said the squire, dreamily.'I remember - but what's the use of remembering?
It's all over, and Osborne is dead without opening his heart to me.I could have been tender to him, I could.But he'll never know it now!' 'But we can guess what wish he had strongest in his mind at the last, from what we do know of his life.' said Mr Gibson.'What, sir?' said the squire, with sharp suspicion of what was coming.'His wife must have been his last thought, must she not?' 'How do I know she was his wife? Do you think he'd go and marry a French baggage of a servant? It may be all a tale trumped up.' 'Stop, squire.I don't care to defend my daughter's truth or accuracy.
But with the dead man's body lying upstairs - his soul with God - think twice before you say more hasty words, impugning his character; if she was not his wife, what was she?' 'I beg your pardon.I hardly know what I am saying.Did I accuse Osborne?
Oh, my lad, my lad - thou might have trusted thy old dad! He used to call me his "old dad" when he was a little chap not bigger than this,' indicating a certain height with his hand.'I never meant to say he was not - not what one would wish to think him now - his soul with God, as you say very justly - for I am sure it is there - ' 'Well! but, squire,' said Mr Gibson, trying to check the other's rambling, 'to return to his wife -- ' 'And the child,' whispered Molly to her father.Low as the whisper was, it struck on the squire's ear.'What?' said he, turning round to her suddenly, ' - child! You never named that? Is there a child? Husband and father, and I never knew! God bless Osborne's child! I say, God bless it!' He stood up reverently, and the other two instinctively rose.He closed his hands as if in momentary prayer.
Then exhausted he sate down again, and put out his hand to Molly.'You're a good girl.Thank you.Tell me what I ought to do, and I'll do it.' This to Mr Gibson.'I am almost as much puzzled as you are, squire,' replied he.'I fully believe the whole story; but I think there must be some written confirmation of it, which perhaps ought to be found at once, before we act.Most probably this is to be discovered among Osborne's papers.Will you look over them at once? Molly shall return with me, and find the address that Osborne gave her, while you are busy -- ' 'She'll come back again?' said the squire eagerly.'You - she won't leave me to myself?' 'No! She shall come back this evening.I'll manage to send her somehow.
But she has no clothes but the habit she came in, and I want my horse that she rode away upon.' 'Take the carriage,' said the squire.'Take anything.I'll give orders.
You'll come back again, too?' 'No! I'm afraid not, to-day.I'll come to-morrow, early.Molly shall return this evening, whenever it suits you to send for her.' 'This afternoon; the carriage shall be at your house at three.I dare not look at Osborne's - at the papers without one of you with me; and yet Ishall never rest till I know more.' 'I will send the desk in by Robinson before I leave.And - can you give me some lunch before I go?' Little by little he led the squire to cat a morsel or so of food; and so, strengthening him physically, and encouraging him mentally, Mr Gibson hoped that he would begin his researches during Molly's absence.There was something touching in the squire's wistful looks after Molly as she moved about.A stranger might have imagined her to be his daughter instead of Mr Gibson's.The meek, broken-down, considerate ways of the bereaved father never showed themselves more strongly than when he called them back to his chair, out of which he seemed too languid to rise, and said, as if by an after-thought, - 'Give my love to Miss Kirkpatrick; tell her I look upon her as quite one of the family.I shall be glad to see her after - after the funeral.I don't think I can before.' 'He knows nothing of Cynthia's resolution to give up Roger,' said Mr Gibson as they rode away.'I had a long talk with her last night, but she was as resolute as ever.From what your mamma tells me, there is a third lover in London, whom she's already refused.I'm thankful that you've no lover at all, Molly, unless that abortive attempt of Mr Coxe's at an offer, long ago, can be called a lover.' 'I never heard of it, papa,' said Molly.'Oh, no.I forgot.What a fool I was! Why, don't you remember the hurry I was in to get you off to Hamley Hall, the very first time you ever went?
It was all because I got hold of a desperate love-letter from Coxe, addressed to you.' But Molly was too tired to be amused, or even interested.She could not get over the sight of the straight body covered with a sheet, which yet let the outlines be seen, - all that remained of Osborne.Her father had trusted too much to the motion of the ride, and the change of scene from the darkened house.He saw his mistake.'Some one must write to Mrs Osborne Hamley,' said he.'I believe her to have a legal right to the name; but whether or no, she must be told that the father of her child is dead.Shall you do it, or I?' 'Oh, you, please, papa!' 'I will, if you wish, But she may have heard of you as a friend of her dead husband's; while of me - a mere country doctor - it's very probable she has never heard the name.' 'If I ought, I will do it.' Mr Gibson did not like this ready acquiescence, given in so few words, too.'There's Hollingford church-spire,' said she presently, as they drew near the town, and caught a glimpse of the church through the trees.'I think I never wish to go out of sight of it again.' 'Nonsense!' said he.'Why, you've all your travelling to do yet; and if these newfangled railways spread, as they say they will, we shall all be spinning about the world; "sitting on tea-kettles," as Phoebe Browning calls it.Miss Browning wrote such a capital letter of advice to Miss Hornblower.
