, 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 comehome, and he was resolving to go to her at once, and have one strong,manly attempt to overcome the obstacles whatever they might be--andof their nature he was not fully aware--that she had conjured upagainst the continuance of their relation to each other. He left hisfather--he left them all--and went off into the woods, to be aloneuntil the time came when he might mount his horse and ride over toput his fate to the touch. He was as careful as ever not to interferewith the morning hours that were tabooed to him of old; but waitingwas very hard work when he knew that she was so near, and the time sonear at hand.
Yet he rode slowly, compelling himself to quietness and patience whenhe 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 noticeit.
"I think so--I'm 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 the strain for the cominginterview with Cynthia. It was either a relief or a disappointment,he was not sure which, to find only Molly in the room:--Molly, halflying on the couch in the bow-window which commanded the garden;draped in soft white drapery, very white herself, and a lacedhalf-handkerchief tied over her head to save her from any ill effectsof the air that blew in through the open window. He was so ready tospeak 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 toreceive him, and who suddenly began to tremble with emotion.
"I'm a little tired, that's all," said she; and then she was quitesilent, 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 waswanted, and that at any moment he might hear her light quick footstepon the stairs. He felt he ought to talk, but he could not think ofanything to say. The pink flush came out on Molly's cheeks; once ortwice she was on the point of speaking, but again she thought betterof it; and the pauses between their faint disjointed remarks becamelonger and longer. Suddenly, in one of these pauses, the merry murmurof distant happy voices in the garden came nearer and nearer; Mollylooked more and more uneasy and flushed, and in spite of herselfkept watching Roger's face. He could see over her into the garden. Asudden deep colour overspread him, as if his heart had sent its bloodout coursing at full gallop. Cynthia and Mr. Henderson had come insight; he eagerly talking to her as he bent forward to look into herface; she, her looks half averted in pretty shyness, was evidentlycoquetting about some flowers, which she either would not give,or would not take. Just then, for the lovers had emerged from theshrubbery into comparatively public life, Maria was seen approaching;apparently she had feminine tact enough to induce Cynthia to leaveher present admirer, and to go a few steps to meet her to receivethe whispered message that Mr. Roger Hamley was there, and wished tospeak to her. Roger could see her startled gesture; she turned backto say something to Mr. Henderson before coming towards the house.Now Roger spoke to Molly--spoke hurriedly, spoke hoarsely.
CYNTHIA'S LAST LOVER.]
"Molly, tell me! Is it too late for me to speak to Cynthia? I came onpurpose. Who is that man?"
"Mr. Henderson. He only came to-day--but now he is her acceptedlover. Oh, Roger, forgive me the pain!"
"Tell her I have been, and am gone. Send out word to her. Don't lether be interrupted."
And Roger ran downstairs at full speed, and Molly heard thepassionate clang of the outer door. He had hardly left the housebefore Cynthia entered the room, pale and resolute.
/> "Where is he?" she said, looking around, as if he might yet behidden.
"Gone!" said Molly, very faint.
"Gone. Oh, what a relief! It seems to be my fate never to be off withthe old lover before I am on with the new, and yet I did write asdecidedly as I could. Why, Molly, what's the matter?" for now Mollyhad fainted away utterly. Cynthia flew to the bell, summoned Maria,water, salts, wine, anything; and as soon as Molly, gasping andmiserable, became conscious again, she wrote a little pencil-note toMr. Henderson, bidding him return to the "George," whence he had comein the morning, and saying that if he obeyed her at once, he might beallowed to call again in the evening, otherwise she would not see himtill the next day. This she sent down by Maria, and the unlucky mannever believed but that it was Miss Gibson's sudden indisposition inthe first instance that had deprived him of his charmer's company.He comforted himself for the long solitary afternoon by writing totell all his friends of his happiness, and amongst them uncle andaunt Kirkpatrick, who received his letter by the same post as thatdiscreet epistle of Mrs. Gibson's, which she had carefully arrangedto reveal as much as she wished, and no more.
"Was he very terrible?" asked Cynthia, as she sate with Molly in thestillness of Mrs. Gibson's dressing-room.
"Oh, Cynthia, it was such pain to see him, he suffered so!"
"I don't like people of deep feelings," said Cynthia, pouting. "Theydon't suit me. Why couldn't he let me go without this fuss? I'm notworth his caring for!"
"You have the happy gift of making people love you. Remember Mr.Preston,--he too wouldn't give up hope."
"Now I won't have you classing Roger Hamley and Mr. Preston togetherin the same sentence. One was as much too bad for me as the otheris too good. Now I hope that man in the garden is the _justemilieu_,--I'm that myself, for I don't think I'm vicious, and I knowI'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'm sure you do not mean to do,--that you cannotunderstand."
"Perhaps I can't. I'm not offended. I never set up for what I amnot, and I know I'm not constant. I've told Mr. Henderson so--" Shestopped, 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. Onlyhe's a little afraid, I suppose,--for he wants me to be married verysoon, almost directly, in fact. But I don't know if I shall giveway,--you hardly saw him, Molly,--but he's coming again to-night, andmind, 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, butI 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 frombreaking, like the Faithful John of the German story,--do youremember, Molly?--how when his master came to his crown and hisfortune and his lady-love, after innumerable trials and disgraces,and was driving away from the church where he'd been married in acoach and six, with Faithful John behind, the happy couple heardthree great cracks in succession, and on inquiring, they were theiron-bands round his heart, that Faithful John had worn all duringthe time of his master's tribulation, to keep it from breaking."
