’No！’saidCynthia。’Notnow。Iambusy。Leavemealone。Idon’twanttohearwhatyouhavegottosay。Idonotwanttoseeyou。By—and—byweshallmeet，andthen——’Mollystoodquitequietly，wonderingwhatnewwordsofmorepersuasionshecoulduse。InaminuteortwoCynthiacalledout，’Areyoutherestill，Molly？’andwhenMollyanswered’Yes，’andhopedforarelenting，thesamehardmetallicvoice，tellingofresolutionandrepression，spokeout，’Goaway。Icannotbearthefeelingofyourbeingthere—waitingandlistening。Godownstairs—outofthehouse—anywhereaway。Itisthemostyoucandoforme，now。’
　　EndofPartFivechapter51ELIZABETHGASKELLWIVESANDDAUGHTERSPARTVI（ChaptersLI—LX）CHAPTERLI’TROUBLESNEVERCOMEALONE’Mollyhadherout—of—doorthingson，andshecreptawayasshewasbidden；
　　sheliftedherheavyweightofheartandbodyalongtillshecametoafield，notsoveryfaroff，—whereshehadsoughtthecomfortoflonelinesseversinceshewasachild；andthere，underthehedge—bank，shesatedown，buryingherfaceinherhands，andquiveringalloverasshethoughtofCynthia’smisery，thatshemightnottrytotouchorassuage。Sheneverknewhowlongshesatethere，butitwaslongpastlunch—timewhenonceagainshestoleuptoherroom。Thedooroppositewasopenwide，—Cynthiahadquittedthechamber。Mollyarrangedherdressandwentdownintothedrawing—room。Cynthiaandhermothersatethereinthesternreposeofanarmedneutrality。Cynthia’sfacelookedmadeofstone，forcolourandrigidity；butshewasnettingawayasifnothingunusualhadoccurred。
　　NotsoMrsGibson：herfaceboreevidentmarksoftears，andshelookedupandgreetedMolly’sentrancewithafaintsmilingnotice。Cynthiawentonasthoughshehadneverheardtheopeningofthedoor，orfelttheapproachingsweepofMolly’sdress。Mollytookupabook，—nottoread，buttohavethesemblanceofsomeemploymentwhichshouldnotnecessitateconversation。Therewasnomeasuringthedurationofthesilencethatensued。Mollygrewtofancyitwassomeoldenchantmentthatweighedupontheirtonguesandkeptthemstill。AtlengthCynthiaspoke，butshehadtobeginagainbeforeherwordscameclear，—’IwishyoubothtoknowthathenceforwardallisatanendbetweenmeandRogerHamley。’Molly’sbookwentdownuponherknees；withopeneyesandlipsshestrovetodrawinCynthia’smeaning。MrsGibsonspokequerulously，asifinjured，—’Icouldhaveunderstoodthisifithadhappenedthreemonthsago，—whenyouwereinLondon；butnowit’sjustnonsense，Cynthia，andyouknowyoudon’tmeanit！’Cynthiadidnotreply；nordidtheresolutelookonherfacechangewhenMollyspokeatlast，—’Cynthia—thinkofhim！Itwillbreakhisheart！’’No！’saidCynthia，’itwillnot。Butevenifitdid，Icannothelpit。’’Allthistalkwillsoonpassaway！’saidMolly；’andwhenheknowsthetruthfromyourownself——’’Frommyownselfheshallneverhearit。Idonotlovehimwellenoughtogothroughtheshameofhavingtoexcusemyself，—topleadthathewillreinstatemeinhisgoodopinion。Confessionmaybe—well！Icanneverbelieveitpleasant—butitmaybeaneaseofmindifonemakesittosomepeople，—tosomeperson，—anditmaynotbeamortificationtosueforforgiveness。Icannottell。AllIknowis，—andIknowitclearly，andwillactuponitinflexibly—that——’Andthereshestoppedshort。’Ithinkyoumightfinishyoursentence，’saidhermother，afterasilenceoffiveseconds。’IcannotbeartoexculpatemyselftoRogerHamley。Iwillnotsubmittohisthinkinglesswellofmethanhehasdone，—howeverfoolishhisjudgmentmayhavebeen。Iwouldratherneverseehimagain，forthesetworeasons。
