prolonged because the squire liked it, for Mrs. Hamley seemed tired
out. She ate even less than Molly, and sent for fan and smelling--
bottle to amuse herself with, until at length the table-cloth was
cleared away, and the dessert was put upon a mahogany table, polished
like a looking-glass.

The squire had hitherto been too busy to talk, except about the
immediate concerns of the table, and one or two of the greatest breaks
to the usual monotony of his days; a monotony in which he delighted,
but which sometimes became oppressive to his wife. Now, however,
peeling his orange, he turned to Molly,--

'To-morrow you'll have to do this for me Miss Gibson.'

'Shall I? I'll do it to-day, if you like, sir.'

'No; to-day I shall treat you as a visitor, with all proper ceremony.
To-morrow I shall send you errands, and call you by your Christian
name.'

'I shall like that,' said Molly.

'I was wanting to call you something less formal than Miss Gibson,'
said Mrs. Hamley.

'My name is Molly. It is an old-fashioned name, and I was christened
Mary. But papa likes Molly.'

'That's right. Keep to the good old fashions, my dear.'