Pray call her Cynthia; she would be quite hurt at such a formal name as Miss Kirkpatrick from you.' 'Cynthia seems to me such an out-of-the-way name, only fit for poetry, not for daily use.' 'It is mine,' said Mrs Kirkpatrick, in a plaintive tone of reproach.'Iwas christened Hyacinth, and her poor father would have called her after me.I'm sorry you don't like it.' Mr Gibson did not know what to say.He was not quite prepared to plunge into the directly personal style.While he was hesitating, she went on, - 'Hyacinth Clare! Once upon a time I was quite proud of my pretty name;and other people thought it pretty, too.' 'I've no doubt - ' Mr Gibson began; and then stopped.'Perhaps I did wrong in yielding to his wish, to have her called by such a romantic name.It may excite prejudice against her in some people; and, poor child! she will have enough to struggle with.A young daughter is a great charge, Mr Gibson, especially when there is only one parent to look after her.' 'You are quite right,' said he, recalled to the remembrance of Molly; 'though I should have thought that a girl who is so fortunate as to have a mother could not feel the loss of her father so acutely as one who is motherless must suffer from her deprivation.' 'You are thinking of your own daughter.It was careless of me to say what I did.Dear child! how well I remember her sweet little face as she lay sleeping on my bed.I suppose she is nearly grown-up now.She must be near my Cynthia's age.How I should like to see her!' 'I hope you will.I should like you to see her.I should like you to love my poor little Molly, - to love her as your own - ' He swallowed down something that rose in his throat, and was nearly choking him.'Is he going to offer? Is he?' she wondered; and she began to tremble in the suspense before he next spoke.'Could you love her as your daughter? Will you try? Will you give me the right of introducing you to her as her future mother; as my wife?' There! he had done it - whether it was wise or foolish - he had done it;but he was aware that the question as to its wisdom came into his mind the instant that the words were said past recall.She hid her face in her hands.'Oh! Mr Gibson,' she said; and then, a little to his surprise, and a great deal to her own, she burst into hysterical tears: it was such a wonderful relief to feel that she need not struggle any more for a livelihood.'My dear - my dearest,' said he, trying to soothe her with word and caress;but, just at the moment, uncertain what name he ought to use.After her sobbing had abated a little, she said herself, as if understanding his difficulty, - 'Call me Hyacinth - your own Hyacinth.I can't bear "Clare," it does so remind me of being a governess, and those days are all past now.' 'Yes; but surely no one can have been more valued, more beloved than you have been in this family at least.' 'Oh, yes! they have been very good.But still one has always had to remember one's position.' 'We ought to tell Lady Cumnor,' said he, thinking, perhaps, more of the various duties which lay before him, in consequence of the step he had just taken, than of what his future bride was saying.'You'll tell her, won't you?' said she, looking up in his face with beseeching eyes.'I always like other people to tell her things, and then I can see how she takes them.' 'Certainly! I will do whatever you wish.Shall we go and see if she is awake now?' 'No! I think not.I had better prepare her.You will come to-morrow, won't you? and you will tell her then.' 'Yes; that will be best.I ought to tell Molly first.She has the right to know.I do hope you and she will love each other dearly.' 'Oh, yes! I'm sure we shall.Then you'll come to-morrow and tell Lady Cumnor?
And I'll prepare her.' 'I don't see what preparation is necessary; but you know best, my dear.
When can we arrange for you and Molly to meet?' Just then a servant came in, and the pair started apart.'Her ladyship is awake, and wishes to see Mr Gibson.' They both followed the man upstairs; Mrs Kirkpatrick trying hard to look as if nothing had happened, for she particularly wished 'to prepare' Lady Cumnor; that is to say, to give her version of Mr Gibson's extreme urgency, and her own coy unwillingness.But Lady Cumnor had observant eyes in sickness as well as in health.She had gone to sleep with the recollection of the passage in her husband's letter full in her mind, and, perhaps, it gave a direction to her wakening ideas.'I'm glad you're not gone, Mr Gibson.I wanted to tell you -- What's the matter with you both? What have you been saying to Clare? I'm sure something has happened.' There was nothing for it, in Mr Gibson's opinion, but to make a clean breast of it, and tell her ladyship all.He turned round, and took hold of Mrs Kirkpatrick's hand, and said out straight, 'I have been asking Mrs Kirkpatrick to be my wife, and to be a mother to my child; and she has consented.Ihardly know how to thank her enough in words.' 'Umph! I don't see any objection.I dare say you'll be very happy.I'm very glad of it! Here! shake hands with me, both of you.' Then laughing a little, she added, 'It does not seem to me that any exertion has been required on my part.' Mr Gibson looked perplexed at these words.Mrs Kirkpatrick reddened.'Did she not tell you? Oh, then, I must.It's too good a joke to be lost, especially as everything has ended so well.When Lord Cumnor's letter came this morning - this very morning - I gave it to Clare to read aloud to me, and I saw she suddenly came to a full stop, where no full stop could be, and I thought it was something about Agnes, so I took the letter and read - stay! I'll read the sentence to you.Where's the letter, Clare?
