‘I should have had one, I think, if I’d stayed longer in that atmosphere. But I’m sorry if I’ve caused you anxiety’
‘Well! well!’ said the squire, somewhat mollified. ‘And Roger, too,—there I’ve been sending him here and sending him there all the afternoon.’
‘I didn’t mind it, sir. I was only sorry you were so uneasy. I thought Osborne had gone home, for I knew it wasn’t much in his way,’ said Roger.
Molly intercepted a glance between the two brothers—a look of true confidence and love, which suddenly made her like them both under the aspect of relationship—new to her observation.
Roger came up to her, and sat down by her.
‘Well, and how are you getting on with Huber; don’t you find him very interesting?’
‘I’m afraid,’ said Molly, penitently, ‘I haven’t read much. Miss Brownings like me to talk; and, besides, there is so much to do at home before papa comes back; and Miss Browning doesn’t like me to go without her. I know it sounds nothing, but it does take up a great deal of time.’
‘When is your father coming back?’
‘Next Tuesday, I believe. He cannot stay long away.’
‘I shall ride over and pay my respects to Mrs. Gibson,’ said he. ‘I shall come as soon as I may. Your father has been a very kind friend to me ever since I was a boy. And when I come, I shall expect my pupil to have been very diligent,’ he concluded, smiling his kind, pleasant smile at idle Molly.
Then the carriage came round, and she had the long solitary drive back to Miss Brownings’. It was dark out of doors when she got there; but Miss Phoebe was standing on the stairs, with a lighted candle in her hand, peering into the darkness to see Molly come in.
‘Oh, Molly! I thought you’d never come back. Such a piece of news! Sister has gone to bed; she’s had a headache—with the excitement, I think; but she says it’s new bread. Come upstairs softly, my dear, and I’ll tell you what it is! Who do you think has been here,—drinking tea with us, too, in the most condescending manner?’
‘Lady Harriet?’ said Molly, suddenly enlightened by the word ‘condescending.’
‘Yes. Why, how did you guess it? But, after all, her call, at any rate in the first instance, was upon you. Oh, dear Molly! if you’re not in a hurry to go to bed, let me sit down quietly and tell you all about it; for my heart jumps into my mouth still when I think of how I was caught. She—that is, her ladyship—left the carriage at “The George,” and took to her feet to go shopping—just as you or I may have done many a time in our lives. And sister was taking her forty winks; and I was sitting with my gown up above my knees and my feet on the fender, pulling out my grandmother’s lace which I’d been washing. The worst has yet to be told. I’d taken off my cap, for I thought it was getting dusk and no one would come, and there was I in my black silk skull-cap, when Nancy put her head in, and whispered, “There’s a lady downstairs—a real grand one, by her talk;” and in there came my Lady Harriet, so sweet and pretty in her ways, it was some time before I forgot I had never a cap on. Sister never wakened; or never roused up, so to say. She says she thought it was Nancy bringing in the tea when she heard some one moving; for her ladyship, as soon as she saw the state of the case, came and knelt down on the rug by me, and begged my pardon so prettily for having followed Nancy upstairs without waiting for permission; and was so taken by my old lace, and wanted to know how I washed it, and where you were, and when you’d be back, and when the happy couple would be back: till sister wakened—she’s always a little bit put out, you know, when she first wakens from her afternoon nap,—and, without turning her head to see who it was, she said, quite sharp,—“Buzz, buzz, buzz! When will you learn that whispering is more fidgeting than talking out aloud? I’ve not been able to sleep at all for the chatter you and Nancy have been keeping up all this time.” You know that was a little fancy of sister’s, for she’d been snoring away as naturally as could be. So I went to her, and leant over her, and said in a low voice,—
‘ “Sister, it’s her ladyship and me that has been conversing.”
“ ‘Ladyship here, ladyship there! have you lost your wits, Phoebe, that you talk such nonsense—and in your skull-cap, too!”
‘By this time she was sitting up—and, looking round her, she saw Lady Harriet, in her velvets and silks, sitting on our rug, smiling, her bonnet off, and her pretty hair all bright with the blaze of the fire. My word! sister was up on her feet directly; and she dropped her curtsy, and made her excuses for sleeping, as fast as might be, while I went off to put on my best cap, for sister might well say I was out of my wits to go on chatting to an earl’s daughter in an old black silk skull-cap. Black silk, too! when if I’d only known she was coming, I might have put on my new brown silk, lying idle in my top drawer. And when I came back, sister was ordering tea for her ladyship,—our tea, I mean. So I took my turn at talk, and sister slipped out to put on her Sunday silk. But I don’t think we were quite so much at our ease with her ladyship as when I sat pulling out my lace in my skull-cap. And she was quite struck with our tea, and asked where we got it, for she had never tasted any like it before; and I told her we gave only 3s. 4d. a pound for it at Johnson’s—(sister says I ought to have told her the price of our company-tea, which is 5s. a pound, only that was not what we were drinking; for, as ill-luck would have it, we’d none of it in the house)—and she said she would send us some of hers, all the way from Russia or Prussia, or some out-of-the-way place, and we were to compare and see which we liked best; and if we liked hers best, she could get it for us at 3s. a pound. And she left her love for you; and, though she was going away, you were not to forget her. Sister thought such a message would set you up too much, and told me she would not be chargeable for the giving it you. “But,” I said, “a message is a message, and it’s on Molly’s own shoulders if she’s set up by it. Let us show her an example of humility, sister, though we have been sitting cheek-by-jowl in such company.” So sister humphed, and said she’d a headache, and went to bed. And now you may tell me your news, my dear.’
So Molly told her small events; which, interesting as they might have been at other times to the gossip-loving and sympathetic Miss Phoebe, were rather pale in the stronger light reflected from the visit of an earl’s daughter.
CHAPTER 15
The New Mamma
On Tuesday afternoon Molly returned home—to the home which was already strange, and what Warwickshire people would call ‘unked,’at to her. New paint, new paper, new colours; grim servants dressed in their best, and objecting to every change—from their master’s marriage to the new oilcloth in the hall, ‘which tripped em up, and threw ’em down, and was cold to the feet, and smelt just abominable.’ All these complaints Molly had to listen to, and it was not a cheerful preparation for the reception which she already felt to be so formidable.
The sound of the carriage-wheels was heard at last, and Molly went to the front door to meet them. Her father got out first, and took her hand and held it while he helped his bride to alight. Then he kissed her fondly, and passed her on to his wife; but her veil was so securely (and becomingly) fastened down, that it was some time before Mrs. Gibson could get her lips clear to greet her new daughter. Then there was luggage to be seen about; and both the travellers were occupied in this, while Molly stood by trembling with excitement, unable to help, and only conscious of Betty’s rather cross looks, as heavy box after heavy box jammed up the passage.