“Fancy old Goody Henbury struggling up to my surgery, groaning at every step, and then being told to just step on seven miles farther! Or take the other end of society—I don’t think my Lady Cumnor’s smart groom would thank me for having to ride on to Hamley, every time his mistress wants me.”

“Well, well, I submit. I am a woman. Molly, thou art a woman! Go and order some strawberries and cream for this father of yours. Such humble offices fall within the province of women. Strawberries and cream are all kindness and no common-sense, for they’ll give him a horrid fit of indigestion.”

“Please speak for yourself, Mrs. Hamley,” said Molly merrily. “I ate—oh, such a great basketful yesterday, and the Squire went himself to the dairy and brought out a great bowl of cream, when he found me at my busy work. And I’m as well as ever I was, to-day, and have never had a touch of indigestion near me.”

“She’s a good girl,” said her father, when she had danced out of hearing. The words were not quite an inquiry, he was so certain of his answer. There was a mixture of tenderness and trust in his eyes, as he awaited the reply, which came in a moment.

“She’s a darling. I cannot tell you how fond the Squire and I are of her; both of us. I am so delighted to think she isn’t to go away for a long time. The first thing I thought of this morning when I wakened up, was that she would soon have to return to you, unless I could persuade you into leaving her with me a little longer. And now she must stay —oh, two months at least.”

It was quite true that the Squire had become very fond of Molly. The chance of having a young girl dancing and singing inarticulate ditties about the house and garden, was indescribable in its novelty to him. And then Molly was so willing and so wise; ready both to talk and to listen at the right times. Mrs. Hamley was quite right in speaking of her husband’s fondness for Molly. But either she herself chose a wrong time for telling him of the prolongation of the girl’s visit, or one of the fits of temper to which he was liable, but which he generally strove to check in the presence of his wife, was upon him; at any rate, he received the news in anything but a gracious frame of mind.

“Stay longer! Did Gibson ask for it?”

“Yes! I don’t see what else is to become of her; Miss Eyre away and all. It’s a very awkward position for a motherless girl like her to be at the head of a household with two young men in it.”

“That’s Gibson’s look-out; he should have thought of it before taking pupils, or apprentices, or whatever he calls them.”

“My dear Squire! why, I thought you’d be as glad as I was—as I am—to keep Molly. I asked her to stay for an indefinite time; two months at least.”

“And to be in the house with Osborne! Roger, too, will be at home.”

By the cloud in the Squire’s eyes, Mrs. Hamley read his mind.

“Oh, she’s not at all the sort of girl young men of their age would take to. We like her, because we see what she really is; but lads of one and two and twenty want all the accessories of a young woman.”

“Want what?” growled the Squire.

“Such things as becoming dress, style of manner. They would not at their age even see that she is pretty; their ideas of beauty would include colour.”