When they went in, Gerald told Saunders the whole adventure; and she, who at Fern Torr had been inclined to the same opinion as Miss Morley, and had often sighed and declared it to be unlike young ladies when Marian and Agnes had played, now agreed with him that it was very hard on Miss Marian not to have a little exercise, lamented that she should always be cooped up in the schoolroom, and declared that there could be no harm in playing with such a little boy as Master Lionel.
The most unpleasant result was, that Miss Morley and the cousins took an impression that Agnes Wortley must be a vulgar romp, and were inclined to think her an unsuitable friend for Marian. Their curiosity was excited by the frequent letters between the two friends. Marian always read those which she received with the utmost eagerness, hardly ever telling any part of their contents, but keeping them to be enjoyed with Gerald in her own room; and half her leisure moments were employed in filling fat, black-edged envelopes, which were sent off at least as often as once a week.
'I wonder what she says about us!' said Clara, one day.
'I don't think it would suit you,' said Caroline; 'I should not think she painted us _couleur de rose_.'
'Except Lionel,' said Clara, 'if their admiration is mutual. But, by the by, Miss Morley, why do you not desire to see her letters? You always look at mine.'
'She is not quite in the same situation,' said Miss Morley.
'But could not you?' continued Clara. 'It would be very entertaining only to look for once.'
'And I think it would be only proper,' said Caroline. 'Who knows what she may say of us to these dear friends of hers?'
The subject was not allowed to drop; the girls' curiosity led them to find numerous reasons why their cousin's correspondence should not pass without examination, and Miss Morley found she must either endure their importunity, or yield to it. She was driven to choose the part of the oppressor; and one day, when Clara had been tormenting her more than usual, she addressed Marian, who was folding up a letter. 'I think,' said she, speaking in a timid, deprecating tone--'I think, Marian, if you please, it might be as well, perhaps, if I were sometimes to look over your letters; it has always been the custom here.'
Then; was no encouragement to proceed in the look of blank amazement with which Marian replied, 'Edmund Arundel and Mr. Lyddell both approve of my writing to Agnes Wortley.'
'Ah!' interposed Clara; 'but did they mean that your letters should never be looked over?'
'I heard nothing about it,' said Marian.
'Miss Cameron always looked over mine,' said Caroline.
'I will ask Mr. Lyddell himself as soon as he comes home,' said Marian, determinedly.
There was a pause, but Caroline and Clara did not look satisfied. Miss Morley knew they would leave her no peace if she desisted, and she went on,--'I wish I could sometimes see a proof of willingness to yield.'
Marian was out of patience, and putting her letter into the desk, locked it up; and Caroline laughingly remarked, 'Really, there must be some treason in that letter!' If the observation had been taken as it was meant, all would have been well; but Marian bit her lip with an air that convinced the sisters that Caroline had hit the mark; and their glances stimulated Miss Morley to say, as decidedly as she could, 'Marian, your present conduct convinces me that it is desirable that I should see that letter.'
Marian's dark eyes gave one indignant flash, as she proudly drew up her head, opened her desk, laid her letter on the table before Miss Morley, and slowly walked out of the room; but as soon as she had shut the door, she ran at full speed along the passage to her own room, where, throwing herself on the bed, she gave way to a fit of violent weeping, and sobs which shook her whole frame. Proud, passionate feelings at first almost choked her, and soon these were followed by a flood of the bitter tears of loneliness and bereavement. 'Who would have dared insult her thus, had her father and mother been living?' and for a minute her agony for
