"No. He is a great deal out—almost constantly, I may say. I had no idea that I should see so little of him. A doctor's wife leads a very solitary life, Mr. Preston!"
"You can hardly call it solitary, I should think, when you have such a companion as Miss Gibson always at hand," said he, bowing to Molly.
"Oh, but I call it solitude for a wife when her husband is away. Poor Mr. Kirkpatrick was never happy unless I always went with him;—all his walks, all his visits, he liked me to be with him. But, somehow, Mr. Gibson feels as if I should be rather in his way."
"I don't think you could ride pillion behind him on Black Bess, mamma," said Molly. "And unless you could do that, you could hardly go with him in his rounds up and down all the rough lanes."
"Oh! but he might keep a brougham! I've often said so. And then I could use it for visiting in the evenings. Really it was one reason why I didn't go to the Hollingford Charity Ball. I couldn't bring myself to use the dirty fly from the 'George.' We really must stir papa up against next winter, Molly; it will never do for you and—"
She pulled herself up suddenly, and looked furtively at Mr. Preston to see if he had taken any notice of her abruptness. Of course he had, but he was not going to show it. He turned to Molly, and said,—
"Have you ever been to a public ball yet, Miss Gibson?"
"No!" said Molly.
"It will be a great pleasure to you when the time comes."
"I'm not sure. I shall like it if I have plenty of partners; but I'm afraid I shan't know many people."