Wives and Daughters

by Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell

  CHAPTER XLIX.

  MOLLY GIBSON FINDS A CHAMPION.

  Lady Cumnor had so far recovered from the violence of her attack, andfrom the consequent operation, as to be able to be removed to theTowers for change of air; and accordingly she was brought thitherby her whole family with all the pomp and state becoming an invalidpeeress. There was every probability that "the family" would make alonger residence at the Towers than they had done for several years,during which time they had been wanderers hither and thither insearch of health. Somehow, after all, it was very pleasant andrestful to come to the old ancestral home, and every member of thefamily enjoyed it in his or her own way; Lord Cumnor most especially.His talent for gossip and his love of small details had scarcelyfair play in the hurry of a London life, and were much nipped in thebud during his Continental sojournings, as he neither spoke Frenchfluently, nor understood it easily when spoken. Besides, he was agreat proprietor, and liked to know how his land was going on howhis tenants were faring in the world. He liked to hear of theirbirths, marriages, and deaths, and had something of a royal memoryfor faces. In short, if ever a peer was an old woman, Lord Cumnorwas that peer; but he was a very good-natured old woman, and rodeabout on his stout old cob with his pockets full of halfpence forthe children, and little packets of snuff for the old people. Likean old woman, too, he enjoyed an afternoon cup of tea in his wife'ssitting-room, and over his gossip's beverage he would repeat all thathe had learnt in the day. Lady Cumnor was exactly in that state ofconvalescence when such talk as her lord's was extremely agreeableto her, but she had contemned the habit of listening to gossip soseverely all her life, that she thought it due to consistency tolisten first, and enter a supercilious protest afterwards. It had,however, come to be a family habit for all of them to gather togetherin Lady Cumnor's room on their return from their daily walks, ordrives, or rides, and over the fire, sipping their tea at her earlymeal, to recount the morsels of local intelligence they had heardduring the morning. When they had said all that they had to say (andnot before), they had always to listen to a short homily from herladyship on the well-worn texts,--the poorness of conversation aboutpersons,--the probable falsehood of all they had heard, and thedegradation of character implied by its repetition. On one of theseNovember evenings they were all assembled in Lady Cumnor's room.She was lying,--all draped in white, and covered up with an Indianshawl,--on a sofa near the fire. Lady Harriet sate on the rug, closebefore the wood-fire, picking up fallen embers with a pair of dwarftongs, and piling them on the red and odorous heap in the centre ofthe hearth. Lady Cuxhaven, notable from girlhood, was using the blindman's holiday to net fruit-nets for the walls at Cuxhaven Park. LadyCumnor's woman was trying to see to pour out tea by the light of onesmall wax-candle in the background (for Lady Cumnor could not bearmuch light to her weakened eyes); and the great leafless branches ofthe trees outside the house kept sweeping against the windows, movedby the wind that was gathering.

  It was always Lady Cumnor's habit to snub those she loved best. Herhusband was perpetually snubbed by her, yet she missed him now thathe was later than usual, and professed not to want her tea; but theyall knew that it was only because he was not there to hand it to her,and be found fault with for his invariable stupidity in forgettingthat she liked to put sugar in before she took any cream. At lengthhe burst in:--

  "I beg your pardon, my lady,--I'm later than I should have been,I know. Why! haven't you had your tea yet?" he exclaimed, bustlingabout to get the cup for his wife.

  "You know I never take cream before I've sweetened it," said she,with even more emphasis on the "never" than usual.

  "Oh, dear! What a simpleton I am! I think I might have remembered itby this time. You see I met old Sheepshanks, and that's the reason ofit."

  "Of your handing me the cream before the sugar?" asked his wife. Itwas one of her grim jokes.

  "No, no! ha, ha! You're better this evening, I think, my dear. But,as I was saying, Sheepshanks is such an eternal talker, there's nogetting away from him, and I had no idea it was so late!"

  "Well, I think the least you can do is to tell us something of Mr.Sheepshanks' conversation now you have torn yourself away from him."

  "Conversation! did I call it conversation? I don't think I said much.I listened. He really has always a great deal to say. More thanPreston, for instance. And, by the way, he was telling me somethingabout Preston--old Sheepshanks thinks he'll be married beforelong,--he says there's a great deal of gossip going on about himand Gibson's daughter. They've been caught meeting in the park, andcorresponding, and all that kind of thing that is likely to end in amarriage."

  "I shall be very sorry," said Lady Harriet. "I always liked thatgirl; and I can't bear papa's model land-agent."

  "I daresay it's not true," said Lady Cumnor, in a very audible asideto Lady Harriet. "Papa picks up stories one day to contradict themthe next."

