remembering himself, but not before Molly had begun to feel very hot,
he said,--

'Why, God bless my soul, I'd quite forgotten you; you're Miss Gibson,
Gibson's daughter, aren't you? Come to pay us a visit? I'm sure I'm
very glad to see you, my dear.'

By this time, they had met in the middle of the room, and he was
shaking Molly's hand with vehement friendliness, intended to make up
for his not knowing her at first.

'I must go and dress, though,' he said, looking at his soiled gaiters.
'Madam likes it. It's one of her fine London ways, and she's broken me
into it at last. Very good plan, though, and quite right to make
oneself fit for ladies' society. Does your father dress for dinner,
Miss Gibson?' He did not stay to wait for her answer, but hastened away
to perform his _toilette_.

They dined at a small table in a great large room. There were so few
articles of furniture in it, and the apartment itself was so vast, that
Molly longed for the snugness of the home dining-room; nay, it is to be
feared that, before the stately dinner at Hamley Hall came to an end,
she even regretted the crowded chairs and tables, the hurry of eating,
the quick unformal manner in which everybody seemed to finish their
meal as fast as possible, and to return to the work they had left. She
tried to think that at six o'clock all the business of the day was
ended, and that people might linger if they chose. She measured the
distance from the sideboard to the table with her eye, and made
allowances for the men who had to carry things backwards and forwards;
but, all the same, this dinner appeared to her a wearisome business,