RIVALRY.
For some days after the Cynthia languid, and was very silent. Molly, who had promised herself as much in talking over the past with Cynthia as in the itself, was when she that all on the was than encouraged. Mrs. Gibson, it is true, was to go over the ground as many times as any one liked; but her were always like ready-made clothes, and thoughts. Anybody might have used them, and, with a of proper names, they might have to any ball. She used the same language in speaking about it, till Molly the and their to irritation.
"Ah! Mr. Osborne, you should have been there! I said to myself many a time how you should have been there—you and your brother, of course."
"I of you very often the evening!"
"Did you? Now that I call very of you. Cynthia, darling! Do you what Mr. Osborne Hamley was saying?" as Cynthia came into the room just then. "He of us all on the of the ball."
"He did than us then," said Cynthia, with her soft slow smile. "We him thanks for those flowers, mamma."
"Oh!" said Osborne, "you must not thank me exclusively. I it was my thought, but Roger took all the trouble of it."
"I the as everything," said Mrs. Gibson. "Thought is spiritual, while action is material."
This took the herself by surprise; and in such as was then going on, it is not necessary to the meaning of that is said.
"I'm the flowers were too late to be of much use, though," Osborne. "I met Preston the next morning, and of we talked about the ball. I was sorry to he had been with us."
"He only sent one nosegay, and that was for Cynthia," said Molly, looking up from her work. "And it did not come till after we had the flowers from Hamley." Molly a of Cynthia's she again to her sewing. It was in colour, and there was a of anger in her eyes. Both she and her mother to speak as soon as Molly had finished, but Cynthia's voice was with passion, and Mrs. Gibson had the word.
"Mr. Preston's was just one of those any one can at a nursery-garden, which always me as having no in them. I would have two or three of the for me by a person I like, than the most that be bought!"
"Mr. Preston had no to speak as if he had you," said Cynthia. "It came just as we were to go, and I put it into the fire directly."
"Cynthia, my dear love!" said Mrs. Gibson (who had of the of the flowers until now), "what an idea of you will give to Mr. Osborne Hamley; but, to be sure, I can it. You my feeling—my prejudice—sentimental I grant, against flowers."
Cynthia was for a moment; then she said, "I used some of your flowers, Mr. Hamley, to dress Molly's hair. It was a great temptation, for the colour so matched her ornaments; but I she it to the arrangement, so I ought to take all the on myself."
"The was my brother's, as I told you; but I am sure he would have them in Miss Gibson's than in the fire. Mr. Preston comes the off." Osborne was at the whole affair, and would have liked to Cynthia's a little farther. He did not Molly saying in as soft a voice as if she were talking to herself, "I mine just as they were sent," for Mrs. Gibson came in with a total of subject.
"Speaking of of the valley, is it true that they wild in Hurst Wood? It is not the season for them to be in flower yet; but when it is, I think we must take a walk there—with our in a basket—a little in fact. You'll join us, won't you?" to Osborne. "I think it's a plan! You to Hollingford and put up your here, and we have a long day in the and all come home to dinner—dinner with a of in the middle of the table!"
"I should like it very much," said Osborne; "but I may not be at home. Roger is more likely to be here, I believe, at that time—a month hence." He was of the visit to London to sell his poems, and the to Winchester which he afterwards—the end of May had been the period for this for some time, not in his own mind, but in to his wife.
"Oh, but you must be with us! We must wait for Mr. Osborne Hamley, must not we, Cynthia?"
"I'm the won't wait," Cynthia.
"Well, then, we must put it off till dog-rose and honey-suckle time. You will be at home then, won't you? or the London season present too many attractions?"
"I don't know when dog-roses are in flower!"
"Not know, and you a poet? Don't you the lines—
It was the time of roses,
We them as we passed?"
"Yes; but that doesn't the time of year that is the time of roses; and I my movements are more by the than the floral. You had take my for your companion; he is practical in his love of flowers, I am only theoretical."
"Does that word 'theoretical' that you are ignorant?" asked Cynthia.
"Of we shall be happy to see your brother; but why can't we have you too? I to a little in the presence of one so and learned as your is from all accounts. Give me a little ignorance, if we must call it by that hard word."
Osborne bowed. It was very to him to be and flattered, though he all the time that it was only flattery. It was an to the home that was so to him, to come to this house, where the of two girls, and the of their mother's speeches, him he liked to come. To say nothing of the that upon his senses, though he might himself, of a sitting-room full of flowers, and of women's presence, where all the chairs were easy, and all the tables well with things, to the great drawing-room at home, where the were threadbare, and the seats uncomfortable, and no of presence now a to the of the furniture. Then the meals, light and well-cooked, his taste and so much than the rich and prepared by the at the Hall. Osborne was a little of into the of paying too visits to the Gibsons (and that, not he the of his with the two ladies; for he of them as friends;—the of his marriage was present to his mind, and Aimée too in his heart, for him to that he might be looked upon by others in the light of a possible husband); but the itself upon him occasionally, he was not too often on which he had at present no means of returning.
