I've been rereading Jane Eyre a lot, and I put a couple Jane Eyre's in there instead of Molly when I first upload this chapter. Ugh. I think I've found them all. I won't be able to update for more than a week, which makes me sad. :(

Two more days passed without major incidents, and the guests were set to leave Thornfield in about a week. Molly was glad they would be going soon, but as Sherlock was likely to leave with them, the parting would be bittersweet. The only strange thing was instead of ignoring Molly, Irene sometimes stared at her like some sort of interesting bird. The unwanted attention was disconcerting, but Molly did not think much of it.

Molly was up in the schoolroom with Adele working on arithmetic when Mrs. Hudson peeked in and said, "Molly, dear, there's a man come here asking about you."

"I'll be right down." Mrs. Hudson left, and Molly told Adele, "Now try and work problems 14 and 15 while I'm gone."

Adele wrote down the problems and said, "Yes, Miss Molly."

Molly went down the stairs, and saw a short man with a face she vaguely recognized, but couldn't quite put a name to.

He said, "Miss Eyre, I'm Leaven, a coachman from Gateshead. You probably don't remember me but,"

Molly interrupted with a smile. "Of course I remember you, Robert! You used to give me rides on Georgiana's pony. How is Bessie?"

Robert relaxed a bit and said, "Bessie is doing well, Miss Molly. She had a daughter just two months past, and both mother and child are healthy as Miss Georgiana's pony."

"That's wonderful, Robert. But why have you come such a long way to see me? Is the family well?"

"Unfortunately, no." Molly noticed he was dressed entirely in black for the first time. "I'm terribly sorry to inform you that your cousin, John Hooper, has died in his apartments in London."

"How horrible! What happened?"

"You see, Miss Molly, Mr. John has been wild these past few years, getting kicked out of university and all, and he had not been doing well studying law with his uncle."

"Bessie told me he had been doing poorly when she visited me at St. Bart's."

Robert said, "He could hardly have done worse! He associated with the lowest and meanest of men and women, who stole his money, his health, and much of his estate. He got into debt and was jailed twice, and Mrs. Hooper bailed him out each time. But he just went back to his old friends, who tricked him in the most demeaning ways. Mr. John was never the sharpest knife in the drawer. About a month ago, he had the nerve to show up at Gateshead and demand his inheritance from his mother, whose fortune was already deeply diminished by his antics. She refused him any more money, and the next news we had was that he was dead. The coroners in London suspect that it was suicide."

Molly felt that nothing she could say would adequately match the situation, and she remained silent.

Robert continued, "Mrs. Hooper has been ill a long time, with so much stress about Mr. John and possibly going into poverty and loosing the Hooper reputation. The news about Mr. John brought on a stroke, and she has been very ill since, with little hope of recovery. For a few days she could not speak, and even when she did, you couldn't understand what she was trying to say. A week ago, Bessie figured it out that she was saying, "Molly! Molly! Bring me Molly Eyre!" Georgiana and Eliza refused to contact you, but in the past few days, she has been very insistent, and so I was sent. If you go, I should like to start off early tomorrow morning, if I may stay the night here."

Molly thought for a minute, then said, "I think I should go to her. I'll be ready by then, Robert." Molly directed him to the servant's hall, where he would be taken care of, and then set about to preparations. First and foremost, Molly would need Sherlock's approval for such a trip, as well as an advance on her wages, as she had only ten shillings to her name.

She followed the sound of violin and piano to the parlor, where Sherlock was playing a duet with Irene. As the last strain of music faded, Molly screwed up her courage and went right over to Sherlock. "I need to speak with you, sir."

Sherlock nodded and said to John, "Keep the good ladies company while I'm away, would you?"

Sherlock and Molly left the parlor and went out into the hall. "What's this about, Molly?"

Molly took a deep breath. "My aunt is very ill and asks for me; I should like to visit her before she dies."

"Where is this aunt, and who is she?"

"Mrs. Margaret Hooper. She lives about a hundred miles away from Thornfield."

Sherlock looked puzzled. "This is the same aunt who despised you as a child. Why should you want to visit her, after her cruelty towards you, and endure such a long journey?"

"She is one of the few people I consider my family, and it would be wrong to not go to her as she lies in her death-bed."

Sherlock was silent for a minute. "Hooper, Hooper... I've heard the name before, a magistrate, I believe."

"That was my uncle, dead for nearly 20 years, by now."

"And he had several children, a wasteful rascal named John Hooper, I believe, and Georgiana, who was much admired a season or two back."

"Yes, they are my cousins, along with Eliza Hooper. John is dead, believed to have committed suicide, and his death, along with stress he inflicted, brought on a stroke."

"She may be dead before you get to her."

"If I am too late, then so be it. But if I can give her some degree of peace in her final days, then I would not consider my journey wasted."

"How long will you be gone?"

