"I am not going to thank you, Molly, or to tell you how I love you."
"Don't," said Molly, "I can't bear it."
"Only you know you are to be my first visitor, and if you wear brown
ribbons to a green gown, I'll turn you out of the house!" So they
parted. Mr. Gibson was there in the hall to hand Molly in. He had
ridden hard; and was now giving her two or three last injunctions as
to her health.
"Think of us on Thursday," said he. "I declare I don't know which of
her three lovers she mayn't summon at the very last moment to act the
part of bridegroom. I'm determined to be surprised at nothing; and
will give her away with a good grace to whoever comes."
They drove away, and until they were out of sight of the house, Molly
had enough to do to keep returning the kisses of the hand wafted to
her by her stepmother out of the drawing-room window, while at the
same time her eyes were fixed on a white handkerchief fluttering out
of the attic from which she herself had watched Roger's departure
nearly two years before. What changes time had brought!
When Molly arrived at the Towers she was convoyed into Lady Cumnor's
presence by Lady Harriet. It was a mark of respect to the lady of the
house, which the latter knew that her mother would expect; but she
was anxious to get it over, and take Molly up into the room which she
had been so busy arranging for her. Lady Cumnor was, however, very
kind, if not positively gracious.
"You are Lady Harriet's visitor, my dear," said she, "and I hope she
will take good care of you. If not, come and complain of her to me."
It was as near an approach to a joke as Lady Cumnor ever perpetrated,
and from it Lady Harriet knew that her mother was pleased by Molly's
manners and appearance.
"Now, here you are in your own kingdom; and into this room I shan't
venture to come without express permission. Here is the last new
_Quarterly_, and the last new novel, and the last new Essays. Now, my
dear, you needn't come down again to-day unless you like it. Parkes
shall bring you everything and anything you want. You must get strong
as fast as you can, for all sorts of great and famous people are
coming to-morrow and the next day, and I think you'll like to see
them. Suppose for to-day you only come down to lunch, and if you
like it, in the evening. Dinner is such a wearily long meal, if one
isn't strong; and you wouldn't miss much, for there's only my cousin
Charles in the house now, and he is the personification of sensible
silence."