Wives and Daughters
nd the Miss Brownings were not to go until the last, or fourth, time of its coming. Her face had been soaped, scrubbed, and shone brilliantly clean; her frills, her frock, he
Brownings' new dresses; and yet not too forward, for fear of incommoding fat Mrs. Goodenough and her niece, who occupied the front seat of the carriage; so that altogether the fact of sitting down at all was rather doubtful, and to add to her discomfort, Molly felt herself to be very conspicuously placed in the centre of the carriage, a mark for all the observation of Hollingford. It was far too much of a gala day for the work of the little town to go forward with its usual regularity. Maid-servants gazed out of upper windows; shopkeepers' wives stood on the doorsteps;
icable charm to her. Near the house there were walls and fences; but they were covered with climbing roses, and rare honeysuckles and other creepers just bursting into bloom, There were flower-beds, too, scarlet, crimson, blue, orange; masses of blossom lying on the greensward. Molly held Miss Browning's hand very tight as they loitered about in company with several other ladies, and marshalled by a daughter of the Towers, who seemed half amused at the voluble admiration showered down upon every possible thing and place. Molly said nothing, as became her age and position, but every now and then she relieved her full heart by drawing a deep breath, almost like a sigh. Pre
understanding for you, love; but it's very fine
fountain, were the only sounds, and the tree-tops made an enclosing circle in the blue June sky; she went along without more thought as to her whereabouts than a butterfly has, as it skims from flower to flower, till at length she grew very weary, and wished to return to the house, but did not know how, and felt afraid of encountering all the strangers who would
king about her. They were perfect strangers to her, and with a vague conviction that she had done something w
d rather a severe expression on her face; her dress was as rich as any morning dress could be; her voice deep and unmodulated - what in a lower rank of life would have been called gruff; but that was not a word to apply to Lady Cuxhaven, the eldest daughter of the earl and counte
heat, I have no doubt - such a heavy straw bo
I came here with the Miss Brownings;' for her great fear
d Lady Cuxhaven to her co
all large young women that L
ng again at Molly, she said, 'Have you had anything to eat, child, si
rather piteously; for, indeed, before s
, and Clare shall bring you something to eat before you try to walk back; it must be a quarter of a mile at least.' So they went away, and Molly sate upright, waiting for the promised messenger. She did not k
le lunch herself; and now you must try and eat it, and you'll be quite right when you've
or the water; but she was too faint to hold it. Clare put it to her mouth, and she took a long draught and was refreshed. But she could not eat; she tried, but she could not; her
aid Molly, lifting he
You see, I don't know what to do with you here if you don't eat enough to enable you to walk home. And I've been out for these three hours trapesing about the grounds till I'm as tired as can be, and missed my lunch and all.' Then,
e chicken and jelly, and drank the glass of wine. She was so pretty and so graceful in her deep mourning, that even her hurry in eating
y finished your grapes; that's a good girl. Now, if you will come with me to the side entrance, I will take you up to my o
side entrance' was a flight of steps leading up from a private flower-garden into a private matted hall, or ante-room, out of which many doors opened, and in which were deposited
I think there can't be much amiss! You're a good old Clare, but you should have let one
ish up the ample luncheon; but no such idea seemed to come into her mind. She only said - 'Poor dear! she is not quite
he felt too poorly to worry herself long; the little white bed in the cool and pretty room had too many attractions for her aching head. The muslin curtains flapped softly from time to time in the scented air that came through the open windows. Clare
us Molly. And then she went away, and thought no more about it. The carriages came round at half-past four, hurried a little by Lady
f every one at once. Miss Browning had gone in the chariot (or 'chawyot,' as Lady Cumnor called it; - it rhymed to her daughter, Lady Hawyot - or Harriet, as the name was spelt in the Peerage), and Miss Phoebe had been speeded along with several other
to push back the hair from her hot forehead, and to remember where she was. She dropped down on her feet
being in the bed? Are you one of the Hollingford l
re promised to waken me in time. Papa will so wonde
step along the passages, approaching. She was singing some little Italian air in a low musical voice, coming to her bedroom to dress for
the door, and stood agha
course I must take the consequences of your over-sleeping yourself, and if I can't manage to get you back
always wants me to make tea for
t always find yourself among such hospitable people as they are here. Why now, if you don't cry and make a figure of yourself, I'll ask if you may come in to dessert with Master Smythe and the little ladies. You shall go into the nursery,
g on her dressing-gown; shaking her long soft auburn hair over her shoulders, and glancing about the roo
she has to spend her holidays at school; and yet you are looking as miserable as can be at the thought of stopping for just one night. I real
tears at the mention of that little girl of Mr
a'am; I thought she
I? Every one is surprised. And yet I have been a widow for seven months now: and not
' continued Molly, finding her
a very good family, and if three of his relations had died without children I should have been a baronet's wife. But Providence did not see fit to permit it; a
a little girl?
