The only person of whom Cynthia appeared to be wholesomely afraid was Mr. Gibson.  When he was present she was more careful in speaking, and showed more deference to her mother.  Her evident respect for Mr Gibson, and desire for his good opinion, made her curb herself before him; and in this manner she earned his good favour as a lively, sensible girl, with just so much knowledge of the world as made her a very desirable companion to Molly.  Indeed, she made something of the same kind of impression on all men.  They were first struck with her personal appearance; and then with her pretty deprecating manner, which appealed to them much as if she had said, ’You are wise, and I am foolish—­have mercy on my folly.’  It was a way she had; it meant nothing really; and she was hardly conscious of it herself; but it was very captivating all the same.  Even old Williams, the gardener, felt it; he said to his confidante, Molly,—­

’Eh, miss, but that be a rare young lady!  She do have such pretty coaxing ways.  I be to teach her to bud roses come the season—­and I’ll warrant ye she’ll learn to be sharp enough, for all she says she bees so stupid.’

If Molly had not had the sweetest disposition in the world she might have become jealous of all the allegiance laid at Cynthia’s feet; but she never thought of comparing the amount of admiration and love which they each received.  Yet once she did feel a little as if Cynthia were poaching on her manor.  The invitation to the quiet dinner had been sent to Osborne Hamley, and declined by him.  But he thought it right to call soon afterwards.  It was the first time Molly had seen any of the family since she left the Hall, since Mrs Hamley’s death; and there was so much that she wanted to ask.  She tried to wait patiently till Mrs. Gibson had exhausted the first gush of her infinite nothings; and then Molly came in with her modest questions.  How was the squire?  Had he returned to his old habits?  Had his health suffered?—­putting each inquiry with as light and delicate a touch as if she had been dressing a wound.  She hesitated a little, a very little, before speaking of Roger; for just one moment the thought flitted across her mind that Osborne might feel the contrast between his own and his brother’s college career too painfully to like to have it referred to; but then she remembered the generous brotherly love that had always existed between the two, and had just entered upon the subject, when Cynthia, in obedience to her mother’s summons, came into the room, and took up her work.  No one could have been quieter—­she hardly uttered a word; but Osborne seemed to fall under her power at once.  He no longer gave his undivided attention to Molly.  He cut short his answers to her questions; and by-and-by, without Molly’s rightly understanding how it was, he had turned towards Cynthia, and was addressing himself to her.  Molly saw the look of content on Mrs. Gibson’s face; perhaps it was her own