not think you had been so ill-natured; it is all your fault, I tell you. I thought you cared for me.'
This was dreadful; Marian's purse was in her hand, and she began 'O Gerald dear, anything but that!'--when they found themselves close in front of the station, and Lionel pulling at the door of their carriage, and calling fiercely to the porter to unlock them.
Caroline was standing on the platform, and there was a tumult of greetings and inquiries for luggage to be taken out and put in. Gerald ran to see that his goods were separated from his sister's; Lionel shook hands with Marian, and scolded her for staying away all the holidays; roared to the porter that his portmanteau was for Slough, then turned again to say, 'You've heard of poor unfortunate, Marian?'
The bell rang; Gerald ran back; Marian knew she was weak, but could not help it,--she squeezed the two sovereigns into his hand, and was comforted for the moment by his affectionate farewell. Lionel and he threw themselves into their carriage, and were whisked off.
'There!' said Caroline. 'Now come along. O, I am so glad you are come; I have so much to say.'
Marian could not dwell on Gerald; she put her arm within Caroline's, looked back to see Fanny safe under the care of an Oakworthy footman, and soon was in the carriage.
'Well, Caroline; and how is every one?'
'Pretty well, considering the revulsion of ideas we have all undergone. Poor Miss Morley left plenty of farewells for you. You can't think haw pleased she was with your message.'
'Poor thing! Where is she?'
'At her aunt's; she went on Monday. Mamma was impatient to have it over. You know her ways.'
Marian knew that this intimated that Caroline thought her mother had not been kind; and she doubted whether to continue her inquiries; but Caroline was too eager to tell, to wait for questions, and proceeded:--'There had been dissatisfaction for a long time, as I believe you may have guessed; mamma thought Clara backward, and wanting in what Miss Morley calls 'the solid;' and at last, coming suddenly into the schoolroom at twelve o'clock one fine day, she found reason good, for they were very comfortably reading M. Eugene Sue.'
'O, Caroline, impossible!'
'Too possible,' said Caroline, 'though I would not believe it at first. However, they did not know what it was when they began, and were afterwards too much bewitched with the story to leave off; and as they felt it was wrong, they read it the more constantly to get it over faster.'
'But how in the world could they get such a book?'
'From the circulating library. It appears that they found the evenings rather dull in London this spring, when we were all out, and so began a little secret hiring, which was continued at Oakworthy, and with a worse choice of books.'
'That she should be so little to be trusted!'
'Nay, Marian, who could live with her half-an-hour in the schoolroom, and think she could?'
'Certainly, she often puzzled me when first I came.'
'And you never saw the worst. You always kept order, after you came.'
'O, Caroline, what nonsense!'
'Yes, indeed you did. I do assure you that, scores of times, the knowledge that your great eyes were wondering at me has kept me from bullying Miss Morley into letting me do what I knew to be wrong. I could persuade her and deceive myself, but I could not persuade you; and then all the rest went for nothing, because you were sure to be right.'
