"Yes; only I don't worry him with these things; it's better to write him merry letters, and cheer him up among the black folk. You repeated 'Ever married,' a little while ago; do you know, Molly, I don't think I ever shall be married to him? I don't know why, but I have a strong presentiment, so it's just as well not to tell him all my secrets, for it would be awkward for him to know them if it never came off!"
Molly dropped her work, and sat silent, looking into the future; at length she said, "I think it would break his heart, Cynthia!"
"Nonsense. Why, I'm sure that Mr. Coxe came here with the intention of falling in love with you—you needn't blush so violently. I'm sure you saw it as plainly as I did, only you made yourself disagreeable, and I took pity on him, and consoled his wounded vanity."
"Can you—do you dare to compare Roger Hamley to Mr. Coxe?" asked Molly, indignantly.
"No, no, I don't!" said Cynthia in a moment. "They are as different as men can be. Don't be so dreadfully serious over everything, Molly. You look as oppressed with sad reproach, as if I had been passing on to you the scolding your father gave me."
"Because I don't think you value Roger as you ought, Cynthia!" said Molly stoutly, for it required a good deal of courage to force herself to say this, although she could not tell why she shrank so from speaking.
"Yes, I do! It's not in my nature to go into ecstasies, and I don't suppose I shall ever be what people call 'in love.' But I am glad he loves me, and I like to make him happy, and I think him the best and most agreeable man I know, always excepting your father when he isn't angry with me. What can I say more, Molly? would you like me to say I think him handsome?"
"I know most people think him plain, but—"
"Well, I'm of the opinion of most people then, and small blame to them. But I like his face—oh, ten thousand times better than Mr. Preston's handsomeness!" For the first time during the conversation Cynthia seemed thoroughly in earnest. Why Mr. Preston was introduced neither she nor Molly knew; it came up and out by a sudden impulse; but a fierce look came into the eyes, and the soft lips contracted themselves as Cynthia named his name. Molly had noticed this look before, always at the mention of this one person.
"Cynthia, what makes you dislike Mr. Preston so much?"