'That is one thing we may be sure of,' said Caroline, smiling mournfully. 'Walter is excellent wherever he is; but O, Marian,' continued she, in a voice of inexpressible sadness, 'who would have told me, a year ago, that all I should hear of Walter's ordination would be in the newspaper?'
Marian could make no answer but some sound expressive of sorrow.
'He has only written to me once since--since June!' proceeded Caroline, in the same utterly dejected tone.
Then Walter had remonstrated, which was a great comfort to Marian, by restoring him to his place in her estimation. Still she maintained her expressive silence, and Caroline went on after another interval. 'You and he have been consistent from the first, Marian.'
At that moment Fanny came in, and no more could be said, for Marian was obliged to dress for dinner in a hurry. She took an opportunity of saying to Lionel that evening, something about the pleasure it would give Caroline if he would tell her about his letter.
'What! you have been telling her about it?' said he, in a tone of great vexation; 'that is always the way with women--no trusting them!'
'No, indeed, Lionel, I said not one word; but she saw it was Walter's writing.'
'And you went and told her I could not read it?'
'If she asked me, what could I do but speak the truth?' said Marian gently; but he only made an impatient exclamation.
'I gave not the least hint of what it was about,' added Marian, pleadingly. 'Of course I could not think of that, nor she either; but she looked as if she did so long for some news of Walter: she has not heard from him since the summer.'
'That is her own fault,' said Lionel, in his surly voice.
'That only makes it the worse for her. She is so much out of spirits, Lionel; and if you would only tell her that part about his schools and his lodging, I am sure she would be so much obliged to you.'
'I shan't do any such thing,' was his reply; 'I always keep my letters to myself, and I wish you would not talk about me.'
He turned sharply away, and crossed the room; but his temper was not improved by the consequences of his stumbling over a footstool which had been left full in the way, and in rather a dark place, where it would have been a trap for any one. He recovered in an instant without falling; so that it would not have signified if Mr. and Mrs. Lyddell had not both been startled. The former issued an edict that no stumbling-block should be left in the way, and the latter entered upon an investigation as to who had been the delinquent in the present case, so as to make a great deal of discussion of the very worst kind for Lionel.
Thenceforth the evening was uncomfortable. Marian felt as if she was guilty of all, and was extremely provoked with herself for that blundering way of driving at her point, which made things worse when she most wanted to set them right. She had not comforted Caroline, and she had led poor Lionel to fancy his confidence betrayed, and himself discussed and--as he would call it--gossiped about. No wonder he looked as if she had been injuring him; yet, unjust as it was, she had only her own mal-adroitness to blame. A person of tact would have smoothed it all at once, instead of ruffling everything up.
The tact Marian longed for is a natural talent; the consideration, the delicacy of feeling, that she really had, were a part of her sterling goodness, such as may be acquired by all; and her thorough truth, trustiness, kindness, and above all her single-mindedness, had a value, where she was really known, which weighed down, in the long run, all that was involuntarily against her in manner, and won her not only esteem, but such warm affection, such thorough reliance, as neither she herself, nor those who felt it could fathom. Tact is an excellent thing, but genuine love to our neighbour, seeking to show true kindness, delicacy, and consideration,--striving in fact to do as it would be done by,--is as much more precious, as a spiritual gift is than a natural quality.
That very night, as Marian was sitting in her own room in her dressing-gown, pondering on these unfortunate blunders, there was a knock at her door, and in came Caroline. Sitting down by the fire, she