"Not long, I hope."

"Promise me only a week."

Molly sighed. "I do not like to break promises, Sherlock, and I might have to in this case."

"Fine." Sherlock was quiet, then said, "Will they try to make you stay permanently?"

"No sir, and even if they did, I would not stay with them. We have grown apart, and are too different to be happy together."

"How did you receive this news?"

"My cousins sent the coachman to fetch me, and I have known him for as long as I can remember."

Sherlock seemed mollified by her answers, although he still frowned a bit at her leaving. "You must need money, as you will be traveling, and you have not yet been paid. How much do you have, Molly?"

Molly got out her small purse, and showed him her ten shillings. He laughed, then Sherlock produced a pocketbook, and took out a note and handed it to Molly. "This should be more than sufficient for your needs."

Molly looked at the note, then at Sherlock, and back again. It was a fifty pound note, and Molly had never seen or held so much money in her life. "But sir, I am only owed 15 pounds!" She tried to give it back, but Sherlock refused to take it at first.

Sherlock thought for a minute, then said, "I guess so. If I gave you that much, you might never return. Give it back to me." He handed her another note, this one for ten pounds.

"You still owe me five pounds."

"Come back to me, and I'll give you the rest," he said with a smile.

Molly decided to ask something else. "Sherlock, there is another matter of business I would like to address."

"What is it?"

"It has been clear that you and Miss Adler are soon to be married, and in that case, Adele should go away to school." Molly knew that if Sherlock married Irene, it would be in Adele's best interest to go away to school instead of perpetually being under Irene's feet. However, if that happened, Molly would be out of a job.

Sherlock turned serious. "I agree that when I am married, Adele ought to go to a boarding-school, and there is much sense in the suggestion. But what do you plan to do?"

Molly's heart ached to think of it, but Molly said, "Then I should find another situation."

"How do you plan to do that? Through your cousins?"

"No, I doubt they would help me. I will have to advertise."

Sherlock suddenly looked angry. "Who knows what kind of family you will find if you advertise! I will not have you do that, Molly. Give me back some of that money."

"No sir!" Molly hid the money and her purse behind her back.

"But I have need of it!" Sherlock took a step forward, and Molly turned and raced up the stairs. She had always been light on her feet, and she outran Sherlock as she ran upstairs to her bedroom. Once inside, she closed the door and put her lips to the keyhole.

"Sherlock, I promise I will come back."

Sherlock sighed from outside her door and said, "And I promise that once you get back and the wedding is arranged, I will find a boarding school for Adele and another situation for you."

"Very good, sir."

"Will you be down in the parlor after dinner?"

"No, I will be packing and making preparations."

"Then I guess this is goodbye."

Molly opened her door (after she had hid the money, of course) and said, "Goodbye for now, Sherlock."

"Goodbye, Molly Eyre." There was that strange look in his eyes for just a second, then he turned and was gone.

Molly packed her things easily into her suitcase, and carried it downstairs late into the evening, to be ready for their departure early the following morning. Molly heard the click of shoes behind her, and turned to see Irene Adler standing behind her. "I hear you're leaving tomorrow."

"Yes. My dying aunt wishes to see me." Molly stiffened as Irene sauntered a few steps towards her.

Irene looked at her for a minute before saying, "I probably won't see you again before I leave, but I wanted to remind you of something."

"What?"

Irene ran her hand from the top of Molly's shoulder and down the length of her arm to her hand. Irene played with Molly's fingers, saying, "I'm a big believer in symbolism, Miss Eyre. A lot of people are. There's even a case to be made for Sherlock." Molly had no idea what the woman was doing, or trying to get at. "Think about it."

"I don't understand."

"Exactly. Mr. Holmes has a talent for manipulation." She smirked. "I should know. But haven't you noticed anything interesting?"

"Interesting, not really, no." Irene's fingers tightened around Molly's.

"I suppose I have to spell it out for you. Mr. Holmes is not a man of tradition, he has said it himself. I had to practically drag him to the church. And yet," she paused, skimming her long nails against the back of Molly's hand, "Of the three presents he gave, only two were actually worth something. The cards were just a gag. My present and yours. Come now, Miss Eyre. Surely the little governess with the big dreams can figure this out."

Molly felt uneasy with the way Irene was talking to her, still condescending, but with something else Molly couldn't identify. "Sherlock gave you a rose in glass, and he gave me a print of a heart."

Irene released Molly's hand and smirked. "Like I said, you can probably figure it out." Irene walked away.

Molly went upstairs and sat on the end of her bed.

Roses were sweet, usually symbolic of love, but they also had thorns.

Sherlock had given her a heart, one that matched his love for science.

To preserve the rose, it had been put in glass, but left on their own, roses fade and wither.

Hearts beat from from birth until death and are totally necessary for life.

Could it be, like Irene was suggesting, that Sherlock had given her his heart?