I almost hate the idea of Roger judging me by his own standard, which was not made for me, and graciously forgiving me at last.' 'Then I do believe it is right for you to break it off,' said Mr Gibson, almost as if he was thinking to himself.'That poor lad! But it will be best for him too.And he'll get over it.He has a good strong heart.Poor old Roger!' For a moment Cynthia's wilful fancy stretched after the object passing out of her grasp, - Roger's love became for the instant a treasure; but, again, she knew that in its entirety of high undoubting esteem, as well as of passionate regard, it would no longer be hers; and for the flaw which she herself had made, she cast it away, and would none of it.Yet often in after years, when it was too late, she wondered, and strove to penetrate the inscrutable mystery of 'what would have been.' 'Still take till to-morrow before you act upon your decision,' said Mr Gibson, slowly.'What faults you have fallen into have been mere girlish faults at first, - leading you into much deceit, I grant.' 'Don't give yourself the trouble to define the shades of blackness,' said Cynthia, bitterly.'I am not so obtuse but what I know them all better than any one can tell me.And as for my decision I acted upon it at once.
It may be long before Roger gets my letter, - but I hope he is sure to get it at last, - and, as I said, I have let his father know; it won't hurt him! Oh, sir, I think if I had been differently brought up I should not have had the sore angry heart I have.Now! No, don't! I don't want reasoning comfort.I can't stand it.I should always have wanted admiration and worship, and men's good opinion.Those unkind gossips! To visit Molly with their hard words! Oh, dear! I think life is very dreary.' She put her head down on her hands; tired out mentally as well as bodily.
So Mr Gibson thought.He felt as if much speech from him would only add to her excitement, and make her worse.He left the room, and called Molly, from where she was sitting, dolefully.'Go to Cynthia!' he whispered, and Molly went.She took Cynthia into her arms with gentle power, and laid her head against her own breast, as if the one had been a mother, and the other a child.'Oh, my darling!' she murmured.'I do so love you, dear, dear Cynthia!'
and she stroked her hair, and kissed her eyelids; Cynthia passive all the while, till suddenly she started up stung with a new idea, and looking Molly straight in the face, she said, - 'Molly, Roger will marry you! See if it is not so! You two good -- ' But Molly pushed her away with a sudden violence of repulsion.'Don't!'
she said.She was crimson with shame and indignation.'Your husband this morning! Mine to-night! What do you take him for?' 'A man!' smiled Cynthia.'And therefore, if you won't let me call him changeable, I'll coin a word and call him consolable!' But Molly gave her back no answering smile.At this moment, the servant Maria entered the consulting-room, where the two girls were.She had a scared look.'Is not master here?' asked she, as if she distrusted her eyes.'No!' said Cynthia.'I heard him go out.I heard him shut the front door not five minutes ago.' 'Oh, dear!' said Maria.'And there's a man come on horseback from Hamley Hall, and he says Mr Osborne is dead, and that master must go off to the squire straight away!' 'Osborne Hamley dead?' said Cynthia, in awed surprise.Molly was out at the front door, seeking the messenger through the dusk, round into the stable-yard, where the groom sate motionless on his dark horse, flecked with foam, made visible by the lantern placed on the steps near, where it had been left by the servants, who were dismayed at this news of the handsome young man who had frequented their master's house, so full of sportive elegance and winsomeness.Molly went up to the man, whose thoughts were lost in recollection of the scene he had left at the place he had come from.She laid her hand on the hot damp skin of the horse's shoulder; the man started.'Is the doctor coming, Miss?' For he saw who it was by the dim light.'He is dead, is he not?' asked Molly, in a low voice.'I'm afeard he is, - leastways there is no doubt according to what they said.But I have ridden hard! there may be a chance.Is the doctor coming, Miss?' 'He is gone out.They are seeking him, I believe.I will go myself.Oh!
