"But can't you do Cynthia's room, and not mine? Please let mine

alone."

"No, indeed! I couldn't agree to that. Only think what would be said

of me by everybody; petting my own child and neglecting my husband's!

I couldn't bear it."

"No one need know."

"In such a tittle-tattle place as Hollingford! Really, Molly, you are

either very stupid or very obstinate, or else you don't care what

hard things may be said about me: and all for a selfish fancy of

your own! No! I owe myself the justice of acting in this matter as I

please. Every one shall know I'm not a common stepmother. Every penny

I spend on Cynthia I shall spend on you too; so it's no use talking

any more about it."

So Molly's little white dimity bed, her old-fashioned chest of

drawers, and her other cherished relics of her mother's maiden-days,

were consigned to the lumber-room; and after a while, when Cynthia

and her great French boxes had come home, the old furniture that had

filled up the space required for the fresh importation of trunks,

disappeared likewise into the same room.

All this time the family at the Towers had been absent; Lady Cumnor

had been ordered to Bath for the early part of the winter, and her

family were with her there. On dull rainy days, Mrs. Gibson used to

bethink her of missing "the Cumnors," for so she had taken to calling

them since her position had become more independent of theirs. It

marked a distinction between her intimacy in the family, and the

reverential manner in which the townspeople were accustomed to speak

of "the earl and the countess." Both Lady Cumnor and Lady Harriet

wrote to their "dear Clare" from time to time. The former had

generally some commissions that she wished to have executed at the

Towers, or in the town; and no one could do them so well as Clare,

who was acquainted with all the tastes and ways of the countess.

These commissions were the cause of various bills for flys and cars

from the George Inn. Mr. Gibson pointed out this consequence to

his wife; but she, in return, bade him remark that a present of

game was pretty sure to follow upon the satisfactory execution of

Lady Cumnor's wishes. Somehow, Mr. Gibson did not quite like this

consequence either; but he was silent about it, at any rate. Lady

Harriet's letters were short and amusing. She had that sort of regard

for her old governess which prompted her to write from time to time,

and to feel glad when the half-voluntary task was accomplished. So

there was no real outpouring of confidence, but enough news of the

family and gossip of the place she was in, as she thought would

make Clare feel that she was not forgotten by her former pupils,

intermixed with moderate but sincere expressions of regard. How

those letters were quoted and referred to by Mrs. Gibson in her

conversations with the Hollingford ladies! She had found out their

effect at Ashcombe; and it was not less at Hollingford. But she was

rather perplexed at kindly messages to Molly, and at inquiries as

to how the Miss Brownings liked the tea she had sent; and Molly

had first to explain, and then to narrate at full length, all the

occurrences of the afternoon at Ashcombe Manor-house, and Lady

Harriet's subsequent call upon her at Miss Brownings'.




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