　　Andthetruthis，Idonotlovehim。Ilikehim，Irespecthim；butIwillnotmarryhim。Ihavewrittentotellhimso。Thatwasmerelyasarelieftomyself，forwhenorwheretheletterwillreachhim——AndIhavewrittentooldMrHamley。Thereliefistheonegoodthingcomeoutofitall。
　　Itissuchacomforttofeelfreeagain。Itweariedmesotothinkofstraininguptohisgoodness。"Extenuatemyconduct！"’sheconcluded，quotingMrGibson’swords。YetwhenMrGibsoncamehome，afterasilentdinner，sheaskedtospeakwithhim，alone，inhisconsulting—room；andtherelaidbaretheexculpationofherselfwhichshehadgiventoMollymanyweeksbefore。Whenshehadended，shesaid，—’Andnow，MrGibson，—Istilltreatyoulikeafriend，—helpmetofindsomehomefaraway，wherealltheeviltalkingandgossipmammatellsmeofcannotfindmeandfollowme。Itmaybewrongtocareforpeople’sgoodopinion，—butitisme，andIcannotaltermyself。You，Molly，—allthepeopleinthetown，—Ihavenotthepatiencetolivethroughtheninedays’wonder。Iwanttogoawayandbeagoverness。’’But，mydearCynthia，—howsoonRogerwillbeback，—atowerofstrength。’’HasnotmammatoldyouIhavebrokenitalloffwithRoger？Iwrotethismorning。Iwrotetohisfather。Thatletterwillreachto—morrow。IwrotetoRoger。IfheeverreceivesthatletterIhopetobefarawaybythattime；inRussiamaybe。’’Nonsense。Anengagementlikeyourscannotbebrokenoff，exceptbymutualconsent。Youhaveonlygivenothersagreatdealofpain，withoutfreeingyourself。Norwillyouwishitinamonth’stime。WhenyoucometothinkcalmlyyouwillbegladtothinkofthestayandsupportofsuchahusbandasRoger。Youhavebeeninfault，andhaveactedfoolishlyatfirst，—
　　perhapswronglyafterwards；butyoudon’twantyourhusbandtothinkyoufaultless？’’Yes，Ido，’saidCynthia。’Atanyrate，mylovermustthinkmeso。AnditisjustbecauseIdonotlovehimevenassolightathingasIcouldlove，thatIfeelthatIcouldnotbeartohavetotellhimI’msorry，andstandbeforehimlikeachiddenchildtobeadmonishedandforgiven。’’Buthereyouare，justinsuchapositionbeforeme，Cynthia！’’Yes！butIloveyoubetterthanRoger；IhaveoftentoldMollyso。AndIwouldhavetoldyou，ifIhadnotexpectedandhopedtoleaveyouallbeforelong。Icouldseeiftherecollectionofitallcameupbeforeyourmind；Icouldseeitinyoureyes；Ishouldknowitbyinstinct。Ihaveafineinstinctforreadingthethoughtsofotherswhentheyrefertome。
　　IalmosthatetheideaofRogerjudgingmebyhisownstandard，whichwasnotmadeforme，andgraciouslyforgivingmeatlast。’’ThenIdobelieveitisrightforyoutobreakitoff，’saidMrGibson，almostasifhewasthinkingtohimself。’Thatpoorlad！Butitwillbebestforhimtoo。Andhe’llgetoverit。Hehasagoodstrongheart。PooroldRoger！’ForamomentCynthia’swilfulfancystretchedaftertheobjectpassingoutofhergrasp，—Roger’slovebecamefortheinstantatreasure；but，again，sheknewthatinitsentiretyofhighundoubtingesteem，aswellasofpassionateregard，itwouldnolongerbehers；andfortheflawwhichsheherselfhadmade，shecastitaway，andwouldnoneofit。