Wives and Daughters

hrough the household before the one o’clock dinner-time came; and Mr.

d deal of sad ostentation; all of which was lost upon Molly, who was too full of her own personal concerns to have any thought or observation to spar

ere sitting together in the drawing-room, waiting for the soun

ay I shall dine at their lunch; so you won’t have to wait

rd the approa

t his hand, ‘I do so wish I was no

sentiment. Have you got your ke

s dislike of sentiment, as long as the carriage could be seen. Then he turned into the surgery, and found Mr. Coxe had had his watching too, and had, indeed, remained at the window gazing, moonstruck, at the empty road, up which the young lady had disappeared. Mr. Gibson start

sk the coachman to stop till she had gathered a nosegay. She began to dread the end of her little journey of seven miles; the only drawback to which was, that her silk was not a true clan-tartan, and a little uncertainty as to Miss Rose’s punctuality, At length they came to a village; straggling cottages lined the road, an old church stood

s — to the old red-brick hall; not three hundred yards from the high-road. There had been no footman sent with the carriage, but a respectable servant st

nd in hers after she had finished speaking, looking into her face, as if studying it,

length. ‘I like your face, and I am always guide

is process of ‘swearing eternal friendship,’ and Moll

t the heat oppresses me, and I did not feel up t

Molly, with s

u put close to me; I thought you would like it bette

s private sitting-room; on the other side of which was her own bedroom. She showed Molly this easy means of communication, and then, telling he

nds, which enhanced the exquisite sense of stillness, and puzzling out objects obscured by distance or shadow, Molly forgot herself, and was suddenly startled into a sense of the present by a sound of voices in the next room — some servant or other speaking to Mrs. Hamley. Molly hurried to unpack her box, and arrange her few clothes in the pretty old-fashioned chest of drawers, which was to serve her as dressing-table as well. All the furniture in the room was as old-fashioned and as well-preserved as it could be. The chintz curtains were Indian calico of the last century — the colours almost washed out, but the stuff itself exquisitely clean. There was a little strip of bedside carpeting, but the wooden flooring, thus

leasanter than down below; and then I shall not

it very much,’

ve alone a great deal. You see, both my boys are at Cambridge, and the squire is out of doors

said Molly. ‘I’m afraid I don’t like

Molly. ‘I was sure you did, from your face. Have you read t

gn appearance of it gave an aspect of comfort and picturesqueness to the whole apartment. On the walls there hung some crayon sketches — portraits. She thought she could make out that one of them was a likeness of Mrs. Hamley, in her beautiful y

y some day; under seal of secrecy, remember; but I r

ung ladies of that day, as saying that poetry is nearly as good as

ley? Does your s

to get a fellowship at Trinity. He says he is sure to be high up among the wranglers, and that he expects

s sitting down, reading intently. The younger was standing by him, and evidently trying to call the attention of the reader off to some object out of doors — out of

so long ago now, that I may speak of their likeness

lly meant. ‘Tell me just what you think of them, my dear; it wil

ld not do it; and it would be impertinent, if I could. I ca

e what you th

uite make out his face yet, because his head is down, and I can’

w; but he was a beautiful boy. Roger

d solemn-looking; but all the rest of his face is rather merry than otherwise. It looks

, to speak artistically. Roger is not much of a reader; at least, he doesn’t care for poetry, and books of romance, or sentiment. He is so fond of natural history; and that takes him, like the squire, a great deal out of doo

explained to her by their mother; and in questions and answers about the various drawings hun

her. ‘I am afraid they expect me to be very smart,’ she kept thinking to herself. ‘If th

l; a complexion browner than cream-coloured, although in a year or two it might have that tint; plentiful curly black hair, tied up in a

ure.’ She would have been sure, if, instead of inspecting herself with such solemnity, she had smi

eadbare in many places; and in others was covered with drugget. Stands of plants, great jars of flowers, old Indian china and cabinets gave the room the pleasant aspect it certainly had. And to add to it, there were five high, long windows on one side of the room, all opening to the prettiest bit of flower-garden in the grounds — or what was con

Miss Gibson, Gibson’s daughter, aren’t you? Come to pay

nd he was shaking Molly’s hand with vehement friendline

nd she’s broken me into it at last. Very good plan, though, and quite right to make oneself fit for ladies’ society. Does y

anner in which everybody seemed to finish their meal as fast as possible, and to return to the work they had left. She tried to think that at six o’clock all the business of the day was ended, and that people might linger if they chose. She measured the distance from the sideboard to the table with her eye, and made allowances for the men who had to carry things backwards

e or two of the greatest breaks to the usual monotony of his days; a monotony in which he delighted, bu

have to do this fo

do it today, if

all proper ceremony. To-morrow I shall send yo

ike that,’

omething less formal than Mi

fashioned name, and I was christ

p to the good old

prettier than Molly, and quite as

ce, and dropping her eyes, ‘because mamma was

ject, ‘I remember how sorry every one was when she died; no one thought she was deli

your father,’ said Mrs. Hamley, seeing

sudden, so soon afte

s nearly four ye

ple who look to spending their lifetime together.

