thing grand; but that stern grandeur was not all that fitted the place; and though he thought her beautiful, he was not satisfied.

Edmund had some talk with Mrs. Lyddell, who spoke of Gerald with great warmth; inore, he thought, than she showed in the mention of Marian. He stayed till the last, and saw the relaxation of her grand company-face, before he wished them good night.

"Well," said Mrs. Lyddell, as the door closed behind him, and she lighted her eandle, "Africa has not robbed Mr. Arundel of all his good looks. How old is he?"

"Nearly twenty-eight," said Marian.

"I am always forgetting that he is so young," said Mrs. Lyddell. "Well, good night. I wonder what brought him home!"

"I do not wonder, for it is plain enough," said Caroline, as the girls turned up their own staircase.

"Marian tries to look innocent," said Clara, laughing violently. "I am sure I don't understand," said Marian.

"Now I am sure that is on purpose to make us explain," said Clara. "It is too bad, Marian; when he came straight to you, Marian, instead of going to Lady Marchmont."

"And the tête-à-tête in the carriage," said Caroline.

"Don't be so ridiculous," said Marian; "but I believe you like such jokes so well, that you would make them out of anything."

"I don't make a joke of it at all. I always thought it was with that very view he was made your guardian."

"You very absurd persons, good night!" said Marian, shutting her door, and laughing to herself at such a very ludicrous idea as such a scheme on the part of her father.

These kind of jokes, of which some people are still very fond, may be very hurtful, since a young girl's inexperience may found far more upon them than the laughers ever intended. Caroline and Clara were not acting a kind part, though they were far from any unkind meaning. Marian had great susceptibility and deep affections; and had her mind been less strong, her happiness might have been seriously injured. Even if their observations had no real meaning, and no effect on her heart, yet they could not fail to occasion her many moments of embarrassment, and might interfere with her full, free confidence in her best and earliest friend.

In some degree they had this result. Marian began to be aware that her situation with regard to Edmund was not without awkwardness, that he was still a young man, and that she was now a young woman; and whilst shocked at herself, and disliking the moment that had opened the door to the thought, was obliged to consider how far there might be truth in the suggestion.

She was quite sure that she had influenced him strongly, quite sure that he regarded her with warm affection, she wished she was

equally sure it was with a brother's love. Yes, she wished, for to think otherwise would lower him in her estimation. He was her first-cousin, and if first-cousins had better not marry, he would never think of it, besides the merit of his sacrificing all for Gerald's good would be lost, and his return would have been an act of self-gratification instead of self-devotion. No, she would not, could not believe any such thing; she was certain Edmund never would be so weak as to wish to do anything only doubtfully right, and thus, strangely enough, her full trust in the dignity of his character prevented her from imagining him in love with her.

Still she knew her cousins were watching her, and this prevented her from ever meeting him in thorough comfort at Mr. Lyddell's; and even when at Lord Marchmont's, her maidenly reserve had been so far awakened as to make her shrink back from the full freedom of their former intercourse. This, however, was more in her feeling than in her manners, which, if they differed at all from what they were formerly, only seemed to be what naturally rose from her growth in years.

She observed that he was not in good spirits. It was not what others, not even Selina could perceive, but Edmund and Marian had known each other too well and too long not to read each other's faces, and know the meaning of each other's tones. She did not expect him to be as merry as in olden days at home, nor did she desire it, but there was more depression about him than she thought comfortable, and she was sure that it was an effort to him to talk in the lively way that had once been natural to him. She was afraid he felt the separation from his friends in his old regiment very severely, or else that he was very anxious about Gerald, and yet she had found out that the tenderest point of all was Fern Torr, for he either would not or could not speak of that, but always contrived to turn the conversation as soon as it was touched upon. She grieved over his unhappiness a great deal, and yet would not enter on any questioning with him, from an innate feeling that it would not be becoming. He was only to stay a very short time in London before joining his regiment at Portsmouth, and he meant to go and spend a day at Eton to see Gerald, but Lady Marchmont suddenly proposed that they should all go together; she said she must inspect Eton before Master Willie was ready to go, and that it would be a charming scheme to take Marian and surprise Gerald. Marian had a few secret doubts whether this was exactly the most suitable way of fulfilling Edmund's intentions, but it was so delightful a treat that she laid aside her scruples, and Selina coaxed her husband into finding a day to accompany them.

So one fine June morning, the day before Edmund's departure, they set off, Selina's high spirits, and Marian's real happiness giving the party a very joyous aspect. Father Thames looked as

stately and silvery as ever, the playing fields smiled in the sunshine, and Windsor Castle looked down on them majestically. Marian felt it a holiday to have escaped from London, into so fair a scene, and even if she had come for nothing else would have been happy in beholding some of the most honoured spots in the broad realm of England.

She had many questions to ask, but Lord Marchmont was taken up with showing his old haunts to his wife, and she was walking at some distance in front with Edmund, on whose face there was an expression of melancholy thought that she would not disturb. He was an Etonian, and how full of remembrances must all be around him.

Presently two or three boys met them almost running, and were passing them when Marian exclaimed, "There is Lionel !" "Lyddell!" called Edmund, and one of them stopped, so taken by surprise that Marian was for a moment horrified by thinking she had mistaken him, but the next glance reassured her, for she knew Lionel's way of standing, and his hat pulled far over his forehead. "Lionel !" said she, "where is Gerald ?"