Yetofteninafteryears，whenitwastoolate，shewondered，andstrovetopenetratetheinscrutablemysteryof’whatwouldhavebeen。’’Stilltaketillto—morrowbeforeyouactuponyourdecision，’saidMrGibson，slowly。’Whatfaultsyouhavefallenintohavebeenmeregirlishfaultsatfirst，—leadingyouintomuchdeceit，Igrant。’’Don’tgiveyourselfthetroubletodefinetheshadesofblackness，’saidCynthia，bitterly。’IamnotsoobtusebutwhatIknowthemallbetterthananyonecantellme。AndasformydecisionIacteduponitatonce。
　　ItmaybelongbeforeRogergetsmyletter，—butIhopeheissuretogetitatlast，—and，asIsaid，Ihavelethisfatherknow；itwon’thurthim！Oh，sir，IthinkifIhadbeendifferentlybroughtupIshouldnothavehadthesoreangryheartIhave。Now！No，don’t！Idon’twantreasoningcomfort。Ican’tstandit。Ishouldalwayshavewantedadmirationandworship，andmen’sgoodopinion。Thoseunkindgossips！TovisitMollywiththeirhardwords！Oh，dear！Ithinklifeisverydreary。’Sheputherheaddownonherhands；tiredoutmentallyaswellasbodily。
　　SoMrGibsonthought。Hefeltasifmuchspeechfromhimwouldonlyaddtoherexcitement，andmakeherworse。Helefttheroom，andcalledMolly，fromwhereshewassitting，dolefully。’GotoCynthia！’hewhispered，andMollywent。ShetookCynthiaintoherarmswithgentlepower，andlaidherheadagainstherownbreast，asiftheonehadbeenamother，andtheotherachild。’Oh，mydarling！’shemurmured。’Idosoloveyou，dear，dearCynthia！’
　　andshestrokedherhair，andkissedhereyelids；Cynthiapassiveallthewhile，tillsuddenlyshestartedupstungwithanewidea，andlookingMollystraightintheface，shesaid，—’Molly，Rogerwillmarryyou！Seeifitisnotso！Youtwogood——’ButMollypushedherawaywithasuddenviolenceofrepulsion。’Don’t！’
　　shesaid。Shewascrimsonwithshameandindignation。’Yourhusbandthismorning！Mineto—night！Whatdoyoutakehimfor？’’Aman！’smiledCynthia。’Andtherefore，ifyouwon’tletmecallhimchangeable，I’llcoinawordandcallhimconsolable！’ButMollygaveherbacknoansweringsmile。Atthismoment，theservantMariaenteredtheconsulting—room，wherethetwogirlswere。Shehadascaredlook。’Isnotmasterhere？’askedshe，asifshedistrustedhereyes。’No！’saidCynthia。’Iheardhimgoout。Iheardhimshutthefrontdoornotfiveminutesago。’’Oh，dear！’saidMaria。’Andthere’samancomeonhorsebackfromHamleyHall，andhesaysMrOsborneisdead，andthatmastermustgoofftothesquirestraightaway！’’OsborneHamleydead？’saidCynthia，inawedsurprise。Mollywasoutatthefrontdoor，seekingthemessengerthroughthedusk，roundintothestable—yard，wherethegroomsatemotionlessonhisdarkhorse，fleckedwithfoam，madevisiblebythelanternplacedonthestepsnear，whereithadbeenleftbytheservants，whoweredismayedatthisnewsofthehandsomeyoungmanwhohadfrequentedtheirmaster’shouse，sofullofsportiveeleganceandwinsomeness。Mollywentuptotheman，whosethoughtswerelostinrecollectionofthescenehehadleftattheplacehehadcomefrom。Shelaidherhandonthehotdampskinofthehorse’sshoulder；themanstarted。’Isthedoctorcoming，Miss？’Forhesawwhoitwasbythedimlight。’Heisdead，ishenot？’askedMolly，inalowvoice。’I’mafeardheis，—leastwaysthereisnodoubtaccordingtowhattheysaid。ButIhaveriddenhard！theremaybeachance。Isthedoctorcoming，Miss？’’Heisgoneout。Theyareseekinghim，Ibelieve。Iwillgomyself。Oh！
