Wives and Daughters

three days before; and the squire himself had appeared to be put out without any visible cause. They had not chosen to tell Molly that Osborne's name had only appeared very low down in the mathemati

, both physically and mentally-because he bore her maiden name. She had indoctrinated Molly with her faith, and, in spite of her amusement at the housemaid's speech, the girl visitor would have been as anxious as any one to show her feudal loyalty to the heir, if indeed it had been he that was coming. After luncheon, Mrs. Hamley went to rest, in preparation for Roger's return; and Molly also retired to her own room, feeling that it would be better for her to remain there until dinner-time, and so to leave the father and mother to receive their boy in privacy. She took a book of MS. poems with her; they were all of Osborne Hamley's composition; and his mother had read some of them aloud to her young visitor more than once. Molly had asked permission to copy one or two of those which were her greatest favourites; and this quiet summer afternoon she to

wind, but answe

tomed sad and

hall downstairs was paved with diamonds of black and white marble; the low wide staircase that went in short flights around the hall, till you could look down upon the marble floor from the top story of the house, was uncarpeted-uncovered. The Squire was too proud of his beautifully-joined oaken flooring to cover this stair-case up unnecessarily; not to say a word of the usual state of want of ready money to expe

wind, but answe

lly was too young to have any complication of motives which should prevent her going at once to try and give what comfort she could. In an instant she was kneeling at Mrs. Hamley's feet, holding the poor lady's hands, ki

she, at last. "Roger has b

im?" asked Mo

where he had expected, and had led us to expect. But the Squire has never been at college, and does not understand college terms, and he has been asking Roger all about it, and Roger has been telling him,

t think Mr. Roger should have told; he had no need to begin so soon a

carried all before him. But Roger said that after failing like this, he is not very likely to get a fellowship, which the Squire had placed his hopes on. Osborne himself seemed so sure of it, that the squire can't understand it, and is seriously angry, and growing more so the more he talks about it. He has kept it in two or three days, and t

became more composed; and at length she dismisse

row; in one's pride (for I was so proud last week, so confident), and in one's disappointment. And now your being a fou

rrival. Her unconscious fealty to Osborne was not in the least shaken by his having come to grief at Cambridge. Only she was indignant-w

door, but she could not be quite sure. Mrs. Hamley came a little forwards to meet her, and introduced her in so fondly intimate a way to her son, that Molly, innocent and simple, knowing nothing but Hollingford manners, which wer

ly merry-gave the varying expressions of his face a greater range "from grave to gay, from lively to severe," than is common with most men. To Molly, who was not finely discriminative in her glances at the stranger this first night, he simply appeared "heavy-looking, clumsy," and "a person she was sure she should never get on with." He certainly did not seem to care much what impression he made upon his mother's visitor. He was at that age when young men admire a formed beauty more than a face with any amount of future capability of loveliness, and when they are morbidly conscious of the difficulty of finding subjects of conversation in talking to girls in a state of feminine hobbledehoyhood. Besides, his thoughts were full of other subjects, which he did not intend to allow to ooze out in words, yet he wanted to prevent any of that heavy silence which he feared might be impending-with an angry and displeased father, and a timorous and distressed mother. He only looked upon Molly as a badly-dressed, and rather awkward girl, with black hair and

of the Burgundy wit

oice. The butler answered in the same tone. Molly sitt

ove six bottles of that seal left; an

d round with a g

the Burgundy with the

ors men would have said the same. Mr. Osborne wished a tree cut down, or kept standing, or had such-and-such a fancy about the game, or desired something unusual about the horses; and they had all to attend to it as if it were law. But to-day the Burgundy with the yellow seal was to be brought; and it was brought. Molly testified with quiet vehemence of actio

e saw them loitering about in the twilight out-of-doors; Roger hatless, his hands in his pockets, lounging by

