So Molly did not say another word till they reached home; and then, comparatively at ease, inasmuch as no one perceived how late was their return to the house, each of the girls went up into their separate rooms, to rest and calm themselves before dressing for the necessary family gathering at dinner.Molly felt as if she were 'so miserably shaken that she could not have gone down at all, if her own interests only were at stake.She sate by her dressing-table, holding her head in her hands, her candles unlighted, and the room in soft darkness, trying to still her beating heart, and to recall all she had heard, and what would be its bearing on the lives of those whom she loved.Roger.Oh, Roger! - far away in mysterious darkness of distance - loving as he did (ah, that was love! That was the love to which Cynthia had referred, as worthy of the name!) and the object of his love claimed by another - false to one she must be! How could it be? What would he think and feel if ever he came to know it? It was of no use trying to imagine his pain - that could do no good.What lay before Molly was, to try and extricate Cynthia, if she could help her by thought, or advice, or action; not to weaken herself by letting her fancy run into pictures of possible, probable suffering.
When she went into the drawing-room before dinner, she found Cynthia and her mother tête-?tête.There were candles in the room, but they were not lighted, for the wood-fire blazed merrily if fitfully, and they were a lewaiting Mr Gibson's return, which might be expected at any minute.Cynthia sate in the shade, so it was only by her sensitive ear that Molly could judge of her state of composure.Mrs Gibson was telling some of her day's adventures - whom she had found at home in the calls she had been making; who had been out; and the small pieces of news she had heard.To Molly's quick sympathy Cynthia's voice sounded languid and weary, but she made all the proper replies, and expressed the proper interest at the right places, and Molly came to the rescue, chiming in, with an effort, it is true; but Mrs Gibson was not one to notice slight shades or differences in manner.When Mr Gibson returned, the relative positions of the parties were altered.It was Cynthia now who raised herself into liveliness, partly from a consciousness that he would have noticed any depression, and partly because, from her cradle to her grave, Cynthia was one of those natural coquettes, who instinctively bring out all their prettiest airs and graces in order to stand well with any man, young or old, who may happen to be present.She listened to his remarks and stories with all the sweet intentness of happier days, till Molly, silent and wondering, could hardly believe that the Cynthia before her was the same girl as she who was sobbing and crying as if her heart would break not two hours before.