　　thepooroldsquire。’Shewentintothekitchen—wentoverthehousewithswiftrapiditytogainnewsofherfather’swhereabouts。Theservantsknewnomorethanshedid。NeithershenortheyhadheardwhatCynthia，everquickofperception，haddone。Theshuttingofthefrontdoorhadfallenondeafcars，asfarasotherswereconcerned。UpstairsspedMollytothedrawing—room，whereMrsGibsonstoodatthedoor，listeningtotheunusualstirinthehouse。’Whatisit，Molly？Why，howwhiteyoulook，child！’’Where’spapa？’’Goneout。What’sthematter？’’Where？’’HowshouldIknow？Iwasasleep；Jennycameupstairsonherwaytothebedrooms；she’sagirlwhoneverkeepstoherwork，andMariatakesadvantageofher。’’Jenny，Jenny！’criedMolly，franticatthedelay。’Don’tshout，dear，—ringthebell。Whatcanbethematter？’’Oh，Jenny！’saidMolly，halfwayupthestairstomeether，’whowantedpapa？’Cynthiacametojointhegroup；shetoohadbeenlookingfortracesortidingsofMrGibson。’Whatisthematter？’saidMrsGibson。’Cannobodyspeakandansweraquestion？’’OsborneHamleyisdead！’saidCynthia，gravely。’Dead！Osborne！Poorfellow！Iknewitwouldbeso，though，—Iwassureofit。ButMrGibsoncandonothingifhe’sdead。Pooryoungman！IwonderwhereRogerisnow？Heoughttocomehome。’Jennybadbeenblamedforcomingintothedrawing—roominsteadofMaria，whoseplaceitwas，andsohadlostthefewwitsshehad。ToMolly’shurriedquestionsherreplieshadbeenentirelyunsatisfactory。Amanhadcometothebackdoor—shecouldnotseewhoitwas—shehadnotaskedhisname：hewantedtospeaktomaster，—masterhadseemedinahurry，andonlystoppedtogethishat。’Hewillnotbelongaway，’thoughtMolly，’orhewouldhaveleftwordwherehewasgoing。Butoh！thepoorfatherallalone。’Andthenathoughtcameintoherhead，whichsheacteduponstraight。’GotoJames，tellhimtoputtheside—saddleIhadinNovemberonNoraCreina。Don’tcry，Jenny。
　　There’snotimeforthat。Nooneisangrywithyou。Run！’SodownintotheclusterofcollectedwomenMollycame，equippedinherjacketandskirt；quickdeterminationinhereyes；controlledquiveringaboutthecornersofhermouth。’Why，whatintheworld，’saidMrsGibson，—’Molly，whatareyouthinkingabout？’ButCynthiahadunderstooditataglance，andwasarrangingMolly’shastilyassumeddress，asshepassedalong。’Iamgoing。Imustgo。Icannotbeartothinkofhimalone。WhenpapacomesbackheissuretogotoHamley，andifIamnotwanted，Icancomebackwithhim。’SheheardMrsGibson’svoicefollowingherinremonstrance，butshedidnotstayforwords。Shehadtowaitinthestable—yard，andshewonderedhowthemessengercouldbeartoeatanddrinkthefoodandbeerbroughtouttohimbytheservants。Hercomingouthadevidentlyinterruptedtheeagertalk，—thequestionsandanswerspassingsharptoandfro；butshecaughtthewords，’allamongstthetangledgrass，’and’thesquirewouldletnoneonustouchhim：hetookhimupasifhewasababy；hehadtorestmanyatime，andoncehesatehimdownontheground；butstillhekepthiminhisarms；butwethoughtweshouldne’erhavegottenhimupagain—himandthebody。’’