When the two gentlemen met they were attracted towards each other
by a similarity of character, with just enough difference in their
opinions to make the experience of each, on which such opinions
were based, valuable to the other. To Mrs. Gibson, although the
bond between them counted for very little in their intercourse, Mr.
Kirkpatrick paid very polite attention; and was, in fact, very glad
that she had done so well for herself as to marry a sensible and
agreeable man, who was able to keep her in comfort, and to behave
to her daughter in so liberal a manner. Molly struck him as a
delicate-looking girl, who might be very pretty if she had a greater
look of health and animation: indeed, looking at her critically,
there were beautiful points about her face--long soft grey eyes,
black curling eyelashes, rarely-showing dimples, perfect teeth;
but there was a languor over all, a slow depression of manner,
which contrasted unfavourably with the brightly-coloured Cynthia,
sparkling, quick, graceful, and witty. As Mr. Kirkpatrick expressed
it afterwards to his wife, he was quite in love with that girl;
and Cynthia, as ready to captivate strangers as any little girl
of three or four, rose to the occasion, forgot all her cares and
despondencies, remembered no longer her regret at having lost
something of Mr. Gibson's good opinion, and listened eagerly and made
soft replies, intermixed with naïve sallies of droll humour, till
Mr. Kirkpatrick was quite captivated. He left Hollingford, almost
surprised to have performed a duty, and found it a pleasure. For Mrs.
Gibson and Molly he had a general friendly feeling; but he did not
care if he never saw them again. But for Mr. Gibson he had a warm
respect, a strong personal liking, which he should be glad to have
ripen into a friendship, if there was time for it in this bustling
world. And he fully resolved to see more of Cynthia; his wife must
know her; they must have her up to stay with them in London, and show
her something of the world. But, on returning home, Mr. Kirkpatrick
found so much work awaiting him that he had to lock up embryo
friendships and kindly plans in some safe closet of his mind,
and give himself up, body and soul, to the immediate work of his
profession. But, in May, he found time to take his wife to the
Academy Exhibition, and some portrait there striking him as being
like Cynthia, he told his wife more about her and his visit to
Hollingford than he had ever had leisure to do before; and the
result was that on the next day a letter was sent off to Mrs. Gibson,
inviting Cynthia to pay a visit to her cousins in London, and
reminding her of many little circumstances that had occurred when she
was with them as a child, so as to carry on the clue of friendship
from that time to the present.