"Then he is not much affected by Cynthia's breaking off her
engagement?" (Mrs. Gibson could afford to call it an "engagement"
now.) "I never did give him credit for very deep feelings."
"On the contrary, he feels it very acutely. He and I had a long talk
about it, yesterday."
Both Molly and Mrs. Gibson would have liked to have heard something
more about this conversation; but Mr. Gibson did not choose to go on
with the subject. The only point which he disclosed was that Roger
had insisted on his right to have a personal interview with Cynthia;
and, on hearing that she was in London at present, had deferred any
further explanation or expostulation by letter, preferring to await
her return.
Molly went on with her questions on other subjects. "And Mrs. Osborne
Hamley? How is she?"
"Wonderfully brightened up by Roger's presence. I don't think I've
ever seen her smile before; but she gives him the sweetest smiles
from time to time. They are evidently good friends; and she loses her
strange startled look when she speaks to him. I suspect she has been
quite aware of the Squire's wish that she should return to France;
and has been hard put to it to decide whether to leave her child or
not. The idea that she would have to make some such decision came
upon her when she was completely shattered by grief and illness, and
she hasn't had any one to consult as to her duty until Roger came,
upon whom she has evidently firm reliance. He told me something of
this himself."
"You seem to have had quite a long conversation with him, papa!"
"Yes. I was going to see old Abraham, when the Squire called to me
over the hedge, as I was jogging along. He told me the news; and
there was no resisting his invitation to come back and lunch with
them. Besides, one gets a great deal of meaning out of Roger's words;
it didn't take so very long a time to hear this much."
"I should think he would come and call upon us soon," said Mrs.
Gibson to Molly, "and then we shall see how much we can manage to
hear."
"Do you think he will, papa?" said Molly, more doubtfully. She
remembered the last time he was in that very room, and the hopes with
which he left it; and she fancied that she could see traces of this
thought in her father's countenance at his wife's speech.
"I can't tell, my dear. Until he's quite convinced of Cynthia's
intentions, it can't be very pleasant for him to come on mere visits
of ceremony to the house in which he has known her; but he's one who
will always do what he thinks right, whether pleasant or not."