But Cynthia returned to Hollingford one Tuesday morning, and, in answer to her mother’s anxious inquiries on the subject, would only say that Mr. Henderson had not offered again. Why should he? She had refused him once, and he did not know the reason of her refusal, at least one of the reasons. She did not know if she should have taken him, if there had been no such person as Roger Hamley in the world. No! Uncle and aunt Kirkpatrick had never heard anything about Roger’s offer—nor had her cousins. She had always declared her wish to keep it a secret, and she had not mentioned it to any one, whatever other people might have done. Underneath this light and careless vein there were other feelings; but Mrs. Gibson was not one to probe beneath the surface. She had set her heart on Mr. Henderson’s marrying Cynthia, very early in their acquaintance; and to know, first, that the same wish had entered into his head, and that Roger’s attachment to Cynthia, with its consequences, had been the obstacle; and secondly, that Cynthia herself, with all the opportunities of propinquity which she had lately had, had failed to provoke a repetition of the offer—was, as Mrs. Gibson said, “enough to provoke a saint.” All the rest of the day, she alluded to Cynthia as a disappointing and ungrateful daughter; Molly could not make out why, and resented it for Cynthia, until the latter said, bitterly, “Never mind, Molly. Mamma is only vexed because Mr. —— because I have not come back an engaged young lady.”

“Yes; and I am sure you might have done—there’s the ingratitude! I am not so unjust as to want you to do what you can’t do!” said Mrs. Gibson querulously.

“But where’s the ingratitude, mamma? I’m very much tired, and perhaps that makes me stupid; but I cannot see the ingratitude.” Cynthia spoke very wearily, leaning her head back on the sofa-cushions, as if she did not care to have an answer.

“Why, don’t you see we are doing all we can for you; dressing you well, and sending you to London; and, when you might relieve us of the expense of all this, you don’t.”

“No! Cynthia, I will speak,” said Molly, all crimson with indignation, and pushing away Cynthia’s restraining hand. “I am sure papa does not feel, and does not mind, any expense he incurs about his daughters. And I know quite well that he does not wish us to marry, unless——” She faltered and stopped.

“Unless what?” said Mrs. Gibson, half-mocking.

“Unless we love some one very dearly indeed,” said Molly, in a low, firm tone.

“Well, after this tirade—really rather indelicate, I must say—I have done. I will neither help nor hinder any love-affairs of you two young ladies. In my days, we were glad of the advice of our elders.” And she left the room, to put into fulfilment an idea which had just struck her: to write a confidential letter to Mrs. Kirkpatrick, giving her her version of Cynthia’s “unfortunate entanglement,” and “delicate sense of honour,” and hints of her entire indifference to all the masculine portion of the world, Mr. Henderson being dexterously excluded from the category.

“Oh, dear!” said Molly, throwing herself back in a chair, with a sigh of relief, as Mrs. Gibson left the room; “how cross I do get since I’ve been ill! But I couldn’t bear her to speak as if papa grudged you anything.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t, Molly. You need not defend him on my account. But I’m sorry mamma still looks upon me as ‘an encumbrance,’ as the advertisements in the Times always call us unfortunate children. But I’ve been an encumbrance to her all my life. I’m getting very much into despair about everything, Molly. I shall try my luck in Russia. I’ve heard of a situation as English governess at Moscow, in a family owning whole provinces of land, and serfs by the hundred. I put off writing my letter till I came home; I shall be as much out of the way there as if I was married. Oh, dear! travelling all night isn’t good for the spirits. How’s Mr. Preston?”

“Oh, he has taken Cumnor Grange, three miles away, and he never comes in to the Hollingford tea- parties now. I saw him once in the street, but it’s a question which of us tried the harder to get out of the other’s way.”