It was always Lady Cumnor’s habit to snub those she loved best. Her husband was perpetually snubbed by her, yet she missed him now that he was later than usual, and professed not to want her tea; but they all knew that it was only because he was not there to hand it to her, and be found fault with for his invariable stupidity in forgetting that she liked to put sugar in before she took any cream. At length he burst in:—
‘I beg your pardon, my lady,—I’m later than I should have been, I know. Why haven’t you had your tea yet?’ he exclaimed, bustling about to get the cup for his wife.
‘You know I never take cream before I’ve sweetened it,’ said she, with even more emphasis on the ‘never’ than usual.
‘To be sure! What a simpleton I am! I think I might have remembered it by this time. You see I met old Sheepshanks, and that’s the reason of it.’
‘Of your handing me the cream before the sugar?’ asked his wife. It was one of her grim jokes.
‘No, no! ha, ha! You’re better this evening, I think, my dear. But, as I was saying, Sheepshanks is such an eternal talker, there’s no getting away from him, and I had no idea it was so late!’
‘Well, I think the least you can do is to tell us something of Mr. Sheepshanks’ conversation now you have torn yourself away from him.’
‘Conversation! did I call it conversation? I don’t think I said much. I listened. He really has always a great deal to say. More than Preston, for instance. And, by the way, he was telling me something about Preston;—old Sheepshanks thinks he’ll be married before long,—he says there’s a great deal of gossip going on about him and Gibson’s daughter. They’ve been caught meeting in the park, and corresponding, and all that kind of thing that is likely to end in a marriage.’
‘I shall be very sorry,’ said Lady Harriet. ‘I always liked that girl; and I can’t bear papa’s model land-agent.’
‘I dare say it’s not true,’ said Lady Cumnor, in a very audible aside to Lady Harriet. ‘Papa picks up stories one day to contradict them the next.’
‘Ah, but this did sound like truth. Sheepshanks said all the old ladies in the town had got hold of it, and were making a great scandal out of it.’
‘I don’t think it does sound quite a nice story. I wonder what Clare could be doing to allow such goings on,’ said Lady Cuxhaven.
‘I think it’s much more likely that Clare’s own daughter—that pretty pawky Miss Kirkpatrick—is the real heroine of this story,’ said Lady Harriet. ‘She always looks like a heroine of genteel comedy; and those young ladies were capable of a good deal of innocent intriguing, if I remember rightly. Now little Molly Gibson has a certain gaucheriedu about her which would disqualify her at once from any clandestine proceedings. Besides, “clandestine”! why, the child is truth itself. Papa, are you sure Mr. Sheepshanks said it was Miss Gibson that was exciting Hollingford scandal? Wasn’t it Miss Kirkpatrick? The notion of her and Mr. Preston making a match of it doesn’t sound so incongruous; but if it’s my little friend Molly, I’ll go to church and forbid the banns.’1
‘Really, Harriet, I can’t think what always makes you take such an interest in all these petty Hollingford affairs.’
‘Mamma, it’s only tit for tat. They take the most lively interest in all our sayings and doings. If I were going to be married, they would want to know every possible particular,—when we first met, what we first said to each other, what I wore, and whether he offered by letter or in person. I’m sure those good Miss Brownings were wonderfully well-informed as to Mary’s methods of managing her nursery, and educating her girls; so it’s only a proper return of the compliment to want to know on our side how they are going on. I’m quite of papa’s faction. I like to hear all the local gossip.’
‘Especially when it is flavoured with a spice of scandal and impropriety, as in this case,’ said Lady Cumnor, with the momentary bitterness of a convalescent invalid. Lady Harriet coloured with annoyance. But then she rallied her courage, and said with more gravity than before;—
‘I am really interested in this story about Molly Gibson, I own. I both like and respect her; and I do not like to hear her name coupled with that of Mr. Preston. I can’t help fancying papa has made some mistake.’
‘No, my dear. I’m sure I’m repeating what I heard. I’m sorry I said anything about it, if it annoys you or my lady there. Sheepshanks did say Miss Gibson, though, and he went on to say it was a pity the girl had got herself so talked about; for it was the way they had carried on that gave rise to all the chatter. Preston himself was a very fair match for her, and nobody could have objected to it. But I’ll try and find a more agreeable piece of news. Old Margery at the lodge is dead; and they don’t know where to find some one to teach clear-starching at your school; and Robert Hall made forty pounds last year by his apples.’ So they drifted away from Molly and her affairs; only Lady Harriet kept turning what she had heard over in her own mind with interest and wonder.