"Well, I suppose young ladies like their bedrooms decked out in this
way! It's very pretty certainly, but--"
"I liked my own old room better, papa; but perhaps Cynthia is
accustomed to such decking up."
"Perhaps; at any rate, she'll see we've tried to make it pretty.
Yours is like hers. That's right. It might have hurt her, if hers had
been smarter than yours. Now, good-night in your fine flimsy bed."
Molly was up betimes--almost before it was light--arranging her
pretty Hamley flowers in Cynthia's room. She could hardly eat her
breakfast that morning. She ran upstairs and put on her things,
thinking that Mrs. Gibson was quite sure to go down to the "George
Inn," where the "Umpire" stopped, to meet her daughter after a two
years' absence. But, to her surprise, Mrs. Gibson had arranged
herself at her great worsted-work frame, just as usual; and she, in
her turn, was astonished at Molly's bonnet and cloak.
"Where are you going so early, child? The fog hasn't cleared away
yet."
"I thought you would go and meet Cynthia; and I wanted to go with
you."
"She will be here in half an hour; and dear papa has told the
gardener to take the wheelbarrow down for her luggage. I'm not sure
if he is not gone himself."
"Then are not you going?" asked Molly, with a good deal of
disappointment.
"No, certainly not. She will be here almost directly. And, besides,
I don't like to expose my feelings to every passer-by in High Street.
You forget I have not seen her for two years, and I hate scenes in
the market-place."
She settled herself to her work again; and Molly, after some
consideration, gave up her own going, and employed herself in looking
out of the downstairs window which commanded the approach from the
town.
"Here she is--here she is!" she cried out at last. Her father was
walking by the side of a tall young lady; William the gardener
was wheeling along a great cargo of baggage. Molly flew to the
front-door, and had it wide open to admit the new-comer some time
before she arrived.
"Well! here she is. Molly, this is Cynthia. Cynthia, Molly. You're to
be sisters, you know."
Molly saw the beautiful, tall, swaying figure, against the light of
the open door, but could not see any of the features that were, for
the moment, in shadow. A sudden gush of shyness had come over her
just at the instant, and quenched the embrace she would have given a
moment before. But Cynthia took her in her arms, and kissed her on
both cheeks.