If Molly had hoped that her father might have raised some obstacles to the project, she was disappointed.  But, indeed, she did not when she perceived how he seemed to feel that, by placing her under the care of Lady Harriet and Parkes, he should be relieved from anxiety; and how he spoke of this change of air and scene as being the very thing he had been wishing to secure for her; country air, and absence of excitement as this would be; for the only other place where he could have secured her these advantages, and at the same time sent her as an invalid, was to Hamley Hall; and he dreaded the associations there with the beginning of her present illness.

So Molly was driven off in state the next day, leaving her own home all in confusion with the assemblage of boxes and trunks in the hall, and all the other symptoms of the approaching departure of the family for London and the wedding.  All the morning Cynthia had been with her in her room, attending to the arrangement of Molly’s clothes, instructing her what to wear with what, and rejoicing over the pretty smartnesses, which, having been prepared for her as bridesmaid, were now to serve as adornments for her visit to the Towers.  Both Molly and Cynthia spoke about dress as if it was the very object of their lives; for each dreaded the introduction of more serious subjects; Cynthia more for Molly than herself.  Only when the carriage was announced, and Molly was preparing to go downstairs, Cynthia said,—­

‘I am not going to thank you, Molly, or to tell you how I love you.’

‘Don’t,’ said Molly, ‘I can’t bear it.’

’Only you know you’re to be my first visitor, and if you wear brown ribbons to a green gown, I’ll turn you out of the house!’ So they parted.  Mr. Gibson was there in the hall to hand Molly in.  He had ridden hard; and was now giving her two or three last injunctions as to her health.

‘Think of us on Thursday,’ said he.  ’I declare I don’t know which of her three lovers she may not summon at the very last moment to act the part of bridegroom.  I’m determined to be surprised at nothing; and will give her away with a good grace to whoever comes.’

They drove away, and until they were out of sight of the house, Molly had enough to do to keep returning the kisses of the hand wafted to her by her stepmother out of the drawing-room window, while at the same time her eyes were fixed on a white handkerchief fluttering out of the attic from which she herself had watched Roger’s departure nearly two years before.  What changes time had brought!

When Molly arrived at the Towers she was convoyed into Lady Cumnor’s presence by Lady Harriet.  It was a mark of respect to the lady of the house, which the latter knew that her mother would expect; but she was anxious to get it over, and take Molly up into the room which she had been so busy in arranging for her.  Lady Cumnor was, however, very kind, if not positively gracious.