But Mrs. Gibson, in her of the true of affairs, was in the which him come so often and away the hours in her house and garden. She had no that it was Cynthia who him thither; and if the had been a little more to reason, her mother would have more than she did to the which she was approaching. But she was by the that if her of what was impending, and was aware of Mrs. Gibson's and to the catastrophe, the girl would oppose herself to it with all her skill and power. As it was, Mrs. Gibson that Cynthia's would she where she was, and that in that case she would not attempt to her mother's scheming, though she did it. But Cynthia had come across too many of flirtation, admiration, and love, to be for a moment at fault as to the nature of Osborne's attentions. She him always as a sister might a brother. It was different when Roger returned from his election as Fellow of Trinity. The diffidence, the of his manner, Cynthia long with what of love she had now to deal. She did not put it into so many words—no, not in her heart—but she the Roger's relation to her and Osborne's long Mrs. Gibson it out. Molly was, however, the to the nature of Roger's attention. The time they saw him after the ball, it came out to her eyes. Cynthia had not been looking well since that evening; she slowly about the house, and heavy-eyed; and, as she was of and the free fresh air, there was any her now to go out for a walk. Molly this with anxiety, but to all her questions as to she had over-fatigued with her dancing, anything had to her, and all such inquiries, she in negatives. Once Molly touched on Mr. Preston's name, and that this was a on which Cynthia was raw; now, Cynthia's up with spirit, and her whole her ill-repressed agitation, but she only said a words, of anything but the gentleman, and then Molly name his name to her again. Still, the not that he was more than to her friend, as well as to herself; he not be the of Cynthia's present indisposition. But this so many days without or modification, that Mrs. Gibson noticed it, and Molly positively uneasy. Mrs. Gibson Cynthia's and as the natural of "dancing with who asked her" at the ball. Partners names were in the "Red Book" would not have produced the amount of fatigue, according to Mrs. Gibson's apparently, and if Cynthia had been well, very she would have the in her mother's speech with one of her touches of sarcasm. Then, again, when Cynthia did not rally, Mrs. Gibson impatient, and her of being and lazy; at length, and at Molly's instance, there came an to Mr. Gibson, and a professional of the invalid, which Cynthia more than anything, when the was, that there was nothing very much the matter, only a of tone, and of health and spirits, which would soon be by tonics, and meanwhile, she was not to be to exertion.
"If there is one thing I dislike," said Cynthia to Mr. Gibson, after he had to be the for her present state, "it is the way doctors have of of as a for and cares." She laughed up in his as she spoke; she had always a word and for him, in the of her of spirits.
"Come! you you have 'sorrows' by that speech: we'll make a bargain: if you'll tell me your and cares, I'll try and some other for them than you what you are pleased to term my mixtures."
"No," said Cynthia, colouring; "I said I had and cares; I spoke generally. What should I have a about?—you and Molly are only too to me," her with tears.
"Well, well, we'll not talk of such things, and you shall have some sweet to the taste of the I shall be to upon."
"Please, don't. If you but how I and disguises! I do want bitters—and if I sometimes—if I'm to—if I'm not myself, I do like truth in others—at least, sometimes." She ended her with another smile, but it was and watery.
Now the person out of the house to notice Cynthia's of look and manner was Roger Hamley—and yet he did not see her until, under the of the mixture, she was to recover. But his were off her the five minutes he was in the room. All the time he was trying to talk to Mrs. Gibson in reply to her platitudes, he was studying Cynthia; and at the pause he came and Molly, so as to his person her and the of the room; for some visitors had come in to his entrance.
"Molly, how your sister is looking! What is it? Has she had advice? You must me, but so often those who live together in the same house don't the of illness."
Now Molly's love for Cynthia was fast and unwavering, but if anything it, it was the Roger had into of always calling Cynthia Molly's sister in speaking to the latter. From any one else it would have been a of to her, and to be noticed; it ear and when Roger used the expression; and there was a of manner as well as of in her reply.
"Oh! she was over-tired by the ball. Papa has her, and says she will be all right very soon."
"I wonder if she wants of air?" said Roger, meditatively. "I wish—I do wish we have her at the Hall; you and your mother too, of course. But I don't see how it would be possible—or else how it would be!"
Molly as if a visit to the Hall under such would be so different an to all her ones, that she tell if she should like it or not.
