that. (The carriage to the door in ten minutes, Brown, and desire Bradley to bring my things down!) What was I asking you? Oh! how do you get on with the stepdaughter? She seemed to me to be a young lady with a pretty stubborn will of her own. I put a letter for the post down somewhere, and I cannot think where; do help me look for it, there’s a good woman. Just run to my room, and see if Brown can find it, for it is of great consequence.”

Off went Mrs. Gibson, rather unwillingly; for there were several things she wanted to speak about, and she had not heard half of what she had expected to learn of the family gossip. But all chance was gone; for, when she came back from her fruitless errand, Lady Cumnor and the duchess were in full talk, the former with the missing letter in her hand, which she was using something like a bâton to enforce her words.

“Every iota from Paris! Every i-o-ta!”

Lady Cumnor was too much of a lady not to apologise for useless trouble; but they were nearly the last words she spoke to Mrs. Gibson, for she had to go out and drive with the duchess; and the brougham to take “Clare” (as she persisted in calling Mrs. Gibson) back to Hollingford followed the carriage to the door.

Lady Harriet came away from her entourage of young men and young ladies, all prepared for some walking-expedition, to wish Mrs. Gibson good-bye.

“We shall see you at the ball,” she said. “You’ll be there with your two girls, of course, and I must have a little talk with you there; with all these visitors in the house, it has been impossible to see anything of you to-day, you know.”

Such were the facts; but rose-colour was the medium through which they were seen by Mrs. Gibson’s household listeners on her return.

“There are many visitors staying at the Towers—oh, yes! a great many: the duchess and Lady Alice, and Mr. and Mrs. Grey, and Lord Albert Monson and his sister, and my old friend, Captain James of the Blues—many more in fact. But, of course, I preferred going to Lady Cumnor’s own room, where I could see her and Lady Harriet quietly, and where we were not disturbed by the bustle downstairs. Of course we were obliged to go down to lunch; and then I saw my old friends, and renewed pleasant acquaintances. But I really could hardly get any connected conversation with any one. Lord Cumnor seemed so delighted to see me there again: though there were six or seven between us, he was always interrupting with some civil or kind speech especially addressed to me. And, after lunch, Lady Cumnor asked me all sorts of questions about my new life, with as much interest as if I had been her daughter. To be sure, when the duchess came in we had to leave off, and talk about the trousseau she is preparing for Lady Alice. Lady Harriet made such a point of our meeting at the ball; she is such a good, affectionate creature, is Lady Harriet!”

This last was said in a tone of meditative appreciation.

The afternoon of the day on which the ball was to take place, a servant rode over from Hamley with two lovely nosegays, “with the Mr. Hamleys’ compliments to Miss Gibson and Miss Kirkpatrick.” Cynthia was the first to receive them. She came dancing into the drawing-room, flourishing the flowers about in either hand, and danced up to Molly, who was trying to settle to her reading, by way of helping on the time till the evening came.

“Look, Molly, look! Here are bouquets for us? Long life to the givers!”

“Who are they from?” asked Molly, taking hold of one, and examining it with tender delight at its beauty.

“Who from? Why, the two paragons of Hamleys to be sure. Isn’t it a pretty attention?”


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