"I could do better if I had any one to watch me, or care about me," said
Marian.
Edmund's face was full of sadness. "We—I mean you, are alone indeed, Marian; but, depend upon it, it is for the best. We might be tempted not to look high enough, and you have to take heed to yourself for Gerald's sake."
"I do just sometimes feel as I ought," said Marian; "but it is by fits and starts. O, Edmund, I would give anything that you were not going."
"It is too late now," said Edmund, "and there are many reasons which convince me that I ought not to exchange. In a year or two, when I have my promotion, I hope to return, and then, Marian, I shall find you a finished young lady."
Marian shuddered.
"Poor child," said Edmund, laughing.
"And you are going home," said Marian, enviously.
"Home, yes," said Edmund, in a tone which seemed as if he did not think himself an object of envy.
"Yes, the hills and woods," said Marian, "and the Wortleys."
"Yes, I am very glad to go," said Edmund. "Certainly even the being hackneyed cannot spoil the beauty or the force of those lines of Gray's."