"Perhaps not engaged; but Mrs. Goodenough saw them loitering

together, all by their own two selves--"

"Mrs. Goodenough only crossed Heath Lane at the Shire Oak, as she was

riding in her phaeton," said Miss Browning sententiously. "We all

know what a coward she is in a carriage, so that most likely she had

only half her wits about her, and her eyes are none of the best when

she is standing steady on the ground. Molly and Cynthia have got

their new plaid shawls just alike, and they trim their bonnets alike,

and Molly is grown as tall as Cynthia since Christmas. I was always

afraid she'd be short and stumpy, but she's now as tall and slender

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as anyone need be. I'll answer for it, Mrs. Goodenough saw Molly, and

took her for Cynthia."

When Miss Browning "answered for it" Miss Phoebe gave up doubting.

She sate some time in silence revolving her thoughts. Then she said:

"It wouldn't be such a very bad match after all, sister." She spoke

very meekly, awaiting her sister's sanction to her opinion.

"Phoebe, it would be a bad match for Mary Pearson's daughter. If

I had known what I know now we'd never have had him to tea last

September."

"Why, what do you know?" asked Miss Phoebe.

"Miss Hornblower told me many things; some that I don't think

you ought to hear, Phoebe. He was engaged to a very pretty Miss

Gregson, at Henwick, where he comes from; and her father made

inquiries, and heard so much that was bad about him that he made his

daughter break off the match, and she's dead since!"

"How shocking!" said Miss Phoebe, duly impressed.

"Besides, he plays at billiards, and he bets at races, and some

people do say he keeps race-horses."

"But isn't it strange that the earl keeps him on as his agent?"

"No! perhaps not. He's very clever about land, and very sharp in all

law affairs; and my lord isn't bound to take notice--if indeed he

knows--of the manner in which Mr. Preston talks when he has taken too

much wine."

"Taken too much wine! Oh, sister, is he a drunkard? and we have had

him to tea!"

"I didn't say he was a drunkard, Phoebe," said Miss Browning,

pettishly. "A man may take too much wine occasionally, without being

a drunkard. Don't let me hear you using such coarse words, Phoebe!"

Miss Phoebe was silent for a time after this rebuke.

Presently she said, "I do hope it wasn't Molly Gibson."

"You may hope as much as you like, but I'm pretty sure it was.

However, we'd better say nothing about it to Mrs. Goodenough; she has

got Cynthia into her head, and there let her rest. Time enough to set

reports afloat about Molly when we know there's some truth in them.

Mr. Preston might do for Cynthia, who's been brought up in France,

though she has such pretty manners; but it may have made her not

particular. He must not, and he shall not, have Molly, if I go into

church and forbid the banns myself; but I'm afraid--I'm afraid

there's something between her and him. We must keep on the look-out,

Phoebe. I'll be her guardian angel, in spite of herself."




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