others telling her of small occurrences which he thought might interest
her.

'So you don't know my boys, even by sight. I should have thought you
would have done, for they are fond enough of riding into Hollingford;
and I know Roger has often enough been to borrow books from your
father. Roger is a scientific sort of a fellow. Osborne is clever, like
this mother. I should not wonder if he published a book some day.
You're not counting right, Miss Gibson. Why, I could cheat you as
easily as possible.' And so on, till the butler came in with a solemn
look, placed a large prayer-book before his master, who huddled the
cards away in a hurry, as if caught in an incongruous employment; and
then the maids and men trooped in to prayers--the windows were still
open, and the sounds of the solitary corncrake, and the owl hooting in
the trees, mingled with the words spoken. Then to bed; and so ended the
day.

Molly looked out of her chamber window--leaning on the sill, and
snuffing up the night odours of the honeysuckle. The soft velvet
darkness hid everything that was at any distance from her; although she
was as conscious of their presence as if she had seen them.

'I think I shall be very happy here,' was in Molly's thoughts, as she
turned away at length, and began to prepare for bed. Before long the
squire's words, relating to her father's second marriage, came across
her, and spoilt the sweet peace of her final thoughts. 'Who could he
have married?' she asked herself. 'Miss Eyre? Miss Browning? Miss
Phoebe? Miss Goodenough?' One by one, each of these was rejected for
sufficient reasons. Yet the unsatisfied question rankled in her mind,
and darted out of ambush to disturb her dreams.