‘Do you really like him enough to marry him?’ asked Molly earnestly.  ’Do think, Cynthia.  It won’t do to go on throwing your lovers off; you give pain that I am sure you do not mean to do,—­that you cannot understand.’

’Perhaps I can’t.  I’m not offended.  I never set up for what I am not, and I know I’m not constant.  I have told Mr. Henderson so—­’ She stopped, blushing and smiling at the recollection.

‘You have! and what did he say?’

’That he liked me just as I was; so you see he’s fairly warned.  Only he is a little afraid, I suppose,—­for he wants me to be married very soon, almost directly in fact.  But I don’t know if I shall give way,—­ you hardly saw him, Molly,—­but he’s coming again to-night, and mind, I’ll never forgive you if you don’t think him very charming.  I believe I cared for him when he offered all those months ago, but I tried to think I didn’t; only sometimes I really was so unhappy, I thought I must put an iron-band round my heart to keep it from breaking, like the Faithful John of the German story,’—­do you remember, Molly?—­how when his master came to his crown and his fortune, and his lady-love, after innumerable trials and disgraces, and was driving away from the church where he’d been married in a coach and six, with Faithful John behind, the happy couple heard three great cracks in succession, and on inquiring, they were the iron-bands round his heart, that Faithful John had worn all during the time of his master’s tribulation, to keep it from breaking.’

In the evening Mr. Henderson came.  Molly had been very curious to see him; and when she saw him she was not sure whether she liked him or not.  He was handsome, without being conceited; gentlemanly, without being foolishly fine.  He talked easily, and never said a silly thing.  He was perfectly well-appointed, yet never seemed to have given a thought to his dress.  He was good-tempered and kind; not without some of the cheerful flippancy of repartee which belonged to his age and profession, and which his age and profession are apt to take for wit.  But he wanted something in Molly’s eyes, at any rate in this first interview, and in her heart of hearts she thought him rather commonplace.  But of course she said nothing of this to Cynthia, who was evidently as happy as she could be.  Mrs. Gibson, too, was in the seventh heaven of ecstasy and spoke but little; but what she did say, expressed the highest sentiments in the finest language.  Mr. Gibson was not with them for long, but while he was there he was evidently studying the unconscious Mr. Henderson with his dark penetrating eyes.  Mr. Henderson behaved exactly as he ought to have done to everybody; respectful to Mr. Gibson, deferential to Mrs. Gibson, friendly to Molly, devoted to Cynthia.  The next time Mr Gibson found Molly alone, he began,—­

‘Well! and how do you like the new relation that is to be?’

’It is difficult to say.  I think he is very nice in all his bits, but—­ rather dull on the whole.’