One day Mr. Gibson came in, bright and swift.
"Molly," said he, "where's Cynthia?"
"Gone out to do some errands--"
"Well, it's a pity--but never mind. Put on your bonnet and cloak as
fast as you can. I've had to borrow old Simpson's dog-cart,--there
would have been room both for you and Cynthia; but as it is, you must
walk back alone. I'll drive you as far on the Barford Road as I can,
and then you must jump down. I can't take you on to Broadhurst's, I
may be kept there for hours."
Mrs. Gibson was out of the room; out of the house it might be, for
all Molly cared, now she had her father's leave and command. Her
bonnet and cloak were on in two minutes, and she was sitting by her
father's side, the back seat shut up, and the light weight going
swiftly and merrily bumping over the stone-paved lanes.
"Oh, this is charming!" said Molly, after a toss-up on her seat from
a tremendous bump.
"For youth, but not for crabbed age," said Mr. Gibson. "My bones are
getting rheumatic, and would rather go smoothly over macadamized
streets."
"That's treason to this lovely view and this fine pure air, papa.
Only I don't believe you."
"Thank you. As you are so complimentary, I think I shall put you down
at the foot of this hill; we've passed the second mile-stone from
Hollingford."
"Oh, let me just go up to the top! I know we can see the blue range
of the Malverns from it, and Dorrimer Hall among the woods; the horse
will want a minute's rest, and then I will get down without a word."
So she went up to the top of the hill; and there they sate still a
minute or two, enjoying the view, without much speaking. The woods
were golden; the old house of purple-red brick, with its twisted
chimneys, rose up from among them facing on to green lawns, and a
placid lake; beyond again were the Malvern Hills.
"Now jump down, lassie, and make the best of your way home before it
gets dark. You'll find the cut over Croston Heath shorter than the
road we've come by."
To get to Croston Heath, Molly had to go down a narrow lane
overshadowed by trees, with picturesque old cottages dotted here and
there on the steep sandy banks; and then there came a small wood,
and then there was a brook to be crossed on a plank-bridge, and up
the steeper fields on the opposite side were cut steps in the turfy
path; these ended, she was on Croston Heath, a wide-stretching
common skirted by labourers' dwellings, past which a near road to
Hollingford lay.