Vic

to E

ith which the large leather-covered table was strewn; and she softly withdrew before he could turn his head and see her, so as to distinguish her from one of the housemaids. He rode out every day, sometimes with his father about the outlying fields, sometimes far away for a good gallop. Molly would have enjoyed accompanying him on these occasions, for she was very fond of riding; and there had been some talk of sending for her habit and grey pony when first she came to Hamley; only the Squire, after some co

s pleasanter bef

rds and his silence, made these glimpses of intercourse with him inexpressibly charming. Latterly her burden had always been, "When may I come home, papa?" It was not that she was unhappy, or uncomfortable; she was passionately fond of Mrs. Hamley, she was a favourite of the Squire's, and could not as yet fully understand why some people were so much afraid of him; and as for Roger, if he did not add t

the youngest, considerably lightened by co-operation; and, at length, she had leisure to be an invalid. She was, however, too energetic to allow herself this indulgence constantly; only she permitted herself to break down occasionally after a long course of dinners, late hours, and London atmosphere: and then, leaving Lady Harriet with either Lady Cuxhaven or Lady Agnes Manners, she betook herself to the comparative quiet of the Towers, where she found occupation in doing her benevolence, which was sadly neglected in the hurly-burly of London. This particular summer she had broken down earlier than usual, and longed for the repose of the country. She believed that

ping me over that long day. You could stay in the country till Monday, and have a few days' rest and good air; you would return

o Maidenhead on the 20th, I should be so sorry to miss it: and Mrs. Duncan's ball, and Grisi's concert; please, don't want me. Besides, I shoul

ighing, "I had forgotten the Maidenhead w

greatest fun to watch them last year at Sir Edward's, doing the honours of their grandfather's house to much such a collection of humble admirers as you get together at t

uldn't you have Clare to stay with you? You like her, and she is just the person to save you the troubles of hosp

fraid she is not doing too well as it is; and she has been so very unlucky ever since she left us-first her husband died, and then she lost Lady Davies' situation,

s so useful and agreeable, and has such pleasant manners, I should have thought any one

ion? Most people who keep governesses for their childr

ut I call you particular, Mary, and I don't think

Lady Cumnor, a good deal annoyed at this spee

as ever she could; but then you know, or rather you didn't know, some of the masters admired our very pretty governess, and there was a kind of respectable veiled flirtation going on, which never came to anything, to be sure; and then you were often so overwhelmed with your business as a great lady-fashionable and benevolent, and all that sort of thing-that yo

ays is true, Mary?" asked La

paused a minute-"that made me fancy that she had a way of flattering and indulging them-not quite conscientious, I used to think. But girls are severe judges, and certainly she had had an anxious enough lifetime. I am always so glad when w

t could she do with her daughter then, but send her to school? and after that, when Clare is asked to go visiting, and is too modest to b

o plan for mamma's comfort. I don't see that she can do better than ask Mrs

that's not it-'Mr. Preston is most kind in sending me fruit and flowers from the Manor-house, according to dear Lord Cumnor's kind injunction.' Oh, here it is! 'The vacation begins on the 11th, according to the usual custom of schools in Ashcombe; and I must

great friends; I was her confidant in her loves with poor Mr. Kirkpatrick, and

race or Lily. Why, Harriet, you could not have been older than Gr

n't admit novels into your school-room, Mary; so your daughters wouldn't be able to admi

ou talking of love in that way; it is

years too late. I've talked all the freshness off lo

or, and rather annoyed my lord; as they, the parents, could see no objection to the gentleman i

Towers; why, she must be seventeen or more; she would really b

ried, and I'm nearly nine-and

twenty now, and you look a great deal younger. There is no need

to make out how old Cynthia Kirkpatrick wa

Cynthia at home for the holidays; especially as the period when the vacation in French schools commences differs from that common in England; and it might occasion some confusion in my arrangements if darling Cynthia were to come to Ashcombe, and occupy my time and thoughts s

s. And Agnes wants to go there for change of air, as soon as she is strong enough after her confinement. And ev

let me, mamma; and I'll bring Grace, who is looking rather pale an

p, "I should be ashamed of feeling dull with m

's character was perhaps a little too ponderous for him in reality, but he was always full of admiration for all her words and deeds, and used to

lification on Thursday. I always enjoy that day; they are such nice, friendly people, those good Hollingford ladies. Then I'll have a day with Sheepshanks, and perhaps I m

said Lady Cu

right, my dear. Preston's

ke him," sa

arp fellow. He's such a good-looking m

ndsome or not. They don't belong to the c

Clare and her prospects. He is constantly suggesting something that can be done to her house, and I know h

Cumnor, with a faint suspic

ad. No! no! he's too young for that. You must look out for some middl

r did it for my own daughters. I'm not likely to

don't know; for she's an uncommonly pretty woman for her age, and her having lived in our family, and your having had her so often with

my lord. I suppose we had better go by the

other things than Mrs. Kirkpatrick and h