were in themselves trifles light as air, and it seemed unkind to send them across half the world. She left off trying to write, and resolved to give herself time for consideration; but time only made her more perplexed. She waited a week, wrote at last, and as soon as her letter was fairly gone, thought of forty different ways of saying the thing better and more justly, dwelt again and again on each line that could convoy a false impression one way or the other, and reproached herself by turns for having spoken disadvantageously of her dear affectionate brother, and for not having let her cousin fairly see the full extent of the mischief. On the whole, however, she was much happier now that it was all in Edmund's hands; so much so, that when Mr. Faulkner came again, she could not be quite so stiff; and being entirely relieved from the fear of his taking notice of her, could do him the favour of laughing when he told anything amusing.
Winter and early spring came and went; the Easter holidays brought Gerald home, and she tried again in vain to get him to write to Edmund; but she could bear it better now that she had hopes.
They went to London, and Marian was carried into the midst of all the gaieties supposed to befit her age and situation. Mrs. Lyddell would have thought herself very far from 'doing her justice,' if she had not taken her to all the balls and parties in her way; and Marian was obliged to submit, and get into the carriage, when she had much rather have gone to bed.
She put off the expectation of much enjoyment till Lady Marchmont should come, and her arrival took place unusually late that season. She had not been well, and little Willie had been somewhat ailing; so that the bringing him into London air was put off as long as possible. It was not till the latter part of May that she came, as she had always promised to do, in time for Marian's presentation at court, on which both she and Mrs. Lyddell were bent; and Marian ready to endure it, by the help of a few romantic thoughts of loyalty. The day after Lady Marchmont arrived, she called at Mrs. Lyddell's and came in, as she generally did once in a year. After her visit was over, she asked Marian to come and take a drive, and no sooner where they in the carriage, than she exclaimed, 'A nice looking girl, that Miss Lyddell! Is she the one who is to marry Mr. Faulkner?'
'O, Selina! how could you have heard such nonsense?'
'What, is it to be denied? It is not settled, then?'
'No, nor ever will be.'
'Why, surely the man has been spending months at Oakworthy.'
'Only weeks; besides, he was buying a house.'
'A very proper preliminary to a wife.'
'O, no, no it is impossible!'
'But why? Perhaps you know some good reason to the contrary; for I heard he admired you very much when he met you last year.'
'Don't say such things, Selina. How could you fancy it possible, after all the horrid things Lord Marchmont said of him!'
'What is impossible, my dear? That he should think you very handsome?'
'Don't, Selina, pray don't! That any body good for any thing should ever marry him!'
'Any body good for any thing!' repeated Selina. 'Well, granted,--and it is a considerable grant,--does that make the supposition out of the question?'
'Yes, as regards Caroline. O, Selina! you do not know Caroline, or you would not look so incredulous!'
'Time will show,' said Lady Marchmont, gaily. 'I reserve to myself the satisfaction of having known it beforehand.'
'It never will be,' said Marian. 'And how is little Willie?'
'Very well, poor little man, if he would only grow, but he is so small, that I am fairly ashamed to show such a hop-o'-my-thumb. But he is coming out quite a genius; he reads as well as I do, and makes the