Thebody！’MollyhadneverfeltthatOsbornewasreallydeadtillsheheardthosewords。Theyrodequickundertheshadowsofthebuddinghedgerowtrees，butwhentheyslackenedspeed，togoupabrow，ortogivetheirhorsesbreath，Mollyheardthosetwolittlewordsagaininhercars；andsaidthemoveragaintoherself，inhopesofforcingthesharptruthintoherunwillingsense。Butwhentheycameinsightofthesquarestillnessofthehouse，shininginthemoonlight—themoonhadrisenbythistime—
　　Mollycaughtatherbreath，andforaninstantshethoughtshenevercouldgoin，andfacethepresenceinthatdwelling。Oneyellowlightburntsteadily，spottingthesilvershiningwithitsearthlycoarseness。Themanpointeditout：itwasalmostthefirstwordhehadspokensincetheyhadleftHollingford。’It’stheoldnursery。Theycarriedhimthere。Thesquirebrokedownatthestair—foot，andtheytookhimtothereadiestplace。I’llbeboundforitthesquireistherehisself，andoldRobintoo。Theyfetchedhim，asaknowledgablemanamongdumbbeasts，tillth’regulardoctorcame。’Mollydroppeddownfromherseatbeforethemancoulddismounttohelpher。Shegatheredupherskirtsanddidnotstayagaintothinkofwhatwasbeforeher。Sheranalongtheoncefamiliarturns，andswiftlyupthestairs，andthroughthedoors，tillshecametothelast；thenshestoppedandlistened。Itwasadeathlysilence。Sheopenedthedoor：thesquirewassittingaloneatthesideofthebed，holdingthedeadman’shand，andlookingstraightbeforehimatvacancy。Hedidnotstirormove，evensomuchasaneyelid，atMolly’sentrance。Thetruthhadenteredhissoulbeforethis，andheknewthatnodoctor，beheeversocunning，could，withallhisstriving，putthebreathintothatbodyagain。Mollycameuptohimwiththesofteststeps，themosthushedbreaththatevershecould。Shedidnotspeak，forshedidnotknowwhattosay。Shefeltthathehadnomorehopefromearthlyskill，sowhatwastheuseofspeakingofherfatherandthedelayinhiscoming？Afteramoment’spause，standingbytheoldman’sside，sheslippeddowntothefloor，andsateathisfeet。
　　Possiblyherpresencemighthavesomebalminit；bututteringofwordswasasavainthing。Hemusthavebeenawareofherbeingthere，buthetooknoapparentnotice。Theretheysate，silentandstill，heinhischair，sheonthefloor；thedeadman，beneaththesheet，forathird。Shefanciedthatshemusthavedisturbedthefatherinhiscontemplationofthequietface，nowmorethanhalf，butnotfully，coveredupoutofsight。Timehadneverseemedsowithoutmeasure，silencehadneverseemedsonoiselessasitdidtoMolly，sittingthere。Intheacutenessofhersensessheheardastepmountingadistantstaircase，comingslowly，comingnearer。Sheknewitnottobeherfather’s，andthatwasallshecaredabout。Nearerandnearer—closetotheoutsideofthedoor—apause，andasofthesitatingtap。Thegreatgauntfiguresittingbyhersidequiveredatthesound。
