Wives and Daughters

Lady Cumnor fell asleep, the book rested on h

te at her elegant ease in a prettily-furnished drawing-room; and she was rapidly investing this imaginary bread-winner with the form and features of the country surgeon, when there was a slight tap at the door, a

rofessional eye on the slumbering figure; 'can I

on of her willingness to accept a man whom an hour before she had simply looke

cent so pleasant, that it struck him as particularly agreeable after the broad country accent he was perpetually hearing. Then the harmonious colours of her dress, and her slow and graceful movements, had something of the same soothing effect upon his nerves that a cat's purring has upon some people's. He began to think that he should be fortunate if he could win her, for his own sake. Yesterday he had looked upo

stormy weath

rd, that for two days last week the

ick is at Boul

Miss Kirkpatrick. Cynthia remembers you with so much - affection, I may say. She was your little patient when she had the measles

ut-of-the-way name, only fit f

reproach. 'I was christened Hyacinth, and her poor father

quite prepared to plunge into the directly perso

as quite proud of my pretty name; and

Mr. Gibson began

e prejudice against her in some people; and, poor child! she will have enough to struggle with. A youn

have thought that a girl who is so fortunate as to have a mother could not feel the l

ld! how well I remember her sweet little face as she lay sleeping on my bed. I suppose sh

love my poor little Molly - to love her as your own -' He swallowed

wondered; and she began to tremble

try? Will you give me the right of introducin

done it; but he was aware that the question as to its wisdom cam

r face in

eat deal to her own, she burst into hysterical tears: it was such a wond

ut, just at the moment, uncertain what name he ought to use. After her sobbin

t bear "Clare," it does so remind me of being

n more valued, more beloved than you

ood. But still one has always h

of the various duties which lay before him, in consequence of the

face with beseeching eyes. 'I always like other people t

ver you wish. Shall we go a

are her. You will come tomorrow, wo

ly first. She has the right to know. I do ho

you'll come tomorrow and tell La

ary; but you know best, my dear. When c

t came in, and the

wake, and wishes t

ing had happened, for she particularly wished 'to prepare' Lady Cumnor; that is to s

d gone to sleep with the recollection of the passage in her husband's lette

you -- What's the matter with you both? What have you

urned round, and took hold of Mrs. Kirkpatrick's hand, and said out straight, 'I have been asking Mrs. Kirkpatrick t

ad of it! Here! shake hands with me, both of you.' Then laughing a little, she

l stop could be, and I thought it was something about Agnes, so I took the letter and read - stay! I'll read the sentence to you. Where's the letter, Clare? Oh! don't trouble yourself, here it is. "How are Clare and Gibson getting on? You despised my advice to help on that affair, but I really think a little match-making would be a very pleasant amu

nor's letter had been read aloud. Mr. Gibson tried not to think about it, for he was aware that if he dwelt upon it, he might ge

lked over before every marriage, and you two are certainly old enough to be above affectation. Go away with you.' So there was nothing for it but for them to return to

n, half

if he knew what I have done. He did so dislik

oes know, he is wiser - I mean, that he sees how second ma

tory as the first; and Mr. Gibson was quite alive to the necessity of pro

I like it,' he added. 'It would be very flat and stagnant to have only an echo of one's own opinions from one's wife. Heigho! I must tell Molly about it: dear little woman, I wonder how she'll take it! I

Gibson arrived at the hall, timing his visit as well as he could so as to have half-an-hour's private talk with Molly before Mrs. Hamley came down into the drawing-room. H

e the interview that he wished was well over. In another minute he had snapped at himself for his weakness, and put spurs to his horse. He came up to the hall at a good sharp trot; it was earlier than the usual time of his visits, and no one was expecting him; all the stablemen were in the fields, but that signified little to Mr Gibson; he walked his horse about for five minutes or so before taking him into the stable, and loosened his girths, examining him with perhaps unnecessary exactitude. He went into the house

little brown hand that was hanging do

in them. Then the light came brilliantly into them and she

ade you come while I was asleep? I lo

still held her hand, and drew her to a seat by him on a sofa,

at made me sleepy. But isn't it a gloriously hot day? I wonder if the Italian skies they

urn her father's head, so that he should exactly see the very

r that is about? Do you know, papa, I don't think you are looking wel

t to look well, for -- I have a piece of news for you, little woman.' (He felt that he was

was changed, and she was evidently unea

wkward position - a girl growing up in such a family as mine - young men - which w

trengthening indefinite presage of what was to come

home is not with us; she has other duties. I've been in great perplexity for so

he, helping him out, with a quiet dry voic

y call her Clare at the Towers. You recollect how

whatever it was that was boiling up in her breast - should find vent in cries and screams, or worse, in raging words that could never be forg

a, and still believed that it would be for her eventual happiness. He had, besides, the relief of feeling that the secret was told, the confidence made

er. She's highly respected by Lord and Lady Cumnor and their family, which is of itself a character. She has very agreeable and polished manners - o

this little bit of pla

shcombe, and has had, of course, to arrange all things for a large family. And last, but not least, she has a daughte

silent. At len

se that all this might be qui

uced. Her father started up, and quickly left the room, saying something to himself - what, she could not hear, thou

f - I don't know what to say ab

e beard her words. Just as he mounted, he t

By tomorrow we shall be more composed; you will have thought it over, and have seen that the principal - one great motive, I

ng her eyes, and looking at the empty space of air in which his form had last appeared. Her very breath seemed suspended; only, two or three times, after long intervals she drew a miserable

