Molly had her out-of-door things on, and she crept away as she was bidden;she lifted her heavy weight of heart and body along till she came to a field, not so very far off, - where she had sought the comfort of loneliness ever since she was a child; and there, under the hedge-bank, she sate down, burying her face in her hands, and quivering all over as she thought of Cynthia's misery, that she might not try to touch or assuage.She never knew how long she sate there, but it was long past lunch-time when once again she stole up to her room.The door opposite was open wide, - Cynthia had quitted the chamber.Molly arranged her dress and went down into the drawing-room.Cynthia and her mother sate there in the stern repose of an armed neutrality.Cynthia's face looked made of stone, for colour and rigidity; but she was netting away as if nothing unusual had occurred.
Not so Mrs Gibson: her face bore evident marks of tears, and she looked up and greeted Molly's entrance with a faint smiling notice.Cynthia went on as though she had never heard the opening of the door, or felt the approaching sweep of Molly's dress.Molly took up a book, - not to read, but to have the semblance of some employment which should not necessitate conversation.There was no measuring the duration of the silence that ensued.Molly grew to fancy it was some old enchantment that weighed upon their tongues and kept them still.At length Cynthia spoke, but she had to begin again before her words came clear, - 'I wish you both to know that henceforward all is at an end between me and Roger Hamley.' Molly's book went down upon her knees; with open eyes and lips she strove to draw in Cynthia's meaning.Mrs Gibson spoke querulously, as if injured, - 'I could have understood this if it had happened three months ago, - when you were in London; but now it's just nonsense, Cynthia, and you know you don't mean it!' Cynthia did not reply; nor did the resolute look on her face change when Molly spoke at last, - 'Cynthia - think of him! It will break his heart!' 'No!' said Cynthia, 'it will not.But even if it did, I cannot help it.' 'All this talk will soon pass away!' said Molly; 'and when he knows the truth from your own self -- ' 'From my own self he shall never hear it.I do not love him well enough to go through the shame of having to excuse myself, - to plead that he will reinstate me in his good opinion.Confession may be - well! I can never believe it pleasant - but it may be an ease of mind if one makes it to some people, - to some person, - and it may not be a mortification to sue for forgiveness.I cannot tell.All I know is, - and I know it clearly, and will act upon it inflexibly - that -- ' And there she stopped short.'I think you might finish your sentence,' said her mother, after a silence of five seconds.'I cannot bear to exculpate myself to Roger Hamley.I will not submit to his thinking less well of me than he has done, - however foolish his judgment may have been.I would rather never see him again, for these two reasons.
And the truth is, I do not love him.I like him, I respect him; but I will not marry him.I have written to tell him so.That was merely as a relief to myself, for when or where the letter will reach him -- And I have written to old Mr Hamley.The relief is the one good thing come out of it all.
It is such a comfort to feel free again.It wearied me so to think of straining up to his goodness."Extenuate my conduct!"' she concluded, quoting Mr Gibson's words.Yet when Mr Gibson came home, after a silent dinner, she asked to speak with him, alone, in his consulting-room; and there laid bare the exculpation of herself which she had given to Molly many weeks before.When she had ended, she said, - 'And now, Mr Gibson, - I still treat you like a friend, - help me to find some home far away, where all the evil talking and gossip mamma tells me of cannot find me and follow me.It may be wrong to care for people's good opinion, - but it is me, and I cannot alter myself.You, Molly, - all the people in the town, - I have not the patience to live through the nine days' wonder.I want to go away and be a governess.' 'But, my dear Cynthia, - how soon Roger will be back, - a tower of strength.' 'Has not mamma told you I have broken it all off with Roger? I wrote this morning.I wrote to his father.That letter will reach to-morrow.I wrote to Roger.If he ever receives that letter I hope to be far away by that time; in Russia may be.' 'Nonsense.An engagement like yours cannot be broken off, except by mutual consent.You have only given others a great deal of pain, without freeing yourself.Nor will you wish it in a month's time.When you come to think calmly you will be glad to think of the stay and support of such a husband as Roger.You have been in fault, and have acted foolishly at first, -perhaps wrongly afterwards; but you don't want your husband to think you faultless?' 'Yes, I do,' said Cynthia.'At any rate, my lover must think me so.And it is just because I do not love him even as so light a thing as I could love, that I feel that I could not bear to have to tell him I'm sorry, and stand before him like a chidden child to be admonished and forgiven.' 'But here you are, just in such a position before me, Cynthia!' 'Yes! but I love you better than Roger; I have often told Molly so.And I would have told you, if I had not expected and hoped to leave you all before long.I could see if the recollection of it all came up before your mind; I could see it in your eyes; I should know it by instinct.I have a fine instinct for reading the thoughts of others when they refer to me.