  "Ah, but this did sound like truth. Sheepshanks said all the oldladies in the town had got hold of it, and were making a greatscandal out of it."

  "I don't think it does sound quite a nice story. I wonder what Clarecould be doing to allow such goings on," said Lady Cuxhaven.

  "I think it is much more likely that Clare's own daughter--thatpretty pawky Miss Kirkpatrick--is the real heroine of this story,"said Lady Harriet. "She always looks like a heroine of genteelcomedy; and those young ladies were capable of a good deal ofinnocent intriguing, if I remember rightly. Now little Molly Gibsonhas a certain _gaucherie_ about her which would disqualify her atonce from any clandestine proceedings. Besides, 'clandestine!' why,the child is truth itself. Papa, are you sure Mr. Sheepshanks said itwas Miss Gibson that was exciting Hollingford scandal? Wasn't it MissKirkpatrick? The notion of her and Mr. Preston making a match of itdoesn't sound so incongruous; but if it's my little friend Molly,I'll go to church and forbid the banns."

  "Really, Harriet, I can't think what always makes you take such aninterest in all these petty Hollingford affairs."

  "Mamma, it's only tit for tat. They take the most lively interestin all our sayings and doings. If I were going to be married, theywould want to know every possible particular,--when we first met,what we first said to each other, what I wore, and whether he offeredby letter or in person. I'm sure those good Miss Brownings werewonderfully well-informed as to Mary's methods of managing hernursery, and educating her girls; so it's only a proper return of thecompliment to want to know on our side how they are going on. I'mquite of papa's faction. I like to hear all the local gossip."

  "Especially when it is flavoured with a spice of scandal andimpropriety, as in this case," said Lady Cumnor, with the momentarybitterness of a convalescent invalid. Lady Harriet coloured withannoyance. But then she rallied her courage, and said with moregravity than before,--

  "I am really interested in this story about Molly Gibson, I own. Iboth like and respect her; and I do not like to hear her name coupledwith that of Mr. Preston. I can't help fancying papa has made somemistake."

  "No, my dear. I'm sure I'm repeating what I heard. I'm sorry I saidanything about it, if it annoys you or my lady there. Sheepshanks didsay Miss Gibson, though, and he went on to say it was a pity the girlhad got herself so talked about; for it was the way they had carriedon that gave rise to all the chatter. Preston himself was a veryfair match for her, and nobody could have objected to it. But I'lltry and find a more agreeable piece of news. Old Margery at thelodge is dead; and they don't know where to find some one to teachclear-starching at your school; and Robert Hall made forty poundslast year by his apples." So they drifted away from Molly and heraffairs; only Lady Harriet kept turning what she had heard over inher own mind with interest and wonder.

  "I warned her against him the day of her father's wedding. And whata straightforward, out-spoken topic it was then! I don't believe it;it's only one of old Sheepshanks' stories, half invention and halfdeafness."

  The next day Lady Harriet rode over to Hollingford, and for thesettling of her curiosity she called on Miss Bro
wnings, andintroduced the subject. She would not have spoken about the rumourshe had heard to any who were not warm friends of Molly's. If Mr.Sheepshanks had chosen to allude to it when she had been riding withher father, she would very soon have silenced him by one of thehaughty looks she knew full well how to assume. But she felt as ifshe must know the truth, and accordingly she began thus abruptly toMiss Browning:

  "What is all this I hear about my little friend Molly Gibson and Mr.Preston?"

  "Oh, Lady Harriet! have you heard of it? We are so sorry!"

  "Sorry for what?"

  "I think, begging your ladyship's pardon, we had better not say anymore till we know how much you know," said Miss Browning.

  "Nay," replied Lady Harriet, laughing a little, "I shan't tell what Iknow till I am sure you know more. Then we'll make an exchange if youlike."

  "I'm afraid it's no laughing matter for poor Molly," said MissBrowning, shaking her head. "People do say such things!"

  "But I don't believe them; indeed I don't," burst in Miss Phoebe,half crying.

  "No more will I, then," said Lady Harriet, taking the good lady'shand.

  "It's all very fine, Phoebe, saying you don't believe them, but Ishould like to know who it was that convinced me, sadly against mywill, I am sure."

  "I only told you the facts as Mrs. Goodenough told them me, sister;but I'm sure if you had seen poor patient Molly as I have done,sitting up in a corner of a room, looking at the _Beauties of Englandand Wales_ till she must have been sick of them, and no one speakingto her; and she as gentle and sweet as ever at the end of theevening, though maybe a bit pale--facts or no facts, I won't believeanything against her."