d change of colour how completely this was a new id

e truth; they did. He’s not likely to marry now, so one

in,’ said Molly, recurring to the idea, as one does to that o

just like a man who would be constant to the memory

ley, but her thoughts did not change with the room. She could not help dwelling on the danger which she fancied she had escaped, and was astonished at her own stupid

n the flesh was the most efficacious way of dispelling the phantom fears of a second wedding, which were beginning to harass his daughter’s mind; and the pleasant conviction that he could not rest till he had come over to see how she was going on in her new home, stole into her heart, although he spoke but little to her, a

his mother. I should not wonder if he published a book some day. You’re not counting right, Miss Gibson. Why, I could cheat you as easily as possible.’ And so on, till the butler came in with a solemn look, placed a large prayer-book before his master, who huddled the cards aw

odours of the honeysuckle. The soft velvet darkness hid everything that was at any dis

r’s second marriage, came across her, and spoilt the sweet peace of her final thoughts. ‘Who could he have married?’ she asked herself. ‘Miss Eyre? Miss Browning? Miss Phoebe?

it was possible papa might marry?’ kept popping up into her mouth, like a troublesome Jack-inthe-box. For the present, however, the lid was snapped down upon the intruder as often as he showed his head between her teeth. They were very polite to each other during the meal; and it was not a little tiresome to both. When it was ended the squire withdrew into his study to read the untasted newspapers. It was the custom to call the room in which Squire Hamley kept his coats, boots, and gaiters, his different sticks and favourite spud, his gun and fishing-rods, the study. There was a bureau in it, and a three-cornered arm-chair, but no books were visible. The greater part of them were kept in a large, musty-smelling room, in an unfrequented part of the house; so unfrequented that the housemaid often neglected to open the window-shutters, which looked into a part of the grounds over-grown with the luxuriant growth of shrubs. Indeed, it was a tradition in the servants’ hall that, in the late

here; but you see, madam has a fancy for being quiet in the mornings: she told your father about it, and so di

t giving directions to gardeners; and all the time Molly followed him like a little dog, her mind quite full of ‘Ravenswood’ and ‘Lucy Ashton.’ Presently, every place near the house had been inspected and regulated, and the squire was more at liberty to give his attention to his companion, as th

ould marry? That time — long

re turned round upon her, and looked at her face, he knew not why. It was very

e had ever had any reason to join Mr Gibson’s name with any known lady: it was only a loose

nature of things that he should marry again; he may do it yet, for aught I know, and I do

e say?’ asked b

seriously, my dear. Very likely he may never think of marrying again,

squire might have heard it if he had chosen. As it w

, dark Scotch firs in the centre, silvery shimmering willows close to the water’s edge. ‘We must get you punted over there, some of these days. I’m not fond of u

, there’s

herons ought to be here by now, for they’re off to the sea in August, but I have not seen one yet.

ve never seen a heron,

. He would have been off a dozen times during this walk of ours, if he’d been here; his eyes are always wandering about, and see twenty things where I only see one. Why! I have known him bolt into a copse because he saw something fifteen yards off — some plant, maybe, which he would tell me was very rare, though I should say I’d seen its marrow at every turn in the woods; and, if we came upon s

very clever, is he not?

magistrates’ meeting yesterday, “I’ve got a son who will make a noise at Cambridge, or I’m very much mistaken.” Now, is it not a queer quip of Nature,’ continued the squire, turning his honest face

Molly, startled at be

nd hands and feet as small as a lady’s. He takes after madam’s side, who, as I said, can’t tell who was their grandfather. Now, Roger is like me, a Hamley of Hamley, and no one who sees him in the street will ever think that red-brown, big-boned, clumsy chap is of gentle blood. Yet all those Cumnor people, you make such ado of in Hollingford, are mere muck of yesterday. I was talking to madam the other day about Osborne’s marrying a daughter of Lord Hollingford’s — that’s to say, if he had a daughter — he’s only got boys, as it happens; but I’m not su

, madam would be up and dressed, and glad to have her young visitor with her. He pointed out the deep purple house, with its s

g again! One had need be on one’s guard as to what one says before her. To think of her never having thought of the chan