"To be sure," said the Squire, setting the child down. He had been
holding him in his arms the last few minutes: but now he wanted all
his eyes to look into Mr. Gibson's face. "I say," said he, catching
hold of Mr. Gibson's arm, "what's the matter, man? Don't twitch up
your face like that, but speak!"
"Nothing's the matter," said Mr. Gibson, hastily. "Only I want her at
home, under my own eye;" and he turned away to go to the house. But
the Squire left his field and his weeders, and kept at Mr. Gibson's
side. He wanted to speak, but his heart was so full he did not know
what to say. "I say, Gibson," he got out at last, "your Molly is
liker a child of mine than a stranger; and I reckon we've all on us
been coming too hard upon her. You don't think there's much amiss, do
you?"
"How can I tell?" said Mr. Gibson, almost savagely. But any hastiness
of temper was instinctively understood by the Squire; and he was not
offended, though he did not speak again till they reached the house.
Then he went to order the carriage, and stood by sorrowful enough
while the horses were being put in. He felt as if he should not know
what to do without Molly; he had never known her value, he thought,
till now. But he kept silence on this view of the case; which was a
praiseworthy effort on the part of one who usually let by-standers
see and hear as much of his passing feelings as if he had had a
window in his breast. He stood by while Mr. Gibson helped the
faintly-smiling, tearful Molly into the carriage. Then the Squire
mounted on the step and kissed her hand; but when he tried to thank
her and bless her, he broke down; and as soon as he was once more
safely on the ground, Mr. Gibson cried out to the coachman to drive
on. And so Molly left Hamley Hall. From time to time her father
rode up to the window, and made some little cheerful and apparently
careless remark. When they came within two miles of Hollingford, he
put spurs to his horse, and rode briskly past the carriage windows,
kissing his hand to the occupant as he did so. He went on to prepare
her home for Molly: when she arrived Mrs. Gibson was ready to greet
her. Mr. Gibson had given one or two of his bright, imperative
orders, and Mrs. Gibson was feeling rather lonely "without either of
her two dear girls at home," as she phrased it, to herself as well as
to others.