“No! I’m sure you’ve not: only look at the way he loves you. Why, you are his first thought: he may not speak about it, but any one may see it. And dear, dear Mrs. Hamley,” said Molly, determined to say out all that was in her mind, now that she had once got the word, “don’t you think that it would be better not to misjudge Mr. Osborne Hamley? We don’t know what he has done with the money; he is so good (is he not?) that he may have wanted it to relieve some poor person—some tradesman, for instance, pressed by creditors—some”——

“You forget, dear,” said Mrs. Hamley, smiling a little at the girl’s impetuous romance, but sighing the next instant, “that all the other bills come from tradesmen, who complain piteously of being kept out of their money.”

Molly was non-plussed for the moment; but then she said—

“I daresay they imposed upon him. I’m sure I’ve heard stories of young men being made regular victims of by the shopkeepers in great towns.”

“You’re a great darling, child,” said Mrs. Hamley, comforted by Molly’s strong partisanship, unreasonable and ignorant though it was.

“And, besides,” continued Molly, “some one must be acting wrongly in Osborne’s—Mr. Osborne Hamley’s, I mean—I can’t help saying Osborne sometimes, but, indeed, I always think of him as Mr. Osborne”——

“Never mind, Molly, what you call him; only go on talking! It seems to do me good to hear the hopeful side taken. The Squire has been so hurt and displeased; strange-looking men coming into the neighbourhood, too, questioning the tenants, and grumbling about the last fall of timber, as if they were calculating on the Squire’s death.”

“That’s just what I was going to speak about. Doesn’t it show that they are bad men? and would bad men scruple to impose upon him, and to tell lies in his name, and to ruin him?”

“Don’t you see, you only make him out weak, instead of wicked?”

“Yes; perhaps I do. But I don’t think he is weak. You know yourself, dear Mrs. Hamley, how very clever he really is. Besides, I would rather he was weak than wicked. Weak people may find themselves all at once strong in heaven, when they see things quite clearly; but I don’t think the wicked will turn themselves into virtuous people all at once.”

“I think I’ve been very weak, Molly,” said Mrs. Hamley, stroking Molly’s curls affectionately. “I’ve made such an idol of my beautiful Osborne; and he turns out to have feet of clay, not strong enough to stand on the firm ground. And that’s the best view of his conduct, too!”

What with his anger against his son, and his anxiety about his wife, the difficulty of raising the money immediately required, and his irritation at the scarce-concealed inquiries made by strangers as to the value of his property, the poor Squire was in a sad state. He was angry and impatient with every one who came near him, and then was depressed at his own violent temper and unjust words. The old servants, who perhaps cheated him in many small things, were beautifully patient under his upbraidings. They could understand bursts of passion, and knew the cause of his variable moods as well as he did himself. The butler, who was accustomed to argue with his master about every fresh direction as to his work, now nudged Molly at dinner-time, to make her eat some dish which she had just been declining, and explained his conduct afterwards as follows—

“You see, miss, me and cook had planned a dinner as would tempt master to eat; but, when you say, ‘No, thank you,’ when I hand you anything, master never so much as looks at it. But if you take a thing, and eats with a relish, why first he waits, and then he looks, and by-and-by he smells; and then he finds