  So there sate Miss Phoebe, in tearful defiance of facts.

  "And, as I said before, I'm quite of your opinion," said LadyHarriet.

  "But how does your ladyship explain away her meetings with Mr.Preston in all sorts of unlikely and open-air places?" asked MissBrowning,--who, to do her justice, would have been only too glad tojoin Molly's partisans, if she could have preserved her character forlogical deduction at the same time. "I went so far as to send for herfather and tell him all about it. I thought at least he would havehorsewhipped Mr. Preston but he seems to have taken no notice ofit."

  "Then we may be quite sure he knows some way of explaining mattersthat we don't," said Lady Harriet, decisively. "After all, theremay be a hundred and fifty perfectly natural and justifiableexplanations."

  "Mr. Gibson knew of none when I thought it my duty to speak to him,"said Miss Browning.

  "Why, suppose that Mr. Preston is engaged to Miss Kirkpatrick, andMolly is confidante and messenger?"

  "I don't see that your ladyship's supposition much alters the blame.Why, if he is honourably engaged to Cynthia Kirkpatrick, does he notvisit her openly at her home in Mr. Gibson's house? Why does Mollylend herself to clandestine proceedings?"

  "One can't account for everything," said Lady Harriet, a littleimpatiently, for reason was going hard against her. "But I choose tohave faith in Molly Gibson. I'm sure she's not done anything verywrong. I've a great mind to go and call on her--Mrs. Gibson isconfined to her room with this horrid influenza--and take her withme on a round of calls through this little gossiping town,--on Mrs.Goodenough, or Badenough, who seems to have been propagating allthese stories. But I've not time to-day. I've to meet papa at three,and it's three now. Only remember, Miss Phoebe, it's you and Iagainst the world, in defence of a distressed damsel."

  "Don Quixote and Sancho Panza!" said she to herself as she ranlightly down Miss Browning's old-fashioned staircase.

  "Now, I don't think that's pretty of you, Phoebe," said MissBrowning in some displeasure, as soon as she was alone with hersister. "First, you convince me against my will, and make me veryunhappy; and I have to do unpleasant things, all because you've mademe believe that certain statements are true; and then you turn roundand cry, and say you don't believe a word of it all, making me outa regular ogre and backbiter. No! it's of no use. I shan't listento you." So she left Miss Phoebe in tears, and locked herself up inher own room.

  Lady Harriet, meanwhile, was riding homewards by her father's side,apparently listening to all he chose to say, but in reality turningover the probabilities and possibilities that might account for thesestrange interviews between Molly and Mr. Preston. It was a case of_parler de l'ane et l'on en voit les oreilles_. At a turn in the roadthey saw Mr. Preston a little way before them, coming towards them onhis good horse, _point device_, in his riding attire.

  The earl, in his thread-bare coat, and on his old brown cob, calledout cheerfully,--

  "Aha! here's Preston. Good-day to you. I was just wanting to ask youabout that slip of pasture-land on the Home Farm. John Brickkillwants to plough it up and crop it. It's not two acres at the best."

  While they were talking over this bit of land, Lady Harriet came toher resolution. As soon as her father had finished, she said,--"Mr.Preston, perhaps you will allow me to ask you one or two questions torelieve my mind, for I am in some little perplexity at present."

  LADY HARRIET ASKS ONE OR TWO QUESTIONS.]

  "Certainly; I shall only be too happy to give you any information inmy power." But the moment after he had made this polite speech, herecollected Molly's speech--that she would refer her case to LadyHarriet. But the letters had been returned, and the affair was nowwound up. She had come off conqueror, he the vanquished. Surely shewould never have been so ungenerous as to appeal after that.

  "There are reports about Miss Gibson and you current among thegossips of Hollingford. Are we to congratulate you on your engagementto that young lady?"

  "Ah! by the way, Preston, we ought to have done it before,"interrupted Lord Cumnor, in hasty goodwill. But his daughter saidquietly, "Mr. Preston has not yet told us if the reports are wellfounded, papa."

  She looked at him with the air of a person expecting an answer, andexpecting a truthful answer.

  "I am not so fortunate," replied he, trying to make his horse appearfidgety, without incurring observation.

  "Then I may contradict that report?" asked Lady Harriet quickly. "Oris there any reason for believing that in time it may come true? Iask because such reports, if unfounded, do harm to young ladies."

  "Keep other sweethearts off," put in Lord Cumnor, looking a good dealpleased at his own discernment. Lady Harriet went on:--

  "And I take a great interest in Miss Gibson."

