"I am glad of it, or you would not have written so freely; though after all you could not have helped being like a sensible straightforward person."
"O, it is untold relief that you are come; and yet I must be sorry—"
"I won't have you sorry. No one should regret having told the honest truth. The fact is, I ought never to have gone. And poor Gerald?"
"I have no more to say, only vague fears. But now you are come, it is all right."
"Don't trust too much to me, Marian. Remember, it will be a generous thing in Gerald if he attends to me at all. He is not obliged to do so."
"You will—you must do everything. Gerald is as fond of you as ever, I know he is, though he would not write. O, I am glad! You heard of our delightful going home, I hope?"
"Yes. All well there?" said Edmund, hurriedly.
"Very well. Agnes is grown so tall, and it is so very nice there. The old Manor house—"
"Well," he broke in suddenly; "and how do you get on with Selina
Marchmont."
"She is very, very kind. But O! here we are in her street, and I shall have no more of you to-day."