Wives and Daughters: An Every-Day Story
Page 49They swung in at the gates of the park in a few minutes, and drove up
through meadow-grass, ripening for hay,--it was no grand aristocratic
deer-park this--to the old red-brick hall; not three hundred yards
from the high-road. There had been no footman sent with the carriage,
but a respectable servant stood at the door, even before they drew
up, ready to receive the expected visitor, and take her into the
drawing-room where his mistress lay awaiting her.
Mrs. Hamley rose from her sofa to give Molly a gentle welcome; she
kept the girl's hand in hers after she had finished speaking, looking
into her face, as if studying it, and unconscious of the faint blush
she called up on the otherwise colourless cheeks.
"I think we shall be great friends," said she, at length. "I like
your face, and I am always guided by first impressions. Give me a
kiss, my dear."
It was far easier to be active than passive during this process of
"swearing eternal friendship," and Molly willingly kissed the sweet
"I meant to have gone and fetched you myself; but the heat oppresses
me, and I did not feel up to the exertion. I hope you had a pleasant
drive?"
"Very," said Molly, with shy conciseness.
"And now I will take you to your room; I have had you put close to
me; I thought you would like it better, even though it was a smaller
room than the other."
She rose languidly, and wrapping her light shawl round her yet
elegant figure, led the way upstairs. Molly's bedroom opened
out of Mrs. Hamley's private sitting-room; on the other side of
which was her own bedroom. She showed Molly this easy means of
communication, and then, telling her visitor she would await her in
the sitting-room, she closed the door, and Molly was left at leisure
to make acquaintance with her surroundings.
First of all, she went to the window to see what was to be seen.
changing colour in long sweeps, as the soft wind blew over it; great
old forest-trees a little on one side; and, beyond them again, to be
seen only by standing very close to the side of the window-sill, or
by putting her head out, if the window was open, the silver shimmer
of a mere, about a quarter of a mile off. On the opposite side to the
trees and the mere, the look-out was bounded by the old walls and
high-peaked roofs of the extensive farm-buildings. The deliciousness
of the early summer silence was only broken by the song of the birds,
and the nearer hum of bees. Listening to these sounds, which enhanced
the exquisite sense of stillness, and puzzling out objects obscured
by distance or shadow, Molly forgot herself, and was suddenly
startled into a sense of the present by a sound of voices in the
next room--some servant or other speaking to Mrs. Hamley. Molly
hurried to unpack her box, and arrange her few clothes in the
pretty old-fashioned chest of drawers, which was to serve her
old-fashioned and as well-preserved as it could be. The chintz
curtains were Indian calico of the last century--the colours almost
washed out, but the stuff itself exquisitely clean. There was a
little strip of bedside carpeting, but the wooden flooring, thus
liberally displayed, was of finely-grained oak, so firmly joined,
plank to plank, that no grain of dust could make its way into the
interstices. There were none of the luxuries of modern days; no
writing-table, or sofa, or pier-glass. In one corner of the walls was
a bracket, holding an Indian jar filled with pot-pourri; and that and
the climbing honeysuckle outside the open window scented the room
more exquisitely than any toilette perfumes. Molly laid out her white
gown (of last year's date and size) upon the bed, ready for the (to
her new) operation of dressing for dinner, and having arranged her
hair and dress, and taken out her company worsted-work, she opened
the door softly, and saw Mrs. Hamley lying on the sofa.