Roger on,—
"You got our flowers in time, did you not? Ah! you don't know how often I of you that evening! And you it too, didn't you?—you had of partners, and all that makes a delightful? I that your sister every dance."
"It was very pleasant," said Molly, quietly. "But, after all, I'm not sure if I want to go to another just yet; there to be so much trouble with a ball."
"Ah! you are of your sister, and her not being well?"
"No, I was not," said Molly, bluntly. "I was of the dress, and the dressing, and the the next day."
He might think her if he liked; she as if she had only too much just then, for it was on her a of heart. But he was too good himself to put any on her speech. Just he away, while he was her hand and her good-by, he said to her in a voice too low to be heard,—
"Is there anything I do for your sister? We have of books, as you know, if she for reading." Then, no look or word from Molly in reply to this suggestion, he on,—"Or flowers? she flowers. Oh! and our are just ready—I will some over to-morrow."
"I am sure she will like them," said Molly.
For some or other, unknown to the Gibsons, a longer than Osborne's visits, while Roger came almost every day, always with some fresh by which he openly to Cynthia's as as it in his power. Her manner to him was so and that Mrs. Gibson alarmed, lest, in of his "uncouthness" (as she was pleased to term it), he might come to be to Osborne, who was so his own interests, in Mrs. Gibson's opinion. In her way, she to pass many upon Roger; but the from his nature that not have her motives, and themselves on Molly. She had often been called and when she was a child; and she now that she to that she had a temper. What neither to Roger Cynthia Molly's blood boil; and now she had once Mrs. Gibson's wish to make Roger's visits and less frequent, she was always on the watch for of this desire. She read her stepmother's when the to the Squire's loneliness, now that Osborne was from the Hall, and that Roger was so often away his friends the day,—
"Mr. Gibson and I should be so if you have stopped to dinner; but, of course, we cannot be so selfish as to ask you to when we how your father would be left alone. We were saying yesterday we how he his solitude, old gentleman!"
Or, as soon as Roger came with his of early roses, it was for Cynthia to go and in her own room, while Molly had to Mrs. Gibson on some or call. Still Roger, object was to give to Cynthia, and who had, from his boyhood, been always of Mr. Gibson's regard, was slow to that he was not wanted. If he did not see Cynthia, that was his loss; at any rate, he how she was, and left her some little thing which he she would like, and was to the of his own by calling four or five times in the of her once. At last there came a day when Mrs. Gibson her negative snubbiness, and when, in some fit of crossness, for she was a very placid-tempered person in general, she was of positive rudeness.
Cynthia was very much better. Tonics had to a mind diseased, though she to it; her and much of her light-heartedness had come back, and there was no for anxiety. Mrs. Gibson was at her in the drawing-room, and the two girls were at the window, Cynthia laughing at Molly's to the French in which the had been reading a page of Voltaire. For the duty, or the farce, of settling to "improving reading" in the was still up, although Lord Hollingford, the of the idea, had gone to town without making any of the to see Molly again that Mrs. Gibson had on the night of the ball. That Alnaschar had to the ground. It was as yet early morning; a delicious, fresh, June day, the air with the of flower-growth and bloom; and the time the girls had been in the French reading they had been out of the open window trying to a of roses. They had them at last, and the on Cynthia's lap, but many of the had off; so, though the perfume about the window-seat, the full of the flowers had passed away. Mrs. Gibson had once or twice them for the noise they were making, which her in the of the in her pattern; and she had set herself a quantity to do that going out, and was of that nature which to small resolutions, about without any whatever.
"Mr. Roger Hamley," was announced. "So tiresome!" said Mrs. Gibson, almost in his hearing, as she pushed away her frame. She put out her cold, hand to him, with a half-murmured word of welcome, still her embroidery. He took no notice, and passed on to the window.
"How delicious!" said he. "No need for any more Hamley roses now yours are out."
"I agree with you," said Mrs. Gibson, to him either Cynthia or Molly speak, though he his to them. "You have been very in us flowers so long; but now our own are out we need not trouble you any more."
He looked at her with a little his face; it was more at the than the words. Mrs. Gibson, however, had been to the blow, and she to go on as opportunity offered. Molly would have been more if she had not Cynthia's colour rise. She waited for her to speak, if need were; for she that Roger's defence, if were required, might be safely to Cynthia's wit.
He put out his hand for the of roses that in Cynthia's lap.
"At any rate," said he, "my trouble—if Mrs. Gibson it has been a trouble to me—will be over-paid, if I may have this."
"Old for new," said Cynthia, as she gave it to him. "I wish one always such as you have us, as cheaply."