  Mr. Preston saw from her manner that he was "in for it," as heexpressed it to himself. The question was, how much or how little didshe know?

  "I have no expectation or hope of ever having a nearer interestin Miss Gibson than I have at present. I shall be glad if thisstraightforward answer relieves your ladyship from your perplexity."

  He could not help the touch of insolence that accompanied these lastwords. It was not in the words themselves, nor in the tone in whichthey were spoken, nor in the look which accompanied them, it was inall; it implied a doubt of Lady Harriet's right to question him asshe did; and there was something of defiance in it as well. But thistouch of insolence put Lady Harriet's mettle up; and she was not oneto check herself, in any course, for the opinion of an inferior.

  "Then, sir! are you aware of the injury you may do to a young lady'sreputation if you meet her, and detain her in long conversations,when she is walking by herself, unaccompanied by any one? You giverise--you have given rise to reports."

  "My dear Harriet, are not you going too far? You don't know--Mr.Preston may have intentions--unacknowledged intentions."

  "No, my lord. I have no intentions with regard to Miss Gibson. Shemay be a very worthy young lady--I have no doubt she is. Lady Harrietseems determined to push me into such a position that I cannotbut acknowledge myself to be--it is not enviable--not pleasant toown--but I am, in fact, a jilted man; jilted by Miss Kirkpatrick,after a tolerably long engagement. My interviews with Miss Gibsonwere not of the most agreeable kind--as you may conclude when Itell you she was, I believe, the instigator--certainl
y, she was theagent in this last step of Miss Kirkpatrick's. Is your ladyship'scuriosity" (with an emphasis on this last word) "satisfied with thisrather mortifying confession of mine?"

  "Harriet, my dear, you've gone too far--we had no right to pry intoMr. Preston's private affairs."

  "No more I had," said Lady Harriet, with a smile of winningfrankness: the first smile she had accorded to Mr. Preston for manya long day; ever since the time, years ago, when, presuming on hishandsomeness, he had assumed a tone of gallant familiarity with LadyHarriet, and paid her personal compliments as he would have done toan equal.

  "But he will excuse me, I hope," continued she, still in thatgracious manner which made him feel that he now held a much higherplace in her esteem than he had had at the beginning of theirinterview, "when he learns that the busy tongues of the Hollingfordladies have been speaking of my friend, Miss Gibson, in the mostunwarrantable manner; drawing unjustifiable inferences from the factsof that intercourse with Mr. Preston, the nature of which he has justconferred such a real obligation on me by explaining."

  "I think I need hardly request Lady Harriet to consider thisexplanation of mine as confidential," said Mr. Preston.

  "Of course, of course!" said the earl; "every one will understandthat." And he rode home, and told his wife and Lady Cuxhaven thewhole conversation between Lady Harriet and Mr. Preston in thestrictest confidence, of course. Lady Harriet had to stand a goodmany strictures on manners, and proper dignity for a few days afterthis. However, she consoled herself by calling on the Gibsons; and,finding that Mrs. Gibson (who was still an invalid) was asleep at thetime, she experienced no difficulty in carrying off the unconsciousMolly for a walk, which Lady Harriet so contrived that they twicepassed through all the length of the principal street of the town,loitered at Grinstead's for half an hour, and wound up by LadyHarriet's calling on the Miss Brownings, who, to her regret, were notat home.

  "Perhaps, it's as well," said she, after a minute's consideration."I'll leave my card, and put your name down underneath it, Molly."

  Molly was a little puzzled by the manner in which she had been takenpossession of, like an inanimate chattel, for all the afternoon, andexclaimed,--"Please, Lady Harriet--I never leave cards; I have notgot any, and on the Miss Brownings, of all people; why, I am in andout whenever I like."

  "Never mind, little one. To-day you shall do everything properly, andaccording to full etiquette."

  "And now tell Mrs. Gibson to come out to the Towers for a long day;we will send the carriage for her whenever she will let us know thatshe is strong enough to come. Indeed, she had better come for a fewdays; at this time of the year it doesn't do for an invalid to be outin the evenings, even in a carriage." So spoke Lady Harriet, standingon the white door-steps at Miss Brownings', and holding Molly's handwhile she wished her good-by. "You'll tell her, dear, that I camepartly to see her--but that finding her asleep, I ran off with you,and don't forget about her coming to stay with us for change ofair--mamma will like it, I'm sure--and the carriage, and all that.And now good-by, we've done a good day's work! And better than you'reaware of," continued she, still addressing Molly, though the latterwas quite out of hearing. "Hollingford is not the place I take itto be, if it doesn't veer round in Miss Gibson's favour after myto-day's trotting of that child about."