of perfect innocence; but the inquiries (although she read their motive, and knew that they arose from no especial suspicion of her conduct, but only that Mrs Gibson might be able to say that she looked well after her stepdaughter), chafed her inexpressibly.  Very often she did not go out at all, sooner than have to give a plan of her intended proceedings, when perhaps she had no plan at all, only thought of wandering out at her own sweet will, and of taking pleasure in the bright solemn fading of the year.  It was a very heavy time for Molly,—­ zest and life had fled; and left so many of the old delights mere shells of seeming.  She thought it was that her youth had fled; at nineteen!  Cynthia was no longer the same, somehow; and perhaps Cynthia’s change would injure her in the distant Roger’s opinion.  Her stepmother seemed almost kind in comparison with Cynthia’s withdrawal of her heart; Mrs. Gibson worried her to be sure, with all these forms of watching over her; but in all her other ways, she, at any rate, was the same.  Yet Cynthia herself, seemed anxious and care-worn, though she would not speak of her anxieties to Molly.  And then the poor girl in her goodness would blame herself for feeling Cynthia’s change of manner; for as Molly said to herself, ’If it is hard work for me to help always fretting after Roger, and wondering where he is, and how he is; what must it be for her?’

One day Mr. Gibson came in, bright and swift.

‘Molly,’ said he, ‘where’s Cynthia?’

‘Gone out to do some errands—­’

’Well, it’s a pity—­but never mind.  Put on your bonnet and cloak as fast as you can.  I’ve had to borrow old Simpson’s dogcart,—­there would have been room both for you and Cynthia; but as it is, you must walk back alone.  I’ll drive you as far on the Barford Road as I can, and then you must jump down.  I can’t take you on to Broadhurst’s, I may be kept there for hours.’

Mrs. Gibson was out of the room; out of the house it might be, for all Molly cared, now she had her father’s leave and command.  Her bonnet and cloak were on in two minutes, and she was sitting by her father’s side, the back scat shut up, and the light weight going swiftly and merrily bumping over the stone-paved lanes.

‘Oh, this is charming,’ said Molly, after a toss-up on her seat from a tremendous bump.

‘For youth, but not for crabbed age,’ said Mr. Gibson.  ’My bones are getting rheumatic, and would rather go smoothly over macadamized streets.’

’That’s treason to this lovely view and this fine pure air, papa.  Only I don’t believe you.’

’Thank you.  As you are so complimentary, I think I shall put you down at the foot of this hill; we have passed the second milestone from Hollingford.’

’Oh, let me just go up to the top!  I know we can see the blue range of the Malverns from it, and Dorrimer Hall among the woods; the horse will want a minute’s rest, and then I will get down without a word.’