In the evening Mr. Henderson came. Molly had been very curious to seehim; and when she saw him she was not sure whether she liked him ornot. He was handsome, without being conceited; gentlemanly, withoutbeing foolishly fine. He talked easily, and never said a silly thing.He was perfectly well-appointed, yet never seemed to have given athought to his dress. He was good-tempered and kind; not without someof the cheerful flippancy of repartee which belonged to his age andprofession, and which his age and profession are apt to take forwit. But he wanted something in Molly's eyes--at any rate, in thisfirst interview, and in her heart of hearts she thought him rathercommonplace. But of course she said nothing of this to Cynthia, whowas evidently as happy as she could be. Mrs. Gibson, too, was inthe seventh heaven of ecstasy, and spoke but little; but what shedid say, expressed the highest sentiments in the finest language.Mr. Gibson was not with them for long, but while he was there hewas evidently studying the unconscious Mr. Henderson with his darkpenetrating eyes. Mr. Henderson behaved exactly as he ought to havedone to everybody: respectful to Mr. Gibson, deferential to Mrs.Gibson, friendly to Molly, devoted to Cynthia.
The next time Mr. Gibson found Molly alone, he began,--"Well! and howdo you like the new relation that is to be?"
"It's difficult to say. I think he's very nice in all his bits,but--rather dull on the whole."
"I think him perfection," said Mr. Gibson, to Molly's surprise;but in an instant afterwards she saw that he had been speakingironically. He went on. "I don't wonder she preferred him to RogerHamley. Such scents! such gloves! And then his hair and his cravat!"
"Now, papa, you're not fair. He is a great deal more than that. Onecould see that he had very good feeling; and he is very handsome, andvery much attached to her."
"So was Roger. However, I must confess I shall be only too glad tohave her married. She's a girl who'll always have some love-affair onhand, and will always be apt to slip through a man's fingers if hedoesn't look sharp; as I was saying to Roger--"
"You have seen him, then, since he was here?"
"Met him in the street."
"How was he?"
"I don't suppose he'd been going through the pleasantest thing inthe world; but he'll get over it before long. He spoke with senseand resignation, and didn't say much about it; but one could seethat he was feeling it pretty sharply. He's had three months tothink it over, remember. The Squire, I should guess, is showing moreindignation. He is boiling over, that any one should reject his son!The enormity of the sin never seems to have been apparent to himtill now, when he sees how Roger is affected by it. Indeed, with theexception of myself, I don't know one reasonable father; eh, Molly?"
Whatever else Mr. Henderson might be, he was an impatient lover; hewanted to marry Cynthia directly--next week--the week after; at anyrate before the long vacation, so that they could go abroad at once.Trousseaux, and preliminary ceremonies, he gave to the winds. Mr.Gibson, generous as usual, called Cynthia aside a morning or twoafter her engagement, and put a hundred-pound note into her hands.
"There! that's to pay your expenses to Russia and back. I hope you'llfind your pupils obedient."
To his surprise, and rather to his discomfiture, Cynthia threw herarms round his neck and kissed him.
"You are the kindest person I know," said she; "and I don't know howto thank you in words."
"If you tumble my shirt-collars again in that way, I'll charge youfor the washing. Just now, too, when I'm trying so hard to be trimand elegant, like your Mr. Henderson."
"But you do like him, don't you?" said Cynthia, pleadingly. "He doesso like you."
"Of course. We're all angels just now, and you're an arch-angel. Ihope he'll wear as well as Roger."
Cynthia looked grave. "That was a very silly affair," she said. "Wewere two as unsuitable people--"
"It has ended, and that's enough. Besides, I've no more time towaste; and there's your smart young man coming here in all haste."
Mr. and Mrs. Kirkpatrick sent all manner of congratulations; andMrs. Gibson, in a private letter, assured Mrs. Kirkpatrick thather ill-timed confidence about Roger should be considered as quiteprivate. For as soon as Mr. Henderson had made his appearance inHollingford, she had written a second letter, entreating them not toallude to anything she might have said in her first; which she saidwas written in such excitement on discovering the real state of herdaughter's affections, that she had hardly known what she had said,and had exaggerated some things, and misunderstood others: allthat she did know now was, that Mr. Henderson had just proposed toCynthia, and was accepted, and that they were as happy as the daywas long, and ("excuse the vanity of a mother,") made a most lovelycouple. So Mr. and Mrs. Kirkpatrick wrote back an equally agreeableletter, praising Mr. Henderson, admiring Cynthia, and generallycongr
atulatory; insisting into the bargain that the marriage shouldtake place from their house in Hyde Park Street, and that Mr. andMrs. Gibson and Molly should all come up and pay them a visit. Therewas a little postscript at the end. "Surely you do not mean thefamous traveller, Hamley, about whose discoveries all our scientificmen are so much excited. You speak of him as a young Hamley, who wentto Africa. Answer this question, pray, for Helen is most anxious toknow." This P.S. being in Helen's handwriting. In her exultationat the general success of everything, and desire for sympathy, Mrs.Gibson read parts of this letter to Molly; the postscript among therest. It made a deeper impression on Molly than even the proposedkindness of the visit to London.
There were some family consultations; but the end of them all wasthat the Kirkpatrick invitation was accepted. There were many smallreasons for this, which were openly acknowledged; but there wasone general and unspoken wish to have the ceremony performed outof the immediate neighbourhood of the two men whom Cynthia hadpreviously--rejected; that was the word now to be applied to hertreatment of them. So Molly was ordered and enjoined and entreatedto become strong as soon as possible, in order that her health mightnot prevent her attending the marriage; Mr. Gibson himself, though hethought it his duty to damp the exultant anticipations of his wifeand her daughter, being not at all averse to the prospect of goingto London, and seeing half-a-dozen old friends, and many scientificexhibitions, independently of the very fair amount of liking which hehad for his host, Mr. Kirkpatrick himself.
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