"Bring up a bottle of the Burgundy with the yellow seal."
He spoke low; he had no spirit to speak in his usual voice. The
butler answered in the same tone. Molly sitting near them, and silent
herself, heard what they said.
"If you please, sir, there are not above six bottles of that seal
left; and it is Mr. Osborne's favourite wine."
The Squire turned round with a growl in his voice.
"Bring up a bottle of the Burgundy with the yellow seal, as I said."
The butler went away wondering. "Mr. Osborne's" likes and dislikes
had been the law of the house in general until now. If he had liked
any particular food or drink, any seat or place, any special degree
of warmth or coolness, his wishes were to be attended to; for he
was the heir, and he was delicate, and he was the clever one of
the family. All the out-of-doors men would have said the same.
Mr. Osborne wished a tree cut down, or kept standing, or had
such-and-such a fancy about the game, or desired something unusual
about the horses; and they had all to attend to it as if it were
law. But to-day the Burgundy with the yellow seal was to be brought;
and it was brought. Molly testified with quiet vehemence of action;
she never took wine, so she need not have been afraid of the man's
pouring it into her glass; but as an open mark of fealty to the
absent Osborne, however little it might be understood, she placed the
palm of her small brown hand over the top of the glass, and held it
there, till the wine had gone round, and Roger and his father were in
full enjoyment of it.
After dinner, too, the gentlemen lingered long over their dessert,
and Molly heard them laughing; and then she saw them loitering
about in the twilight out-of-doors; Roger hatless, his hands in his
pockets, lounging by his father's side, who was now able to talk in
his usual loud and cheerful way, forgetting Osborne. _Væ victis!_
And so in mute opposition on Molly's side, in polite indifference,
scarcely verging upon kindliness on his, Roger and she steered
clear of each other. He had many occupations in which he needed no
companionship, even if she had been qualified to give it. The worst
was, that she found he was in the habit of occupying the library,
her favourite retreat, in the mornings before Mrs. Hamley came down.
She opened the half-closed door a day or two after his return home,
and found him busy among books and papers, with which the large
leather-covered table was strewn; and she softly withdrew before he
could turn his head and see her, so as to distinguish her from one
of the housemaids. He rode out every day, sometimes with his father
about the outlying fields, sometimes far away for a good gallop.
Molly would have enjoyed accompanying him on these occasions, for
she was very fond of riding; and there had been some talk of sending
for her habit and grey pony when first she came to Hamley; only the
Squire, after some consideration, had said he so rarely did more
than go slowly from one field to another, where his labourers were
at work, that he feared she would find such slow work--ten minutes
riding through heavy land, twenty minutes sitting still on horseback,
listening to the directions he should have to give to his men--rather
dull. Now, when if she had had her pony here she might have ridden
out with Roger, without giving him any trouble--she would have taken
care of that--nobody seemed to think of renewing the proposal.