Edmund smiled, and perhaps he was 'choked with gladness' beyond the power of speech; for the two cousins only proceeded to shake hands again. The next thing that was said was after an interval. 'Marian, you remember our bargain six years ago? Have you grown so very fond of the Lyddells as to repent of it?'
'O, Edmund, you have not thought of that?'
'Have not we? It was one of the first things we did think of.'
'I don't think I can bear to hear of much more happiness,' said Marian, in almost a crying voice. 'I am so glad for you that I can't be glad for myself yet. I can't take it all in; it is too good to be true!'
'Indeed it does seem so. But you agree? Agnes said I must make you agree first of all.'
'Don't I? Only I want to enjoy it for you,--it is so beyond everything!'
'Well, wasn't I a wise man to say I would not miss the pleasure of telling you myself?'
'Then do tell me; do let us be rational, if we can. Then you came here from Fern Torr?'
'Yes. Did you not know that?'
'No. I did not hear where you wrote from. How long were you there?'
'I only went on Wednesday.'
'Then it was only one whole day! How much you must have had to settle!'
'So much, that we settled scarcely anything.'
'Then you don't know when it is to be?'
'No, and Mrs. Wortley talks of having time,--poor Mrs. Wortley, but I don't think I shall take her away far; I have some notion of looking out for some place close at hand.'
'Just what we settled long ago. But O! begin and tell me all, Edmund,--as much as you like to tell me, at least. I want to know how you first came to think of it.' Then, as he smiled, she added, 'I mean, how long you have been thinking of it.'
'If you mean how long with any hope, only since I knew of good aunt Jessie's consideration for me. How long it has been in my mind I cannot tell; certainly before I went to Africa. You see, Marian,' he continued, as if he was apologising, 'it was this which made me think it advisable for me to go, though, as I see now, it was not at all good for Gerald.'
'What,--you mean--I am not sure that I understand--'
'Don't you see, Marian, feeling as I did, and knowing how out of the question it was for a penniless man like me, to think of marrying,--Agnes so young too, and I with everything to draw me to what had been my only home,--there was nothing to be done but to keep out of the way, to guard me against myself; and that was easier with seas between. I don't know whether I did right or not, but I hoped I did, because it cost me something; yet it was a forsaking of Gerald which might have done much harm, though I hope it has not, as it has turned out.'
'I see it all!' said Marian, resting there, because she had not a word with which to express her honour of his noble conduct.
'You will forgive me now,' he added, with a smile, 'for what you thought my neglect of home.'
'I am only afraid I must often have given you a great deal of pain,' she almost whispered.
'Never, except when I thought it right to silence you. It was only too delightful to hear their very names. You might well tell me that she had grown prettier than ever.'