hen the housemaid comes, ask her to take you into the nursery, and to tell Lady Cuxhaven's nurse who you are. And then you'll have tea with the little ladies, and come in with them to dessert. There! I'm sorry you've overslept yourself, and are left here; but give me a kiss, and don't cry - you really are rather a pretty child,
having ascertained from Molly that she was 'the doctor's' child, she showed mo
to the wishes of the supreme power, and even very useful to Mrs. Dyson, by playing at bricks, and thus keeping a little one qu
te dimity. So she could only wash her face and hands, and submit to the nurse's brushing and perfuming her hair. She thought she would rather have stayed in the park all night long, and slept under the beautiful quiet cedar, than have to undergo the unknown ord
table, in the brilliantly lighted room. Each dainty little child ran up t
ick white frock? Not one of the
h her little girls, that they might get a good accent early. Poor little woman, she looks wild and strange!' And the speaker, who sate next to Lord Cumnor, made a little sign
French. I'm only M
dy, out loud; as if that wa
ught the words
ou the little girl who ha
ty, the Seven Sleepers, and any other famous sleeper that came into his head. He had no idea of the misery his jokes were to the sensitive girl, who already thought herself a miserable sinner, for having slept on, when she ought to have been awake. If Molly had been in the habit of putting two and two together, she might have found an excuse for herself, by remembering that Mrs. Kirkpatrick had promised faithfully to awaken her in time; but all the girl thought of was, how little they wanted
ld see her. But that was impossible, and she immediately became the subject o
elashes, and grey eyes, and colourless complexion which one meets with in some parts of France, and I knew
is morning, and she was overcome by the heat and fell asleep in Clare's room, and somehow managed to oversleep herself, and did not waken up till all the
ll over her. Lady Cuxhaven came up at this moment. Her tone was as deep, her manner of speak
-tree. So you're to stop here to-night? Clare, don't you think we could
egan petting her with pretty words and actions, while Lady Cuxhaven tu
Lord Cuxhaven was speaking to me at the time, telling me about his travels. Ah, here is a nice book - Lodge's Portraits; now I'll sit by you and t
her; would 'not trouble themselves' about her! These words of Mrs Kirkpatrick's seemed to quench the gratitude she was feeling t
whom she had accompanied into the dining-room, and to whose ranks she had appeared to belong - where were they? Gone to bed an hour before, at some quiet signal from their mother. Molly wondered if she might go, too - if she could ever find her way back to the haven of Mrs Kirkpatrick's bedroom. But she was at some distance from the door; a long way from Mrs. Kirkpatrick, to whom she felt herself to belong more than to any one else. Far, too, from Lady Cuxhaven, and the terrible Lady Cumnor, and her jocos
d brought your pony for you to ride home; so I shall
up quivering, sparkling, almost crying out loud. She was br
y dear, and thank her ladyship for her kindness to you, S
ndred miles away! All that blank space had
, in the most pitiful an
d Mrs. Kirkpatrick, in a sharper voice than before, aware that they were wanting h
a minute, then, lookin
nd coming wit
st speedy way of getting through the affair; so she took Molly's hand, and, on the way
me to accompany her to Lady Cumnor to wish good-night
hearing these words, and going a step or two in advance came up to Lady Cumnor, grand in purp
's kindness, I mean,' she said, correcting herself as she remembered Miss Browning's particular instructions as to the etiquette
t it, that she had never bidden good-by to Lady Cuxhaven, or Mrs. Kirkpatric
fiture. She threw her arms round her father's neck. 'Oh, papa, papa, papa! I am so glad you have come;
rest of her life? You make as much work about my coming for you, as if you thought I had. Make haste now, and get on y
s tired horse round by Miss Brownings', and found them in self-reproachful, helpless dismay. He would not wait to listen to their tearful apologies; he galloped home, had a fresh horse and Molly's pony saddled, and thou
his child to come down arrayed in her morning's finery with the gloss of newness worn off. Mr. Gibson was a favourite in all the Towers' household, as family doctors generally are; bringing hopes of relief at times of anxiety and distress; and Mrs.
appier at home, Mr. Gib
pony, and urged him on as hard as he w
's not safe to go at such a pace. Stop.' And
dow of the trees, and it's
life. I felt like a lighted candle when
'ye know what t
lad to be here! It is so pleasant riding here in the open free, fresh air, crushin
ure but what she might be afraid of riding in t
s your longest round, and then I could fasten us two to each end of it, and when I wanted you I could pull, and if you did
a little puzzling; but if I make them out rightly, I am to go about the co
ng me a clog, if only we
ur calling me a d
n to. But it is such a comfort to kn
y? I expected to find you so polite and ceremonious, that I read a few chap
shall never be
er be a lord; and I think the chances are a thousand to one aga
bonnet, or else get tired of long passages and gr
e your lady's-
ids are worse than ladies. I should n
y. 'But Mrs. Brown tells me that the thought of the dinners often keeps her from sleeping; there's that anxiet
etty says I wear her life out with the green stains
thinking how they had left you behind. I am afraid you'll be as bad
ame; and Mrs. Kirkpatrick brought me some lunch, and then put me to sleep on her bed - and I thought she would waken me in time, and she did not; and so they'd all gone aw
a dismal day of pl
ng in that garden. But I was never so unhappy in al
fficiently at liberty to listen to his grateful civilities but Mrs. Kirkpatrick, who, although she was to accompany Lady Cuxhaven, and pay a visit to her former pupil, made leisure enough to