"You the waste of time that, I think, we must as part of the payment," said her mother. "Really, Mr. Hamley, we must learn to our doors on you if you come so often, and at such early hours! I settle myself to my own after till lunch-time; and it is my wish to keep Cynthia and Molly to a of reading and study—so for people of their age, if they are to intelligent, women; but with early visitors it is to any of habits."
All this was said in that sweet, false which of late had gone through Molly like the of a slate-pencil on a slate. Roger's changed. His colour for a moment, and he looked and not pleased. In another moment the of returned. Why should not he, he asked himself, her? It was early to call; it did regular occupation. So he spoke, and said,—
"I I have been very thoughtless—I'll not come so early again; but I had some to-day: my told me you had a plan for going to see Hurst Wood when the roses were out, and they are than this year—I've been to see. He spoke of a long day there, going lunch—"
"The plan was with Mr. Osborne Hamley. I not think of going without him!" said Mrs. Gibson, coldly.
"I had a from him this morning, in which he named your wish, and he says he he cannot be at home till they are out of flower. I they are not much to see in reality, but the day is so I that the plan of going to Hurst Wood would be a for being out of doors."
"Thank you. How you are! and so good, too, in your natural to be with your father as much as possible."
"I'm to say my father is so much than he was in the winter that he much of his time out of doors in his fields. He has been to go about alone, and I—we think that as great a return to his as he can be to make is the best for him."
"And when do you return to Cambridge?"
There was some in Roger's manner as he replied,—
"It is uncertain. You know that I am a Fellow of Trinity now. I yet know what my plans may be; I am of going up to London soon."
"Ah! London is the true place for a man," said Mrs. Gibson, with decision, as if she had a good on the question. "If it were not that we are so this morning, I should have been to make an to our rule; one more exception, for your early visits have us make too many already. Perhaps, however, we may see you again you go?"
"Certainly I shall come," he, to take his leave, and still the roses in his hand. Then, himself more to Cynthia, he added, "My in London will not a or so—is there anything I can do for you—or you?" a little to Molly.
"No, thank you very much," said Cynthia, very sweetly, and then, acting on a impulse, she out of the window, and him some half-opened roses. "You these; do that away."
His brightened, his glowed. He took the offered buds, but did not away the other bunch.
"At any rate, I may come after is over, and the afternoons and will be the most time of day a month hence." He said this to Molly and Cynthia, but in his he it to the latter.
Mrs. Gibson not to what he was saying, but out her hand once more to him.
"I we shall see you when you return; and pray tell your how we are to have a visit from him again."
When he had left the room, Molly's was full. She had his face, and read something of his feelings: his at their non-acquiescence in his plan of a day's in Hurst Wood, the that his presence was not welcome to the wife of his old friend, which had come so slowly upon him—perhaps, after all, these touched Molly more than they did him. His look when Cynthia gave him the rose-buds a of more than the pain he had by his previous of gravity.
"I can't think why he will come at such hours," said Mrs. Gibson, as soon as she him out of the house. "It's different from Osborne; we are so much more with him: he came and friends with us all the time this of his was his with at Cambridge. Fellow of Trinity, indeed! I wish he would learn to there, and not come here, and that I asked Osborne to join in a it was all the same to me which came."
"In short, mamma, one man may a horse, but another must not look over the hedge," said Cynthia, a little.
"And the two have always been so by their friends, and there has been such a them, that it is no wonder Roger thinks he may be welcome where Osborne is allowed to come at all hours," Molly, in high dudgeon. "Roger's 'muddled brains,' indeed! Roger, 'stupid!'"
"Oh, very well, my dears! When I was it wouldn't have been for girls of your age to out a little was as to the hours at which they should the men's calls. And they would have that there might be good why their of the visits of gentlemen, while they were proud and pleased to see some members of the same family."
"But that was what I said, mamma," said Cynthia, looking at her mother with an of on her face. "One man may—"
"Be quiet, child! All are vulgar, and I do that is the of all. You are Roger Hamley's coarseness, Cynthia!"
"Mamma," said Cynthia, to anger, "I don't mind your me, but Mr. Roger Hamley has been very to me while I've not been well: I can't to him disparaged. If he's coarse, I've no to be as well, for it to me it must and pleasantness, and the of flowers and presents."
Molly's were over at these words; she have Cynthia for her warm partisanship, but, of emotion, and "making a scene," as Mrs. Gibson called any of warm feeling, she her book hastily, and ran to her room, and locked the door in order to breathe freely. There were of upon her when she returned into the drawing-room half-an-hour afterwards, walking and up to her place, where Cynthia still and out of the window, and displeased; Mrs. Gibson, meanwhile, her with great and vigour.