"Hollo! You here !" said he, wheeling round so that the light might not be in his eyes, and shading them with one hand while he tried to make out Edmund, and gave his other hand to Marian. "How did you come? Are any of the people at home here?" "No, this is my cousin Edmund. I am come with the Marchmonts."

"You have quite forgotten me," said Edmund shaking hands. "Not if I could see you," said Lionel, frowning at the light as he looked up.

"O, Lionel, how bad your eyes are!" exclaimed Marian.

"I have just been reading, and there is such a hideous sunshine to-day," said Lionel.

"And where is Gerald ?"

"I'll go and fetch him." "Where is he?"

"I'll find him," and off he ran, with a fresh pull of his hat over his forehead to keep out the hideous sunshine. The Marchmonts came up at the moment, and were told who he was, and that he was gone to find Gerald. Edmund asked what was the matter with his eyes.

"They are never very good," said Marian. "Reading and strong light always hurt them."

"Has he had any advice?"

"The surgeon at Oakworthy looked at them last Christmas when the snow dazzled them, but he did not think there was much amiss with them. It was always so. But where can Gerald be ?"

In the space of about five minutes, Gerald and Lionel emerged from a side street, and the former came up to them alone, with a

look which had more of shyness than of pleasure, and his greeting, while more courteous, was less open and cordial than Lionel's had been. They all went together to the house of the boy's tutor, who had also been Edmund's; there was a great maze of talking and introductions, Lady Marchmont made herself very charming to the mistress of the house, whom Marian had learnt even in Edmund's time to speak of by the name of " my dame;" Edmund and the tutor disappeared together, and did not come back till the others had nearly finished a most hospitable luncheon, after which the visitors set out to see all that there was time to see, and Marian caused Gerald to fetch Lionel to accompany them.

Lionel walked with Edmund and Marian, but Gerald on the other hand attached himself to Lord and Lady Marchmont, talking to them freely and pleasantly, answering Selina's questions much to her amusement and satisfaction, and Lord Marchmont comparing notes with him as old Etonians delight to do with "the sprightly race," disporting for the time being on the " margent green" of Father Thames. A particularly lively, pleasant, entertaining, well-mannered boy was Gerald, but all the time Marian was feeling that he was holding aloof both from her and Edmund, never allowing either of them the opportunity of speaking to him alone, for even a minute; and his manner, whenever Edmund either spoke to him or looked at him, was such as to betray to her that he was ill at ease.

Thus it was while they viewed the chapel, the court, with what Selina was pleased to call "Henry's holy shade," the sights of the college, the hundred steps, the terrace, and beautiful S. George's, with its gorgeous banners and carved stalls, and blazoned shields, that glimpse into the Gothic world of chivalry and romance; and in the midst of it that simple flat stone which thrills the heart with a deep feeling at once of love, sorrow and reverence; that stone which recalls the desolate night which, in darkness and ruin, amid torn banners, and scutcheons riven, saw the martyr king go white to his grave. Marian entered into all these things, in spite of her anxiety, for her mind was free enough to be open to external objects, now that her brother was in Edmund's hands, and she was relieved of that burthen of responsibility which had so pressed on her.

Such was their Eton day, and with no more satisfaction from Gerald did they part at the Slough station. The Marchmonts were loud in his praise, Marian sought the real opinion in Edmund's eyes, but he was leaning back, looking meditative, and when first he roused himself to enter into conversation, it was of Lionel and not of Gerald that he spoke.

"Do you say that any one has looked at that boy's eyes?" "Yes, Mr. Wells, the Oakworthy apothecary."

"Do you know what is thought of him?"

"I don't know," said Marian considering. "He attends a good many people, I believe he is thought well of; but no one ever is ill at home, so I have no experience of him. Yes, he was called in once when we all had the measles, and last winter about Lionel's eyes. I am sure I don't know whether he is what you would call a good doctor or not; all I know is that he is not at all like Dr. Oldham."

Edmund smiled. "Has Mrs. Lyddell not been uneasy?"

"O no!" said Marian. "No one ever troubles their head about Lionel, besides it was always so.”

"Always how?"

"His eyes were always weak and easily tired and dazzled from the very first when I knew him. They don't look as if there was anything amiss with them, and so people don't suspect it." "I think they do look very much amiss," said Edmund. "Do not you observe an indistinctness about the pupil, between it and the iris? Can you tell whether that was always the case?"

"I don't know, I see what you mean. I should say it had begun of late. Do you think it so bad a sign?" she asked anxiously.

"I am not sure; I only know if he belonged to me, I should not like it at all.”

Marian pondered and feared, and considered if it would be possible to stir up Mrs. Lyddell; she herself was much startled, and rather indignant; but she doubted greatly whether poor Lionel was of sufficient importance in the family for any one to be very anxious on his account. In the mean time she was extremely desirous of hearing what account Edmund had received from the tutor respecting her brother, but she had no opportunity till late in the evening, when he came and sat by her on the sofa, saying “Now, Marian, I will answer your anxious eyes, though I am afraid I have nothing very satisfactory to tell you. I don't know that there is any positive harm-it is only the old story of a clever boy with too much money and too much left to himself. Idleness and thoughtlessness."

"And what shall you do?"

"I don't know-I must think."

Whereupon they both sat silent.

"I shall see you again in the summer," said he.

"O yes-perhaps you will come in Gerald's holidays." Another silence, then she said, "Do you think very badly

of poor Lionel's eyes."

66

No, don't say that, for I know nothing, only I wonder his family are not more anxious."

"I shall see if Mrs. Lyddell will believe there is cause for alarm."

The carriage was announced, she wished him good bye again,