but not the right ones; and in came the walking party, with a general exclamation of 'Poor Marian! what, still waiting?' Miss Morley advised her to take a few turns on the terrace, instead of practising that horrid Mozart. Marian disconsolately went down stairs, looking wistfully at the library door as she went past it, and, at a funeral pace, promenaded along the terrace. As she passed beneath the window of Caroline's room, a head was popped out, and a voice sang--
'So, sir, you're come at last, I thought you'd come no more,
I've waited with my bonnet on from one till half-past four!
You know I sit alone--'
At that moment, Edmund himself was seen advancing from the door; the song ended in a scream of laughter and dismay, and the window was hastily shut. Edmund smiled a little, but very little, and said, 'True enough, I am afraid I have used you very ill.'
'Tiresome affairs,' said Marian, looking up into his harassed face. 'I hope they have not made your head ache?'
'I have been worried, but it is not the fault of the affairs, I wish you had not lost your walk,' added he abruptly, beginning to stride on so fast that she could scarcely keep up with him, and apparently forgetting her presence entirely in his own engrossing thoughts. She watched him intently as she toiled to keep by his side, longing, but not daring, to inquire what was the matter. At last he broke out into a muttered exclamation, 'destitute of all principle! all labour in vain!'
'What--how--Mr. Lyddell?'
'This whole day have I been at it, trying to bring him to reason about that farm!'
'What? Did he wish the Dissenter to have it?'
'He saw no objection--treated all I said as the merest moonshine!'
'What? all the annoyance to the Wortleys, and the mischief to the poor people!' exclaimed Marian, 'Why, we should have a meeting-house!'
'Nothing more likely, in the Manor field, and fifty pounds subscribed--all for the sake of toleration and Gerald's interests.'
'You don't mean that he has done it?' said Marian, alarmed, and not quite understanding Edmund's tone of irony, 'Cannot you prevent it?'
'I have prevented It; I said that, with my knowledge of my uncle's intentions, I could never feel justified in consenting to sign the lease.'
'And that puts a stop to it? Oh, I am very glad. But I suppose he was very angry?'
'I never saw a man more so. He said he had no notion of sacrificing Gerald's interest to party feeling.'
'How could it be for Gerald's interest to bring Dissenters to Fern Torr? I am sure it would be very disagreeable. I thought it, was quite wrong to have any dealings with them.'
'He has been popularity-hunting too long to have many scruples on that score.'
Marian could not help triumphing. 'Well, Edmund, I am glad you have come to my opinion at last. I knew you would not like the Lyddells when you knew them better.'
'I never was much smitten with them,' said Edmund, abruptly, as if affronted at the imputation of having liked them.
'But Edmund,' cried Marian, standing still in the extremity of her amazement, 'what have you been about all this time? Have you not been telling me it is all my own fault that I do not get on with them?'
He was silent for a little while; and then turning round half-way, as people do when much diverted, he broke out into a hearty fit of laughter. 'It is plain,' said he, at last, 'that nature never designed me for a young lady's counsellor.'
