The next morning saw Mrs Gibson in a much more contented frame of mind.
She had written and posted her letter, and the next thing was to keep Cynthia in what she called a reasonable state, or, in other words, to try and cajole her into docility.But it was so much labour lost.Cynthia had already received a letter from Mr Henderson before she came down to breakfast, - a declaration of love, a proposal of marriage as clear as words could make it; together with an intimation that, unable to wait for the slow delays of the post, he was going to follow her down to Hollingford, and would arrive at the same time that she had done herself on the previous day.Cynthia said nothing about this letter to any one.She came late into the breakfast-room, after Mr and Mrs Gibson had finished the actual business of the meal; but her unpunctuality was quite accounted for by the fact that she had been travelling all the night before.Molly was not as yet strong enough to get up so early.Cynthia hardly spoke, and did not touch her food.Mr Gibson went about his daily business, and Cynthia and her mother were left alone.'My dear,' said Mrs Gibson, 'you are not eating your breakfast as you should do.I am afraid our meals seem very plain and homely to you after those in Hyde Park Street?' 'No,' said Cynthia; 'I am not hungry, that's all.' 'If we were as rich as your uncle, I should feel it to be both a duty and a pleasure to keep an elegant table; but limited means are a sad clog to one's wishes.I don't suppose that, work as he will, Mr Gibson can earn more than he does at present; while the capabilities of the law are boundless.
Lord Chancellor! Titles as well as fortune!' Cynthia was almost too much absorbed in her own reflections to reply, but she did say, - 'Hundreds of briefless barristers.Take the other side, mamma.' 'Well; but I have noticed that many of these have private fortunes.' 'Perhaps.Mamma, I expect Mr Henderson will come and call this morning.' 'Oh, my precious child! But how do you know? My darling Cynthia, am I to congratulate you?' 'No! I suppose I must tell you.I have had a letter this morning from him, and he is coming down by the "Umpire" to-day.' 'But he has offered? He surely must mean to offer, at any rate?' Cynthia played with her teaspoon before she replied; then she looked up, like one startled from a dream, and caught the echo of her mother's question.'Offered! yes, I suppose he has.' 'And you accept him? Say yes, Cynthia, and make me happy!' 'I shan't say "yes" to make any one happy except myself, and the Russian scheme has great charms for me.' She said this to plague her mother, and lessen Mrs Gibson's exuberance of joy, it must be confessed; for her mind was pretty well made up.But it did not affect Mrs Gibson, who affixed even less truth to it than there really was.The idea of a residence in a new, strange country, among new, strange people, was not without allurement to Cynthia.'You always look nice, dear; but don't you think you had better put on that pretty lilac silk?' 'I shall not vary a thread or a shred from what I have got on now.' 'You dear wilful creature! you know you always look lovely in whatever you put on.' So, kissing her daughter, Mrs Gibson left the room, intent on the lunch which should impress Mr Henderson at once with an idea of family refinement.Cynthia went upstairs to Molly; She was inclined to tell her about Mr Henderson, but she found it impossible to introduce the subject naturally, so she left it to time to reveal the future as gradually as it might.Molly was tired with a bad night; and her father, in his flying visit to his darling before going out, had advised her to stay upstairs for the greater part of the morning, and to keep quiet in her own room till after her early dinner, so Time had not a fair chance of telling her what he had in store in his budget.Mrs Gibson sent an apology to Molly for not paying her her usual morning visit, and told Cynthia to give Mr Henderson's probable coming as a reason for her occupation downstairs.But Cynthia did no such thing.
She kissed Molly, and sate silently by her, holding her hand; till at length she jumped up, and said, 'You shall be left alone now, little one.I want you to be very well and very bright this afternoon: so rest now.' And Cynthia left her, and went to her own room, locked the door, and began to think.Some one was thinking about her at the same time, and it was not Mr Henderson.
Roger had heard from Mr Gibson that Cynthia had come home, and he was resolving to go to her at once, and have one strong, manly attempt to overcome the obstacles, whatever they might be - and of their nature he was not fully aware - that she had conjured up against the continuance of their relation to each other.He left his father - he left them all - and went off into the woods, to be alone until the time came when he might mount his horse and ride over to put his fate to the touch.He was as careful as ever not to interfere with the morning hours that were tabooed to him of old; but waiting was very hard work when he knew that she was so near, and the time so near at hand.Yet he rode slowly, compelling himself to quietness and patience when he was once really on the way to her.'Mrs Gibson at home? Miss Kirkpatrick?' he asked of the servant, Maria, who opened the door.She was confused, but he did not notice it.'I think so; I am not sure! Will you walk up into the drawing-room, sir?
