'Why, who told you?' said Mrs Goodenough, turning round upon her in surprise.'You can't say as I did.There's many a Molly in Hollingford, besides her, - though none, perhaps, in such a genteel station in life.
I never named her, I'm sure.'
'No! But I know.I could tell my tale too,' continued Mrs Dawes.
'No! could you, really?' said Mrs Goodenough, very curious and a little jealous.
'Yes.My uncle Sheepshanks came upon them in the Park Avenue, - he startled 'em a good deal, he said; and when he taxed Mr Preston with being with his sweetheart, he didn't deny it.'
'Well! Now so much has come out, I'll tell you what I know.Only, ladies, I wouldn't wish to do the girl an unkind turn, - so you must keep what I've got to tell you a secret.' Of course they promised; that was easy.
'My Hannah, as married Tom Oakes, and lives in Pearson's Lane, was a-gathering of damsons only about a week ago, and Molly Gibson was a-walking fast down the lane, - quite in a hurry like to meet some one, - and Hannah's little Anna-Maria fell down, and Molly (who's a kind-hearted lass enough) picked her up; so if Hannah had had her doubts before, she had none then.'
'But there was no one with her, was there?' asked one of the ladies anxiously, as Mrs Goodenough stopped to finish her piece of cake, just at this crisis.
'No: I said she looked as if she was going to meet some one, - and by-and-by comes Mr Preston running out of the wood just beyond Hannah's, and says he, "A cup of water, please, good woman, for a lady has fainted, or is 'sterical or something." Now though he didn't know Hannah, Hannah knew him."More folks know Tom Fool, than Tom Fool knows," asking Mr Preston's pardon; for he's no fool whatever he be.And I could tell you more, - and what I've seed with my own eyes.I seed her give him a letter in Grinstead's shop, only yesterday, and he looked as black as thunder at her, for he seed me if she didn't.'
'It's a very suitable kind of thing,' said Miss Airy; 'why do they make such a mystery of it?'
'Some folks like it,' said Mrs Dawes; 'it adds zest to it all, to do their courting underhand.'
'Ay, it's like salt to their victual,' put in Mrs Goodenough.But Ididn't think Molly Gibson was one of that sort, I didn't.'
'The Gibsons hold themselves very high?' cried Mrs Dawes, more as an inquiry than an assertion.'Mrs Gibson has called upon me.'
'Ay, you're like to be a patient of the doctor's,' put in Mrs Goodenough.
'She seemed to me very affable, though she is so intimate with the Countess and the family at the Towers; and is quite the lady herself; dines late, I've heard, and everything in style.'
'Style! very different style to what Bob Gibson, her husband, was used to when first he came here, - glad of a mutton-chop in his surgery, for I doubt if he'd a fire anywhere else; we called him Bob Gibson then, but none on us dare Bob him now; I'd as soon think o' calling him sweep!'
'I think it looks very bad for Miss Gibson!' said one lady, rather anxious to bring back the conversation to the more interesting present time.But as soon as Mrs Goodenough heard this natural comment on the disclosures she had made, she fired round on the speaker.
'Not at all bad, and I'll trouble you not to use such a word as that about Molly Gibson, as I've known all her life.It's odd, if you will.
I was odd myself as a girl; I never could abide a plate of gathered gooseberries, but I must needs go and skulk behind a bush and gather 'em for myself.
It's some folk's taste, though it mayn't be Miss Browning's, who'd have all the courting done under the nose of the family.All as ever I said was that I was surprised at it in Molly Gibson; and that I'd ha' thought it was liker that pretty minx of a Cynthia as they call her; indeed at one time I was ready to swear as it was her Mr Preston was after.And now, ladies, I'll wish you a very good night.I cannot abide waste; and I'll venture for it Sally's letting the candle in the lantern run all to grease, instead of putting it out, as I've told her to do, if ever she's got to wait for me.'
So with formal dipping curtseys the ladies separated, but not without thanking Mrs Dawes for the pleasant evening they had had; a piece of old-fashioned courtesy always gone through in those days.
