Wives and Daughters eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 1,021 pages of information about Wives and Daughters.

Molly could stand it no longer; she went upstairs to her own room—­her own smart new room, which hardly yet seemed a familiar place; and began to cry so heartily and for so long a time, that she stopped at length for very weariness.  She thought of Mrs. Hamley wearying for her; of the old Hall whose very quietness might become oppressive to an ailing person; of the trust the squire had had in her that she would come off directly with him.  And all this oppressed her much more than the querulousness of her stepmother’s words.



If Molly thought that peace dwelt perpetually at Hamley Hall she was sorely mistaken.  Something was out of tune in the whole establishment; and, for a very unusual thing, the common irritation seemed to have produced a common bond.  All the servants were old in their places, and were told by some one of the family, or gathered, from the unheeded conversation carried on before them, everything that affected master or mistress or either of the young gentlemen.  Any one of them could have told Molly that the grievance which lay at the root of everything, was the amount of the bills run up by Osborne at Cambridge, and which, now that all chance of his obtaining a fellowship was over, came pouring down upon the squire.  But Molly, confident of being told by Mrs. Hamley herself anything which she wished her to hear, encouraged no confidences from any one else.

She was struck with the change in ‘madam’s’ looks as soon as she caught sight of her in the darkened room, lying on the sofa in her dressing-room, all dressed in white, which almost rivalled the white wanness of her face.  The squire ushered Molly in with,—­

‘Here she is at last!’ and Molly had scarcely imagined that he had so much variety in the tones of his voice—­the beginning of the sentence was spoken in a loud congratulatory manner, while the last words were scarcely audible.  He had seen the death-like pallor on his wife’s face; not a new sight, and one which had been presented to him gradually enough, but which was now always giving him a fresh shock.  It was a lovely tranquil winter’s day; every branch and every twig of the trees and shrubs were glittering with drops of the sun-melted hoarfrost; a robin was perched on a holly-bush, piping cheerily; but the blinds were down, and out of Mrs. Hamley’s windows nothing of all this was to be seen.  There was even a large screen placed between her and the wood-fire, to keep off that cheerful blaze.  Mrs. Hamley stretched out one hand to Molly, and held hers firm; with the other she shaded her eyes.

‘She is not so well this morning,’ said the squire, shaking his head.  ’But never fear, my dear one; here’s the doctor’s daughter, nearly as good as the doctor himself.  Have you had your medicine?  Your beef-tea?’ he continued, going about on heavy tiptoe and peeping into every empty cup and glass.  Then he returned to the sofa; looked at her for a minute or two, and then softly kissed her, and told Molly he would leave her in charge.

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Wives and Daughters from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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