Wives and Daughters | Page 8

enough to enable you to walk home. And I've been out for these
three hours trapesing about the grounds till I'm as tired as can be, and
missed my lunch and all.' Then, as if a new idea had struck her, she
said,--'You lie back in that seat for a few minutes, and try to eat the
bunch of grapes, and I'll wait for you, and just be eating a mouthful
meanwhile. You are sure you don't want this chicken?'
Molly did as she was bid, and leant back, picking languidly at the
grapes, and watching the good appetite with which the lady ate up the
chicken and jelly, and drank the glass of wine. She was so pretty and so
graceful in her deep mourning, that even her hurry in eating, as if she
was afraid of some one coming to surprise her in the act, did not keep
her little observer from admiring her in all she did.
'And now, darling, are you ready to go?' said she, when she had eaten
up everything on the tray. 'Oh, come; you have nearly finished your
grapes; that's a good girl. Now, if you will come with me to the side
entrance, I will take you up to my own room, and you shall lie down on
the bed for an hour or two; and if you have a good nap your headache
will be quite gone.'
So they set off, Clare carrying the empty tray, rather to Molly's shame;
but the child had enough work to drag herself along, and was afraid of
offering to do anything more. The 'side entrance' was a flight of steps
leading up from a private flower-garden into a private matted hall, or
ante-room, out of which many doors opened, and in which were
deposited the light garden-tools and the bows and arrows of the young
ladies of the house. Lady Cuxhaven must have seen their approach, for
she met them in this hall as soon as they came in.
'How is she now?' she asked; then glancing at the plates and glasses,
she added, 'Come, I think there can't be much amiss! You're a good old
Clare, but you should have let one of the men fetch that tray in; life in
such weather as this is trouble enough of itself.'
Molly could not help wishing that her pretty companion would have

told Lady Cuxhaven that she herself had helped to finish up the ample
luncheon; but no such idea seemed to come into her mind. She only
said,--'Poor dear! she is not quite the thing yet; has got a headache, she
says. I am going to put her down on my bed, to see if she can get a little
sleep.'
Molly saw Lady Cuxhaven say something in a half-laughing manner to
'Clare,' as she passed her; and the child could not keep from tormenting
herself by fancying that the words spoken sounded wonderfully like
'Over-eaten herself, I suspect.' However, she felt too poorly to worry
herself long; the little white bed in the cool and pretty room had too
many attractions for her aching head. The muslin curtains flapped
softly from time to time in the scented air that came through the open
windows. Clare covered her up with a light shawl, and darkened the
room. As she was going away Molly roused herself to say, 'Please,
ma'am, don't let them go away without me. Please ask somebody to
waken me if I go to sleep. I am to go back with the Miss Brownings.'
'Don't trouble yourself about it, dear; I'll take care,' said Clare, turning
round at the door, and kissing her hand to little anxious Molly. And
then she went away, and thought no more about it. The carriages came
round at half-past four, hurried a little by Lady Cumnor, who had
suddenly become tired of the business of entertaining, and annoyed at
the repetition of indiscriminating admiration.
'Why not have both carriages out, mamma, and get rid of them all at
once?' said Lady Cuxhaven. 'This going by instalments is the most
tiresome thing that could be imagined.' So at last there had been a great
hurry and an unmethodical way of packing off every one at once. Miss
Browning had gone in the chariot (or 'chawyot,' as Lady Cumnor called
it;--it rhymed to her daughter, Lady Hawyot--or Harriet, as the name
was spelt in the _Peerage_), and Miss Phoebe had been speeded along
with several other guests, away in a great roomy family conveyance, of
the kind which we should now call an 'omnibus.' Each thought that
Molly Gibson was with the other, and the truth was, that she lay fast
asleep on Mrs. Kirkpatrick's bed--Mrs. Kirkpatrick nee Clare.
The housemaids came in to arrange the room.