'Eh, Marian, what, going after beauty again?'
'I wish it was Beauty and the Beast,' said Marian, disconsolately. 'There are different tastes in the world, that is certain; but don't break that neck of yours, Lionel.'
Lionel replied by letting go with one hand and brandishing that and his foot over the giddy space below. Marian frowned and squeezed up her lips, but did not speak till it pleased him to draw himself in again, and throw himself over the balusters before her, saying, 'That is a reward for you, Marian; Clara would have screeched.'
The next time Marian was desired to fetch the book, it was for a morning visitor,--a broad, stately, pompous old lady, who had had the pleasure of meeting Lady Marchmont, and thought Miss Arundel very like her.
'Are you going after beauty?' said Lionel, again meeting Marian on the stairs.
'Yes,' said Marian, with a sigh.
'Well, I hope she will be pleased, that's all,' said Lionel.
Marian thought there was a meaning in this speech, but she was in haste, and without considering it, ran down stairs again. As she was opening the drawing-room door, she saw Gerald on the top of the stairs, calling to her, 'Marian, have you that book? O, wait--'
'I cannot come now, Gerald,' said she, entering the room, and shutting the door after her. She laid the book on the table, and the page was opened.
'O beautiful!' exclaimed the old lady, 'How exact a likeness!'
'Why, Marian!' broke involuntarily from Mrs. Lyddell, and Marian, looking at the print, could, in spite of her dismay, hardly keep from laughing; for the elegant Lady Marchmont now appeared decorated with a huge pair of mustachios, an elaborate jewelled ring in the nose, and a wavy star on each cheek, and in the middle of the forehead; while over the balustrade on which she was leaning there peeped a monster with grotesque eyes, a pair of twisted horns, a parrot's beak, vulture's claws, and a scaly tail stretching away in complicated spires far into the distance. No one could for a moment doubt that this was Gerald's work, and Marian felt sure that he had been thereto incited by Lionel. Extreme was her consternation at the thought of the displeasure which he had incurred; but in the mean time there was something very amusing in the sight of the old lady beginning to perceive that something was wrong, and yet not able to make it out, and not choosing to own her difficulties. Mrs. Lyddell, though vexed and angry, carried it off very well. 'Ah! some mischief of the boys,' said she, decidedly. 'I am afraid it is not fit to be seen.' And so saying, she closed the book, and changed the conversation.
As soon as the visitor had taken leave, the scene was changed; Mrs. Lyddell walked hastily to the table, threw open the book, and began to examine into the degree of damage it had suffered. 'I suppose you know nothing of this, Marian?' said she, surveying her with one of her quickest and most formidable glances.
'O no,' said Marian; 'I am sure I am very sorry.'
'Well, I must inquire about it,' said Mrs. Lyddell, taking up the book, and hastening towards the school-room, followed by poor Marian, trembling with all her heart for her brother, and somewhat for Lionel, even though she could not help being angry with him for having got Gerald into such a scrape.
There stood the boys, looking partly exulting, partly frightened; Lionel a little more of the first, Gerald a little more of the second; for this was Gerald's first desperate piece of mischief, whereas Lionel had survived many such. Besides, Gerald's handiwork was too evident to be mistaken, while his companion's part in the folly could be known to no one; and though it might be guessed at by Marian, Lionel thought she might be trusted.
The book was spread upon the table, and the expressions of horror from the three ladies of the school-room were as strong as could reasonably be expected.
'Indeed,' pleaded Miss Morley, in her deplorable tone, 'I am continually ordering Sir Gerald not to scribble in books, but he never will obey.'
