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 sc.r.a.pe.

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."

"That is not true!" cried Gerald, in a loud, startling voice.

"Gerald," said Mrs. Lyddell, "that is no proper manner of speaking; you have behaved very ill already--do not add to your fault. Before any more is said, beg Miss Morley's pardon."

There was a silence, and she repeated, "I desire that you will ask Miss Morley's pardon directly--still silent? what is the meaning of this?"

Gerald stood bolt upright, and very rigid; poor Marian glancing appealingly, first at him, then at Mrs. Lyddell, then at Miss Morley, all equally without effect. She saw it all--that he might have been brought to own that be had done wrong about this individual case; but that the sweeping accusation of disobeying orders, which, as they all knew, were never given with anything like decision, had roused a proud, determined sense of injustice, and that he was ready to suffer anything rather than apologise. She was wild to speak, to do something; yet what could she attempt?

Mrs. Lyddell would not begin upon the book-scribbling subject till she had conquered the spirit of defiance, and continued to insist on his begging Miss Morley's pardon; but the more she ordered, the more determined he grew. There he stood, his proud, dark eye fixed on a picture on the wall, his lip curled with a sort of disdain, and an expression in his whole motionless figure that, had his cause but been good, would have been resolution, whereas it now was only indomitable self-will and pride.

At any rate, it was an expression that showed that he was not to be conquered by woman, though he might have been won over by her: and Mrs.

Lyddell had tact enough to give up the battle without owning herself defeated, and without further discussion said, "Go to your own room, Gerald; I shall give you time to reflect and get the better of your obstinacy. You may come here again when you are ready to ask Miss Morley to forgive you for your very improper conduct towards her."

Without turning to the right or left,--without one look towards his sister, Gerald walked out of the room, and even shut the door after him gently. Poor Marian, who could guess all that she felt?

"This is very extraordinary," said Mrs. Lyddell, "so well-behaved a boy as he is in general."

"Ah! boys of his age always get quite beyond ladies' management," said Miss Morley.

"Such determined obstinacy!" said Mrs. Lyddell.

"Perhaps he did not understand you," said Marian, unable to keep from saying something, though she could not in her agitation think of anything to the purpose.

"Understand? that is nonsense, Marian. What was there to understand?

He spoke very improperly, find I desire him to apologise; and if he is obstinate, it is very wrong of you to defend him."

Marian was silenced, though her heart was swelling and her temples throbbing. In another minute Mrs. Lyddell was summoned to some more company, and Marian had nothing worse to hear than her companions'

commiseration for the book, and declarations that India rubber would do it no good.

The afternoon pa.s.sed away, and nothing was heard of Gerald: indeed, Marian understood him well enough to expect that nothing would be heard.

As she was on her way to her own room, looking wistfully at his door, Lionel overtook her; and thumping her hard on the back, exclaimed, "Isn't it a jolly beast, Marian?"

"O, Lionel, it was very naughty of you. How could you make Gerald behave so ill?"

"Never mind, Marian, he will get out of it soon enough. Come, don't be savage; we did it all for your good."

"My good! how can you talk such nonsense?"

"Why, I'll bet you anything you like, that mamma will never be for having the little beastie down to show the company."

Marian half smiled; it was pleasant to find that, towards her at least, the boys' intention had been anything but unkind, but still she hardly knew how to be placable with Lionel when he had led her brother into mischief, and then left him to bear all the blame.

"It was very wrong," she repeated.

"Come, don't be cross, Marian. You don't mean that you really cared for that trumpery picture?"

"I did not care for it so much," said she, "but it was a valuable book, and it was very kind of your papa to give it to me, so I was sorry to have it spoilt."

"Won't it rub out?" said Lionel.

"No, of course not."

"I thought pencil always did."

"And then, Lionel, why could you not have thought what disgrace you were leading Gerald into?"

"You don't think, Marian, I was going to be shabby enough to leave Gerald alone in the sc.r.a.pe? No, if I do, I'll give you leave to tell of me or do whatever you please; but you see now he is not in disgrace for drawing that pretty little beast, but for giving poor unfortunate a bit of his mind, so what use would there be in my putting my neck into the noose before my time? No, if Gerald is the fellow I take him for, and stands out about begging her pardon, the whole business of the book will blow over, and we shall hear no more of it."

Marian shook her head. "O, Lionel, if you would only think whether a thing is right before you do it!"

"How can you wish me to be so stupid, Marian?"

"I am sure, Lionel, the funniest, merriest people that I know, think most about what is right."

"Well, that may do in Devonshire perhaps," said Lionel, stretching himself, "but it won't here except with you. Indeed there is n.o.body else that I know of that does make such a fuss about right and wrong, except Walter, and he hasn't got an atom of fun to bless himself with."

"But, Lionel, what good will all the fun in the world do us when we come to die?" said Marian, whispering.

The boy looked full at her, but would not show that he felt any force in her words. "I don't mean to die just yet," he said, and by way of escaping from the subject he mounted on the bal.u.s.ters, and was sliding down as he had often done before, when by some hitch or some slip he lost his balance, and slid down without the power to stop himself.

Marian thought him gone, and with suspended breath stood, in an agony of horror, listening for his fall on the stones of the hall far beneath; but the next moment she saw that he had been stopped by the turn of the staircase, and the instinct of self-preservation had made him cling fast to the rail with both hands, though he was unable to recover his footing on the narrow ledge of the steps beyond it. She did not scream or call, she ran down to the landing place--how she did it she knew not--but she threw her arms round him and succeeded in lifting and dragging him over the rail, which was not very high, till he stood on the safe side of the bal.u.s.ters, Her heart beat, her head swam, and she was obliged to sit down on the step and pant for breath; Lionel leant against the wall, for his nerve was not restored for a moment or two, after his really frightful peril. Not a word was spoken, and perhaps it was better that none should pa.s.s between them. Mr. Lyddell's step was heard ascending, and they both hurried away as fast as they could.

No one was told of the adventure, it was not Marian's part to speak of it, if indeed she _could_ have done so, and it did not appear that Lionel chose to mention it. Perhaps it was that he did not like to enter upon it seriously, and it had been too much of an answer to his light speech to be made a laughing matter. At any rate he was silent, and Marian was very glad of it.

Mr. Lyddell was coming up to visit the prisoner and try if he could bring him to reason, but it soon transpired that all his attempts had been in vain, even though he came to a threat that unless Gerald made his submission before the next day was at an end, he should be sent to school with Lionel at the end of another fortnight.

Marian's distress increased, she was equally wretched at her brother's increasing misbehaviour and at its punishment, It was provoking to see Johnny walking about in all the grandeur and self-consequence of being quite out of the sc.r.a.pe, and evidently rejoicing that Gerald was in it; it was provoking to hear Miss Morley and the girls wondering, even Saunders' pity was provoking, and there was nothing that gave her the least comfort but the perception that Lionel was certainly graver and more subdued.

She was allowed to go to her brother for a little while that evening, with some hope that she might prevail with him. She found him leaning against the window in the failing light, listlessly watching the horses and grooms in the mews, which his high window overlooked. He turned his head as she came in, but without speaking, and then looked back at the window, till she came up to him, put her arm round his neck and turned his face towards her. It was a sullen, dogged countenance, such as she had seldom or never seen him wear before.

"Gerald, dear Gerald, what is the meaning of this? You never used to behave so?"

"I never was served so before," muttered he.

"You have drawn it on yourself. Why will you not submit and ask her pardon?"

"What should I ask pardon for? I said nothing but the truth."