　　Mollyroseandwenttothedoor：itwasRobinson，theoldbutler，holdinginhishandacoveredbasinofsoup。’Godblessyou，Miss，’saidhe；’makehimtouchadropo’this：he’sgonesincebreakfastwithoutfood，andit’spastoneinthemorningnow。’Hesoftlyremovedthecover，andMollytookthebasinbackwithhertoherplaceatthesquire’sside。Shedidnotspeak，forshedidnotwellknowwhattosay，orhowtopresentthishomelywantofnaturebeforeonesoraptingrief。Butsheputaspoonfultohislips，andtouchedthemwiththesavouryfood，asifhehadbeenasickchild，andshethenurse；
　　andinstinctivelyhetookdownthefirstspoonfulofthesoup。Butinaminutehesaid，withasortofcry，andalmostoverturningthebasinMollyheld，byhispassionategestureashepointedtothebed，—’Hewillnevereatagain—never。’Thenhethrewhimselfacrossthecorpse，andweptinsuchaterriblemannerthatMollytrembledlesthealsoshoulddie—shouldbreakhisheartthereandthen。Hetooknomorenoticeofherwords，ofhertears，ofherpresence，thanhedidofthatofthemoon，lookingthroughtheunclosedwindow，withpassionlessstare，Herfatherstoodbythemboth。beforeeitherofthemwasaware。’Godownstairs，Molly，’saidhegravely；buthestrokedherheadtenderlyassherose。’Gointothedining—room。’Nowshefeltthereactionfromallherself—control。Shetrembledwithfearasshewentalongthemoonlitpassages。ItseemedtoherasifsheshouldmeetOsborne，andhearitallexplained；howhecametodie，—whathenowfeltandthoughtandwishedhertodo。Shedidgetdowntothedining—room，—thelastfewstepswitharushofterror，—senselessterrorofwhatmightbebehindher；andthereshefoundsupperlaidout，andcandleslit，andRobinsonbustlingaboutdecantingsomewine。Shewantedtocry；togetintosomequietplace，andweepawayherover—excitement；butshecouldhardlydosothere。Sheonlyfeltverymuchtired，andtocarefornothinginthisworldanymore。ButvividnessoflifecamebackwhenshefoundRobinsonholdingaglasstoherlipsasshesateinthegreatleathereasy—chair，towhichshehadgoneinstinctivelyastoaplaceofrest。’Drink，Miss。It’sgoodoldMadeira。Yourpapasaidashowyouwastoeatabit。Sayshe，"Mydaughtermayhavetostayhere，MrRobinson，andshe’syoungforthework。Persuadehertoeatsomething，orshe’llbreakdownutterly。"Thosewashisverywords。’Mollydidnotsayanything。Shehadnotenergyenoughforresistance。Shedrankandsheateattheoldservant’sbidding；andthensheaskedhimtoleaveheralone，andwentbacktohereasy—chairandletherselfcry，andsoeaseherheart。
　　chapter52CHAPTERLIISQUIREHAMLEY’SSORROWItseemedverylongbeforeMrGibsoncamedown。Hewentandstoodwithhisbacktotheemptyfireplace，anddidnotspeakforaminuteortwo。’He’sgonetobed，’saidheatlength。’RobinsonandIhavegothimthere。
　　ButjustasIwasleavinghimhecalledmeback，andaskedmetoletyoustop。I’msureIdon’tknow—butonedoesn’tliketorefuseatsuchatime。’’Iwishtostay，’saidMolly。’Doyou？There’sagoodgirl。Buthowwillyoumanage？’’Oh，nevermindthat。Icanmanage。Papa，’—shepaused—whatdidOsbornedieof？’Sheaskedthequestioninalow，awe—strickenvoice。’Somethingwrongabouttheheart。Youwouldn’tunderstandifItoldyou。