which she had fixed for herself - a seat almost surrounded by the drooping leaves of a weeping-ash - a seat on the long broad terrace walk on the other side of the wood, that overlooked the pleasant slope of the meadows beyond; the walk had probably been made to command this sunny, peaceful landscape, with trees, and a church spire, two or three red-tiled roofs of old cottages, and a purple bit of rising ground in the distance; and at some previous date, when there might have been a large family of Hamleys residing at the hall, ladies in hoops, and gentlemen in bag-wigs with swords b

ove, he was going to be married - away from her - away from his child - his little daughter - forgetting her own dear, dear mother. So she thought in a tumultuous kind of way, sobbing till she was wearied out, and had to gain strength by being quiet for a time, to break forth into her passion o

over his shoulder. He was coming home to lunch, having always a fine midday appetite, though he pretended to despise the meal in theory. But he knew that his mother liked his companionship then; she depended much upon he

hich he had been long wishing to find in flower, and saw it at last, with those bright keen eyes of his. Down went his net, skilfully twisted so as to retain its contents, while it lay amid the herbage, and he himself went with light and well-planted footsteps

w a light-coloured dress on the ground - somebody half-lying on the seat, so still just then, he wondered if the person, whoever it was, had fal

! if you would

d walk, or else, be the sorrow what it would, she was the natural comforter of this girl, her visitor. However, whether it was right or wrong, delicate or obtrusive, when he heard the sad voice talking again, in such tones of unco

rave, kind sympathy, but he di

see the traces of her tears and the disturbance of her feature

saw your distress. Has anything happened? - anything in which I can help you, I mean; for, of cou

she could neither stand nor walk just yet. She sate down on the sea

to some spring of water that he knew of in the wood, and in a minute or two he returned with careful steps

I can walk back now, in

r wouldn't like me to leave you to co

and examining one or two abnormal leaves of the ash-tree, partly

e married again,' s

ooked at her. Her poor wistful eyes were filling with tears as they met his, with a dumb appeal for sympathy. Her look was much more eloquent than her words. There was a

e sorry

ground, kicking softly at a loose pebble with his foot. His thoughts did not come readily to the surface in the shape of words; nor was he apt at giving comfo

e one to be a substitute for the mother. . . . I can believe,' said he, in a different tone of voice, and looking at Molly afresh, 't

were to each other - at least, wh

e wouldn't have done it. He may have thought it t

he tried to co

. He had not got hold of the right e

mpanion, friend, secretary - anything you like. He was a man with a great deal of business on hand, and often came home only to set to afresh to preparations for the next day's work. Harriet was always there, ready to help, to talk, or to be si

ittle story of Harriet - a girl who had been so much to her father, more than Molly in th

of her own,' Roger answered, with something of severe brevit

for papa's h

to him, as you say. The lady herself, too - if Harriet's stepmother had been a selfish woman, and been always clutching after the gratification of her own wishes; but she wa

, a waft of recollection bringing to her mind

ife, past, present, or to come, than was absolutely necessary for him, in order that he might comfort and help the crying girl, whom he

now, and some day you'll find it useful. One has always to try to think more of others than of oneself, and it is best not to prejudge p

tumbled over the straggling root of a tree that projected across the path. He, watchful though silent, saw this stumble, and putting out his hand held her up from falling. He still held her hand when the occasion was past; this little physical failure impressed on his heart how young and helpless

w I always fall to philosophizing, but I am sorry for you. Yes, I am; it's beyond my power to help you, as far as altering facts goes, but I can feel for you, in a way which

d luncheon, as much annoyed by the mysterious unpunctuality of her visitor as she was capable of being with anything; for she had heard that Mr. Gibson had been, and was gone, and she could not discover if

for she was careful to keep up a barrier of forms between the young

race walk.) I found Miss Gibson sitting there, crying as if he

ain! You do

ink if you could send some one to her with a glass of wine, a cup

lf, poor child,' sai

waiting already too long; you are looking quite pale. Hammond can take it,' he

he going

didn't ask, and s

acter of the affair lies in the question

t a good one on such occasions. I was as sorry as co

did yo

he best advic

o have comforted her

dvice is good it's

t you mean by advice

g to distress Mrs. Hamley by the sight of pain and suffering. She did not know that she was following Roger's injunctions to think more of others than of herself - but so she was. Mrs. Hamley was not sure if it was w

stays with them a great deal, and they call her Clare, and I believe they are very fond of h

is not very young? That's as it shoul

ve. But I know so

ery near cr

ome in good time. Roger, you've hardl

he had better leave the other two alone. His mother had such sweet power of sympathy, that she would draw the sting out of the girl's heart, when she had her alone.

he had been giving you a little lecture. He has a good heart, but he isn

made me feel how badly - oh, Mrs. Hamley, I

upon her breast. Her sorrow was not now for the fact that her fa

o, and this was what he had intended. He tried to interest her in his pursuit, cherished her first little morsel of curiosity, and nursed it into a very proper desire for further information. Then he brought out books on the subject, and translated the slightly pompous and technical language into homely every-day speech. Molly had come down to dinner, wondering how the long hours till bedtime would ever pass away: hours during which sh

ly and impulsively in harmony. He read her repentance in her eyes; he saw how much she had suffered; and he had a sharp pang at his heart in consequence. But he stopped her from speaking out her regret at her behaviour the day before, by

o go?' said she,

become better acquainted - t

id Molly, enti

by it. I can't bear Clare, which is what my lady and all the family at the Towers call he

eeling as if she were living

gone and perpetuated her own affected name by having her daughter called after her. Cynthia! One thinks

she - Cynt

hool in France, picking up airs and graces. She's to come home for the wedding, so you'll be able to get acq