'I've had a letter from aunt Kirkpatrick, Cynthia.She sends me my dividends, - your uncle is so busy.But what does she mean by this, Cynthia' (holding out the letter to her, with a certain paragraph indicated by her finger).
Cynthia put her netting on one side, and looked at the writing.Suddenly her face turned scarlet, and then became of a deadly white.She looked at Molly, as if to gain courage from the strong serene countenance.
'It means - mamma, I may as well tell you at once - Mr Henderson offered to me while I was in London, and I refused him.'
'Refused him - and you never told me, but let me hear it by chance!
Really, Cynthia, I think you're very unkind.And pray what made you refuse Mr Henderson? Such a fine young man, - and such a gentleman! Your uncle told me he had a very good private fortune besides.'
'Mamma, do you forget that I have promised to marry Roger Hamley?' said Cynthia quietly.
'No! of course I don't - how can I, with Molly always dinning the word "engagement" into my ears? But really, when one considers all the uncertainties, - and after all it was not a distinct promise, - he seemed almost as if he might have looked forward to something of this sort.'
'Of what sort, mamma?' said Cynthia sharply.
'Why, of a more eligible offer.He must have known you might change your mind, and meet with some one you liked better: so little as you had seen of the world.' Cynthia made an impatient movement, as if to stop her mother.
'I never said I liked him better, - how can you talk so, mamma? I'm going to marry Roger, and there's an end of it.I will not be spoken to about it again.' She got up and left the room.