scrawl.
'Your affectionate cousin,
'CLARA LYDDELL.'
As soon as Marian read this letter, she gave it to Edmund, saying, 'I think I had better go home.'
'O, Marian, you must not cheat us!' cried Agnes.
'I think they would be very glad of you,' said Edmund, and withal Marian's mind was made up, and she withstood all the persuasions of Gerald and Agnes that it was nothing--nonsense--only Clara's dismality--they would laugh at her for coming for nothing. No; Marian knew she was no nurse, but she could not bear to think of Lionel left to his blindness and helplessness, still less of Caroline, ill, and with no one to cheer her. She was sure she was wanted by those two at least, and she resolved that she would be at Oakworthy to-morrow evening, wrote notice of her intention to Clara, and prepared for her journey, giving up that precious last week, so prized because it was the last. She could go alone with her maid; there was no use in spoiling Gerald's holidays; so he would stay for all the delights that she gave up, ruining all by her absence, as every one declared.
Agnes grumbled and scolded her to her face, but made up for it out of hearing, by admiring her more than ever. Mr. and Mrs. Wortley gave her silent approval, and the boys would not wish her a pleasant journey. She was ready early the next morning, and once more left Fern Torr, bright with the promise that, when she was there next, it would be no more a guest.
She prosperously arrived at the station nearest Oakworthy, and soon saw the servant waiting for her. 'Is Miss Lyddell better?'
'A little better than last night, ma'am. Mr. Lionel is in the carriage.'
Marian had not at all expected any one to meet her, especially Lionel, coming all this distance in silence and darkness. She hastened to the carriage, and saw him leaning forward, listening for her. His face lighted up at her, 'Well, Lionel,' and he fairly hurt her, by the tightness of his grasp, when once he had met her hand. 'So, you're come! What a time it has been since you went! Now you are come, I don't care.'
'And how are you?' she asked anxiously.
'Bad enough to be going back to the oculist next week,' he answered; 'I can't even see the light.'
A long silence; then, 'How is Caroline?'
'Pretty much the same; it is a bad, feverish cold, and shocking throat. She breathes as if she was half stifled, and can hardly speak.'
'I suppose she has Mr. Wells?'
'Yes, two or three times a day,'
'And Mrs. Lyddell is better?'
'Better, but not out of her room. It has been a tolerable state of things of late. Not a creature to speak to, except, now and then, Clara coming down to maunder and sigh over all she has to do, and my father, who has been thoroughly in a rage about Elliot. Do you know about all that, Marian?'
'No,' she answered.
'It is out now, why he was so set upon Caroline's marriage, he had got Faulkner to back a bill for him; you don't know what that means, I suppose,' said Lionel, with his old superior manner;--'made him engage that the money Elliot borrowed should be paid. There was to be some shuffle between them about her fortune it seems; so after the engagement was off, when the bill became due, Faulkner sent the holder of it to my father for the money and the news of this set on all the other creditors. No end of bills coming in, and he has been pretty nearly crazy among them; says we shall be beggars, and I don't know what all! I vow, it is my old plan coming right!' cried Lionel vehemently. 'If the man in London can but set my eyes to rights, I'd be off to Australia to-morrow, instead of staying here to make all worse. Well, it's no use
