The loneliest part of the road was the first - the lane, the wood, the little bridge, and the clambering through the upland fields.But Molly cared little for loneliness.She went along the lane under the over-arching elm-branches, from which, here and there, a yellow leaf came floating down upon her very dress; past the last cottage where a little child had tumbled down the sloping bank, and was publishing the accident with frightened cries.Molly stooped to pick it up, and taking it in her arms in a manner which caused intense surprise to take the place of alarm in its little breast, she carried it up the rough flag steps towards the cottage which she supposed to be its home.The mother came running in from the garden behind the house, still holding the late damsons she had been gathering in her apron; but, on seeing her, the little creature held out its arms to go to her, and she dropped her damsons all about as she took it, and began to soothe it as it cried afresh, interspersing her lulling with thanks to Molly.She called her by her name; and on Molly asking the woman how she came to know it, she replied that she had been a servant of Mrs Goodenough before her marriage, and so was 'bound to know Dr Gibson's daughter by sight.' After the exchange of two or three more words, Molly ran down into the lane, and pursued her way, stopping here and there to gather a nosegay of such leaves as struck her for their brilliant colouring.She entered the wood.As she turned a corner in the lonely path, she heard a passionate voice of distress; and in an instant she recognized Cynthia's tones.She stood still and looked around.There were some holly bushes shining out dark green in the midst of the amber and scarlet foliage.If any one was there, it must be behind these thick bushes.So Molly left the path, and went straight, plunging through the brown tangled growth of ferns and underwood, and turned the holly bushes.There stood Mr Preston and Cynthia; he holding her hands tight, each looking as if just silenced in some vehement talk by the rustle of Molly's footsteps.
For an instant no one spoke.Then Cynthia said - , 'Oh, Molly, Molly, come and judge between us!'
Mr Preston let go Cynthia's hands slowly, with a look that was more of a sneer than a, smile; and yet he, too, had been strongly agitated, whatever was the subject in dispute.Molly came forwards and took Cynthia's arm, her eyes steadily fixed on Mr Preston's face.It was fine to see the fearlessness of her perfect innocence.He could not bear her look, and said to Cynthia, -'The subject of our conversation does not well admit of a third person's presence.As Miss Gibson seems to wish for your company now, I must beg you to fix some other time and place where we can finish our discussion.'
'I will go if Cynthia wishes me,' said Molly.
'No, no; stay - I want you to stay - I want you to hear it all - I wish I had told you sooner.'
'You mean that you regret that she has not been made aware of our engagement - that you promised long ago to be my wife.Pray remember that it was you who made me promise secrecy, not I you?'
'I don't believe him, Cynthia.Don't, don't cry if you can help it;I don't believe him.'
'Cynthia,' said he, suddenly changing his tone to fervid tenderness, 'pray, pray do not go on so; you can't think how it distresses me.' He stepped forwards to try and take her hand and soothe her; but she shrank away from him, and sobbed the more irrepressibly.She felt Molly's presence so much to be a protection that now she dared to let herself go, and to weaken herself by giving way to her emotion.
'Go away!' said Molly.'Don't you see you make her worse?' But he did not stir; he was looking at Cynthia so intently that he did not seem even to hear her.'Go,' said Molly, vehemently, 'if it really distresses you to see her cry.Don't you see, it's you who are the cause of it?'
'I will go if Cynthia tells me,' said he at length.
'Oh, Molly, I do not know what to do,' said Cynthia, taking down her hands from her tear-stained face, and appealing to Molly, and sobbing worse than ever; in fact, she became hysterical, and though she tried to speak coherently, no intelligible words would come.
'Run to that cottage in the trees, and fetch her a cup of water,' said Molly.He hesitated a little.
'Why don't you go?' said Molly, impatiently.
'I have not done speaking to her; you will not leave before I come back?'
'No.Don't you see she can't move in this state?'
He went quickly, if reluctantly.
Cynthia was some time before she could check her sobs enough to speak.
At length, she said, -
'Molly, I do hate him!'
'But what did he mean by saying you were engaged to him? Don't cry, dear, but tell me; if I can help you I will, but I can't imagine what it all really is.'
'It is too long a story to tell now, and I'm not strong enough.Look!
he is coming back.As soon as I can, let us get home.'
'With all my heart,' said Molly.
He brought the water, and Cynthia drank, and was restored to calmness.
'Now,' said Molly, 'we had better go home as fast as you can manage it; it is getting dark quickly.'
If she hoped to carry Cynthia off so easily, she was mistaken.Mr Preston was resolute on this point.He said, -'I think since Miss Gibson has made herself acquainted with this much, we had better let her know the whole truth - that you are engaged to marry me as soon as you are twenty; otherwise your being here with me, and by appointment too, may appear strange, even equivocal to her.'
'As I know that Cynthia is engaged to - another man, you can hardly expect me to believe what you say, Mr Preston.'
'Oh, Molly,' said Cynthia, trembling all over, but trying to be calm, 'I am not engaged, neither to the person you mean, nor to Mr Preston.'
Mr Preston forced a.smile.'I think I have some letters that would convince Miss Gibson of the truth of what I have said; and which will convince Mr Osborne Hamley, if necessary - I conclude it is to him she is alluding.'