was frivolous and wearisome; how Caroline was cold, incomprehensible, and unsympathetic; how unjust and weak Miss Morley was; how sharp, hasty, and unmotherly she found Mrs. Lyddell; and then, growing more eager, Marian, with tears springing to her eyes, told of the harm the influence of Oakworthy was doing Gerald; his love of the stables, and Saunders' opinion of the company he was likely to meet there. This led her to more of Saunders' communications about the general arrangement of the house, and the want of really earnest care for what is right; further still to what Saunders had told of Elliot and his ways, which were such as to shock her excessively, and yet she had herself heard Mr. Lyddell say that he was a fine spirited fellow!
Edmund was not sorry to find that he had but small space in which to give the reply for which Marian was eagerly looking. He avoided the main subject, and spoke directly to a point on which his little cousin was certainly wrong. 'Well, Marian, who would have thought of your taking to gossiping with servants?' Then, as she looked down, too much ashamed to speak, he added, 'I suppose poor Saunders has not sought for charms at Oakworthy any more than you have.'
'Indeed I do not think I tried to make the worst of it when I came.'
'Is that a confession that you are doing so now?'
'I do not know.'
'Then let us see if you will give the same account to-morrow; I shall ask you whenever I see you particularly amiable. And now I think I have kept you out quite late enough.'
The next day was very pleasant, bright, and frosty; Marian, from having relieved her heart, felt more free and happy, and her lessons went off quickly and smoothly. All went well, even though Edmund was obliged to go and call on a friend at Salisbury instead of coming to walk with her. Her walk with Miss Morley and her cousins was prosperous and pleasant; the boys ran races, and Marian and Clara were allowed to join them without a remonstrance. Marian was running and laughing most joyously, when she was stopped by hearing a horse's feet near her, and looking round saw Edmund returning from his ride. 'May I keep her out a little longer?' said he to Miss Morley, as he jumped off his horse, and Marian came to his side. Miss Morley returned a ready assent, and after disposing of the horse, the two cousins walked on happily together, she telling him some pleasant histories of Gerald and the other little boys, and lamenting the loss that Lionel would be when he went to school. After they had talked over Salisbury Cathedral, and Marian had heard with great interest of Edmund's late employments in Scotland, and all he was to do and see in Africa, and saying much about that never-ending subject, Fern Torr, Edmund thought her so cheerful that he said, 'Well, may I venture to ask your opinion of the people here?'
'I don't know,' said Marian, who was so much ashamed of the accusation of gossiping with Saunders as to be willing to pass over all that had been founded on her information, 'perhaps I did say too much yesterday, and yet I do not know I am sure I should never have chosen them for friends.'
'Perhaps they would return that compliment.'
'Then you really think it is my own fault?'
'No;' (Edmund tried hard to prevent his 'no' from being too emphatic, and forced himself to go on thus) 'I do not suppose it is entirely your fault, but at the same time you do not strike me as a person likely to make friends easily.'
'O, Edmund, I could never bring myself to kiss, and say 'dearest' and 'darling,' and all that, like Clara.'
'There is the thing,' said Edmund; 'not that it is wrong to dislike it, not that I could ever imagine your doing any thing like it;' and, indeed, the idea seemed so preposterous, that both the cousins laughed; 'but the disposition is not one likely to be over and above prepossessing to strangers.'
'You mean that I am disagreeable?'
'No, far from it. I only mean that you are chilly, and make almost all who come near you the same towards you.'
'I cannot help it,' said Marian.
'Yes, you could in time, if you did not fairly freeze yourself by constant dwelling on their worst points. Make the best of them with all