Mr Gibson said, turning round to Molly as soon as Robinson had left the room.'I ought to be far enough away at twelve; but, if I'm not much mistaken, the innate habits of a gentleman will make him uneasy at the idea of keeping me waiting his pleasure, and will do more to bring him out of that room into this than any entreaties or reasoning.' Mr Gibson was growing impatient though, before they heard the squire's footstep on the stairs; he was evidently coming slowly and unwillingly.He came in almost like one blind, groping along, and taking hold of chair or table for support or guidance till he reached Mr Gibson.He did not speak when he held the doctor by the hand;he only hung down his head, and kept on a feeble shaking of welcome.'I'm brought very low, sir.I suppose it's God's doing; but it comes hard upon me.He was my firstborn child.' He said this almost as if speaking to a stranger, and informing him of facts of which he was ignorant.'Here's Molly,' said Mr Gibson, choking a little himself, and pushing her forwards.'I beg your pardon; I did not see you at first.My mind is a good deal occupied just now.' He sate heavily down, and then seemed almost to forget they were there.Molly wondered what was to come next.Suddenly her father spoke, - 'Where's Roger?' said he.'Is he not likely to be soon at the Cape?' He got up and looked at the directions of one or two unopened letters brought by that morning's post; among them was one in Cynthia's handwriting.Both Molly and he saw it at the same time.How long it was since yesterday!
But the squire took no notice of their proceedings or their looks.'You will be glad to have Roger at home as soon as may be, I think, sir.
Some months must elapse first; but I'm sure he will return as speedily as possible.' The squire said something in a very low voice.Both father and daughter strained their ears to hear what it was.They both believed it to be, 'Roger is not Osborne!' And Mr Gibson spoke on that belief.He spoke more quietly than Molly had ever heard him do before.'No! we know that.I wish that anything that Roger could do, or that Icould do, or that any one could do, would comfort you; but it is past human comfort.' 'I do try to say, God's will be done, sir,' said the squire, looking up at Mr Gibson for the first time, and speaking with more life in his voice;'but it is harder to be resigned than happy people think.' They were all silent for a while.The squire himself was the first to speak again, -'He was my first child, sir; my eldest son.And of late years we weren't'
- his voice broke down, but he controlled himself - 'we weren't quite as good friends as could be wished; and I'm not sure - not sure that he knew how I loved him.' And now he cried aloud with an exceeding bitter cry.'Better so!' whispered Mr Gibson to Molly.'When he is a little calmer, don't be afraid; tell him all you know, exactly as it happened.' Molly began.Her voice sounded high and unnatural to herself, as if some one else was speaking, but she made her words clear.The squire did not attempt to listen, at first, at any rate.'One day when I was here, at the time of Mrs Hamley's last illness' (the squire here checked his convulsive breathing), 'I was in the library, and Osborne came in.He said he had only come in for a book, and that I was not to mind him, so I went on reading.Presently, Roger came along the flagged garden-path just outside the window (which was open).He did not see me in the corner where I was sitting, and said to Osborne, "Here's a letter from your wife!"' Now the squire was all attention; for the first time his tear-swollen eyes met the eyes of another, and he looked at Molly with searching anxiety, as he repeated, 'His wife! Osborne married!' Molly went on, - 'Osborne was angry with Roger for speaking out before me, and they made me promise never to mention it to any one; or to allude to it to either of them again.I never named it to papa till last night.' 'Go on,' said Mr Gibson.'Tell the squire about Osborne's call, - what you told me!' Still the squire hung on her lips, listening with open mouth and eyes.'Some months ago Osborne called.He was not well, and wanted to see papa.
Papa was away, and I was alone.I don't exactly remember how it came about, but he spoke to me of his wife for the first and only time since the affair in the library.' She looked at her father, as if questioning him as to the desirableness of telling the few further particulars that she knew.
The squire's mouth was dry and stiff, but he tried to say, 'Tell me all, - everything.' And Molly understood the half-formed words.'He said his wife was a good woman, and that he loved her dearly; but she was a French Roman Catholic, and a' - another glance at her father - 'she had been a servant once.That was all; except that I have her address at home.He wrote it down and gave it me.' 'Well, well!' moaned the squire.'It's all over now.All over.All past and gone.We'll not blame him, - no; but I wish he'd a told me; he and I to live together with such a secret in one of us.It's no wonder to me now - nothing can be a wonder again, for one never can tell what's in a man's heart.Married so long! and we sitting together at meals - and living together.Why, I told him everything! Too much, may be, for I showed him all my passions and ill-tempers! Married so long! Oh, Osborne, Osborne, you should have told me!' 'Yes, he should!' said Mr Gibson.'But I daresay he knew how much you would dislike such a choice as he had made.But he should have told you!' 'You know nothing about it, sir,' said the squire sharply.'You don't know the terms we were on.Not hearty or confidential.I was cross to him many a time.angry with him for being dull, poor lad - and he with all this weight on his mind.I won't have people interfering and judging between me and my sons.And Roger too! He could know it all, and keep it from me!' 'Osborne evidently had bound him down to secrecy, just as he bound me,'
said Molly; 'Roger could not help himself.' 'Osborne was such a fellow for persuading people, and winning them over,'