　　Iapprehendeditforsometime；butitis，betternottotalkofsuchthingsathome。WhenIsawhimonThursdayweek，heseemedbetterthanIhaveseenhimforalongtime。ItoldDrNichollsso。Butonenevercancalculateinthesecomplaints。’’YousawhimonThursdayweek？Why，younevermentionedit！’saidMolly。’No。Idon’ttalkofmypatientsathome，Besides，Ididn’twanthimtoconsidermeashisdoctor，but。asafriend。Anyalarmabouthisownhealthwouldonlyhavehastenedthecatastrophe。’’Thendidn’theknowthathewasill—illofadangerouscomplaint，I
　　mean：onethatmightendasithasdone？’’No；certainlynot。Hewouldonlyhavebeenwatchinghissymptoms—acceleratingmatters，infact。’’Oh，papa！’saidMolly，shocked。’I’venotimetogointothequestion，’MrGibsoncontinued。’Anduntilyouknowwhathastobesaidonbothsides，andineveryinstance，youarenotqualifiedtojudge。Wemustkeepourattentiononthedutiesinhandnow。Yousleepherefortheremainderofthenight，whichismorethanhalf—gonealready？’’Yes。’’Promisemetogotobedjustasusual。Youmaynotthinkit，butmostlikelyyou’llgotosleepatonce。Peopledoatyourage。’’Papa，IthinkIoughttotellyousomething。IknowagreatsecretofOsborne’s，whichIpromisedsolemnlynottotell；butthelasttimeIsawhimIthinkhemusthavebeenafraidofsomethinglikethis。’Afitofsobbingcameuponher，whichherfatherwasafraidwouldendinhysterics。
　　Butsuddenlyshemasteredherself，andlookedupintohisanxiousface，andsmiledtoreassurehim。’Icouldnothelpit，papa！’’No。Iknow。Goonwithwhatyouweresaying。Yououghttobeinbed；butifyouhaveasecretonyourmindyouwon’tsleep。’’Osbornewasmarried，’saidshe，fixinghereyesonherfather。’Thatisthesecret。’’Married！Nonsense。Whatmakesyouthinkso？’’Hetoldme。That’stosay，Iwasinthelibrary—wasreadingthere，sometimeago；andRogercameandspoketoOsborneabouthiswife。Rogerdidnotseeme，butOsbornedid。Theymademepromisesecrecy。Idon’tthinkIdidwrong。’’Don’tworryyourselfaboutrightorwrongjustnow；tellmemoreaboutit，atonce。’’Iknewnomoretillsixmonthsago—lastNovember，whenyouwentuptoLadyCumnor。Thenhecalled，andgavemehiswife’saddress，butstillunderpromiseofsecrecy；and，exceptingthosetwotimes，Ihaveneverheardanyonementionthesubject。Ithinkhewouldhavetoldmemorethatlasttime，onlyMissPhoebecamein。’’Whereisthiswifeofhis？’’Downinthesouth；nearWinchester，Ithink。HesaidshewasaFrenchwomanandaRomanCatholic；andIthinkhesaidshewasaservant，’addedMolly。’Phew！’Herfathermadealongwhistleofdismay。’And，’continuedMolly，’hespokeofachild。NowyouknowasmuchasI
　　do，papa，excepttheaddress。Ihaveitwrittendownsafeathome。’Forgetting，apparently，whattimeofnightitwas，MrGibsonsatedown，stretchedouthislegsbeforehim，puthishandsinhispockets，andbegantothink。Mollysatestillwithoutspeaking，tootiredtodomorethanwait。’Well！’saidheatlast，jumpingup，’nothingcanbedoneto—night；byto—morrowmorning，perhaps，Imayfindout。Poorlittlepaleface！’—takingitbetweenbothhishandsandkissingit；’poor，sweet，littlepaleface！’
　　Thenherangthebell，andtoldRobinsontosendsomemaid—servanttotakeMissGibsontoherroom。’Hewon’tbeupearly，’saidhe，inparting。’Theshockhasloweredhimtoomuchtobeenergetic。Sendbreakfastuptohiminhisownroom。I’llbehereagainbeforeten。’Lateasitwasbeforeheleft，hekepthisword。’Now，Molly，’hesaid，’youandImusttellhimthetruthbetweenus。I
