"Does she say that to you in cold blood? Do you know you are telling
me very hard truths, Miss Gibson? If they are truths, that is to
say," he continued, recovering himself a little. "Young ladies are
very fond of the words 'hate' and 'detest.' I've known many who have
applied them to men whom they were all the time hoping to marry."
"I cannot tell about other people," said Molly; "I only know that
Cynthia does--" Here she hesitated for a moment; she felt for his
pain, and so she hesitated; but then she brought it out--"does as
nearly hate you as anybody like her ever does hate."
"Like her?" said he, repeating the words almost unconsciously,
seizing on anything to try and hide his mortification.
"I mean, I should hate worse," said Molly in a low voice.
But he did not attend much to her answer. He was working the point of
his stick into the turf, and his eyes were bent on it.
"So now would you mind sending her back the letters by me? I do
assure you that you cannot make her marry you."
"You are very simple, Miss Gibson," said he, suddenly lifting up
his head. "I suppose you don't know that there is any other feeling
that can be gratified, except love. Have you never heard of revenge?
Cynthia has cajoled me with promises, and little as you or she may
believe me--well, it's no use speaking of that. I don't mean to let
her go unpunished. You may tell her that. I shall keep the letters,
and make use of them as I see fit when the occasion arises."
Molly was miserably angry with herself for her mismanagement of the
affair. She had hoped to succeed: she had only made matters worse.
What new argument could she use? Meanwhile he went on, lashing
himself up as he thought how the two girls must have talked him over,
bringing in wounded vanity to add to the rage of disappointed love.
"Mr. Osborne Hamley may hear of their contents, though he may be too
honourable to read them. Nay, even your father may hear whispers;
and if I remember them rightly, Miss Cynthia Kirkpatrick does not
always speak in the most respectful terms of the lady who is now Mrs.
Gibson. There are--"
"Stop," said Molly. "I won't hear anything out of these letters,
written, when she was almost without friends, to you, whom she looked
upon as a friend! But I have thought of what I will do next. I give
you fair warning. If I had not been foolish, I should have told my
father, but Cynthia made me promise that I would not. So I will tell
it all, from beginning to end, to Lady Harriet, and ask her to speak
to her father. I feel sure that she will do it; and I don't think you
will dare to refuse Lord Cumnor."