By this time Mrs. Goodenough gave evident signs of being tired;
Molly's misdemeanors and Miss Browning's broken teacup were not as
exciting subjects of conversation as Mrs. Gibson's newly-discovered
good luck in having a successful London lawyer for a relation.
Mr. Kirkpatrick had been, like many other men, struggling on in his
profession, and encumbered with a large family of his own; he was
ready to do a good turn for his connections, if it occasioned him no
loss of time, and if (which was, perhaps, a primary condition) he
remembered their existence. Cynthia's visit to Doughty Street nine
or ten years ago had not made much impression upon him after he had
once suggested its feasibility to his good-natured wife. He was even
rather startled every now and then by the appearance of a pretty
little girl amongst his own children, as they trooped in to dessert,
and had to remind himself who she was. But as it was his custom
to leave the table almost immediately and to retreat into a small
back-room called his study, to immerse himself in papers for the rest
of the evening, the child had not made much impression upon him; and
probably the next time he remembered her existence was when Mrs.
Kirkpatrick wrote to him to beg him to receive Cynthia for a night on
her way to school at Boulogne. The same request was repeated on her
return; but it so happened that he had not seen her either time; and
only dimly remembered some remarks which his wife had made on one of
these occasions, that it seemed to her rather hazardous to send so
young a girl so long a journey without making more provision for her
safety than Mrs. Kirkpatrick had done. He knew that his wife would
fill up all deficiencies in this respect as if Cynthia had been her
own daughter; and thought no more about her until he received an
invitation to attend Mrs. Kirkpatrick's wedding with Mr. Gibson, the
highly-esteemed surgeon of Hollingford, &c. &c.--an attention which
irritated instead of pleasing him. "Does the woman think I have
nothing to do but run about the country in search of brides and
bridegrooms, when this great case of Houghton _v._ Houghton is coming
on, and I haven't a moment to spare?" he asked of his wife.
"Perhaps she never heard of it," suggested Mrs. Kirkpatrick.
"Nonsense! the case has been in the papers for days."
"But she mayn't know you are engaged in it."
"She mayn't," said he, meditatively--such ignorance was possible.
But now the great case of Houghton _v._ Houghton was a thing of the
past; the hard struggle was over, the comparative table-land of Q.
C.-dom gained, and Mr. Kirkpatrick had leisure for family feeling and
recollection. One day in the Easter vacation he found himself near
Hollingford; he had a Sunday to spare, and he wrote to offer himself
as a visitor to the Gibsons from Friday till Monday, expressing
strongly (what he really felt, in a less degree,) his wish to make
Mr. Gibson's acquaintance. Mr. Gibson, though often overwhelmed with
professional business, was always hospitable; and moreover, it was
always a pleasure to him to get out of the somewhat confined mental
atmosphere which he had breathed over and over again, and have a
whiff of fresh air: a glimpse of what was passing in the great world
beyond his daily limits of thought and action. So he was ready to
give a cordial welcome to his unknown relation. Mrs. Gibson was
in a flutter of sentimental delight, which she fancied was family
affection, but which might not have been quite so effervescent if Mr.
Kirkpatrick had remained in his former position of struggling lawyer,
with seven children, living in Doughty Street.