’I am so sorry to be the cause of detaining you from this little party, but dear papa is so over-anxious about me.  I have always been a kind of pet with gentlemen, and poor Mr. Kirkpatrick never knew how to make enough of me.  But I think Mr. Gibson is even more foolishly fond; his last words were, “Take care of yourself, Hyacinth;” and then he came back again to say, “If you don’t attend to my directions I won’t answer for the consequences.”  I shook my forefinger at him, and said, “Don’t be so anxious, you silly man."’

‘I hope we have done everything he told us to do,’ said Molly.

’Oh yes!  I feel so much better.  Do you know, late as it is, I think you might go to Mrs. Goodenough’s yet?  Maria could take you, and I should like to see you dressed; when one has been wearing dull warm gowns for a week or two one gets quite a craving for bright colours, and evening dress.  So go and get ready, dear, and then perhaps you’ll bring me back some news, for really shut up as I have been with only papa and you for the last fortnight, I’ve got quite moped and dismal, and I can’t bear to keep young people from the gaieties suitable to their age.’

‘Oh, pray, mamma!  I had so much rather not go.’

’Very well! very well!  Only I think it is rather selfish of you, when you see I am so willing to make the sacrifice for your sake.’

‘But you say it is a sacrifice to you, and I don’t want to go.’

’Very well; did I not say you might stop at home; only pray don’t chop logic; nothing is so fatiguing to a sick person.’

Then they were silent for some time.  Mrs. Gibson broke the silence by saying, in a languid voice,—­

‘Can’t you think of anything amusing to say, Molly?’

Molly pumped up from the depths of her mind a few little trivialities which she had nearly forgotten, but she felt that they were anything but amusing, and so Mrs. Gibson seemed to feel them; for presently she said,—­

‘I wish Cynthia was at home.’  And Molly felt it as a reproach to her own dulness.

‘Shall I write to her and ask her to come back?’

’Well, I’m not sure; I wish I knew a great many things.  You’ve not heard anything of poor dear Osborne Hamley lately, have you?’

Remembering her father’s charge not speak of Osborne’s health, Molly made no reply, nor was any needed, for Mrs. Gibson went on thinking aloud,—­

’You see, if Mr. Henderson has been as attentive as he was in the spring—­and the chances about Roger—­I shall be really grieved if anything happens to that young man, uncouth as he is, but it must be owned that Africa is not merely an unhealthy—­it is a savage—­and even in some parts a cannibal country.  I often think of all I’ve read of it in geography books, as I lie awake at night, and if Mr Henderson is really becoming attached!  The future is hidden from us by infinite wisdom, Molly, or else I should like to know it; one would calculate one’s behaviour at the present time so much better if one only knew what events were to come.  But I think, on the whole, we had better not alarm Cynthia.  If we had only known in time we might have planned for her to have come down with Lord Cumnor and my lady.’