　　don’tknowhowhewilltakeit；itmaycomforthim，butIhaveverylittlehope：eitherway，heoughttoknowitatonce。’’Robinsonsayshehasgoneintotheroomagain，andheisafraidhehaslockedthedoorontheinside。’’Nevermind。Ishallringthebell，andsendupRobinsontosaythatI
　　amhere，andwishtospeaktohim。’Themessagereturnedwas，’Thesquire’skindlove，andcouldnotseeMrGibsonjustthen。’Robinsonadded，’Itwasalongtimebeforehe’dansweratall，sir。’’Goupagain，andtellhimIcanwaithisconvenience。Nowthat’salie，’
　　MrGibsonsaid，turningroundtoMollyassoonasRobinsonhadlefttheroom。’Ioughttobefarenoughawayattwelve；but，ifI’mnotmuchmistaken，theinnatehabitsofagentlemanwillmakehimuneasyattheideaofkeepingmewaitinghispleasure，andwilldomoretobringhimoutofthatroomintothisthananyentreatiesorreasoning。’MrGibsonwasgrowingimpatientthough，beforetheyheardthesquire’sfootsteponthestairs；hewasevidentlycomingslowlyandunwillingly。Hecameinalmostlikeoneblind，gropingalong，andtakingholdofchairortableforsupportorguidancetillhereachedMrGibson。Hedidnotspeakwhenheheldthedoctorbythehand；
　　heonlyhungdownhishead，andkeptonafeebleshakingofwelcome。’I’mbroughtverylow，sir。Isupposeit’sGod’sdoing；butitcomesharduponme。Hewasmyfirstbornchild。’Hesaidthisalmostasifspeakingtoastranger，andinforminghimoffactsofwhichhewasignorant。’Here’sMolly，’saidMrGibson，chokingalittlehimself，andpushingherforwards。’Ibegyourpardon；Ididnotseeyouatfirst。Mymindisagooddealoccupiedjustnow。’Hesateheavilydown，andthenseemedalmosttoforgettheywerethere。Mollywonderedwhatwastocomenext。Suddenlyherfatherspoke，—’Where’sRoger？’saidhe。’IshenotlikelytobesoonattheCape？’Hegotupandlookedatthedirectionsofoneortwounopenedlettersbroughtbythatmorning’spost；amongthemwasoneinCynthia’shandwriting。BothMollyandhesawitatthesametime。Howlongitwassinceyesterday！
　　Butthesquiretooknonoticeoftheirproceedingsortheirlooks。’YouwillbegladtohaveRogerathomeassoonasmaybe，Ithink，sir。
　　Somemonthsmustelapsefirst；butI’msurehewillreturnasspeedilyaspossible。’Thesquiresaidsomethinginaverylowvoice。Bothfatheranddaughterstrainedtheirearstohearwhatitwas。Theybothbelievedittobe，’RogerisnotOsborne！’AndMrGibsonspokeonthatbelief。HespokemorequietlythanMollyhadeverheardhimdobefore。’No！weknowthat。IwishthatanythingthatRogercoulddo，orthatI
　　coulddo，orthatanyonecoulddo，wouldcomfortyou；butitispasthumancomfort。’’Idotrytosay，God’swillbedone，sir，’saidthesquire，lookingupatMrGibsonforthefirsttime，andspeakingwithmorelifeinhisvoice；
　　’butitishardertoberesignedthanhappypeoplethink。’Theywereallsilentforawhile。Thesquirehimselfwasthefirsttospeakagain，—
　　’Hewasmyfirstchild，sir；myeldestson。Andoflateyearsweweren’t’
　　—hisvoicebrokedown，buthecontrolledhimself—’weweren’tquiteasgoodfriendsascouldbewished；andI’mnotsure—notsurethatheknewhowIlovedhim。’Andnowhecriedaloudwithanexceedingbittercry。’Betterso！’whisperedMrGibsontoMolly。’Whenheisalittlecalmer，don’tbeafraid；tellhimallyouknow，exactlyasithappened。’