"Poor child! I was very anxious about you," he added, with an affectionate glance at her, "for I did not know but the Englishman might have carried you off."
"He's bad enough, no doubt, if he had wanted me," she cried indignantly; "but it seems he did not, fortunately."
She alone, of the three, showed any feeling of bitterness toward Lyttleton; with the others resentment was swallowed up in thankfulness.
They made no effort for the apprehension of the criminal, and indeed let it be supposed by their friends and acquaintances, and even their own servants, that Kenneth's fall was accidental.
They heard casually, in a day or two, that Lyttleton had been a boarder for several weeks past at a solitary farm-house some miles distant, but had left on the day of Dr. Clendenin's accident, travelling in an easterly direction.
The sudden turn affairs had taken proved a decided benefit to Marian. Her thoughts were turned from herself and her sorrows to her suffering brother. She was his nurse; quite as devoted and affectionate as he had been to her, and, in her detestation of Lyttleton's crime, she lost the last vestige of regard for him, of regret of his desertion.
She could never again be quite the careless child she was of yore, but grief and disappointment had lost their keen edge, and she would one day emulate the calm, placid resignation of her mother.
The change that came over her greatly lightened the hearts of the two who loved her so dearly.
For Kenneth, too, clouds and darkness were breaking away, and the star of hope shone brightly.
He at first thought Lyttleton's accusation against him, that he had robbed him of his lady-love, referred to Marian; but on reflection he felt convinced that it was Miss Lamar the man meant; the admission being unguardedly made while half maddened by anger and resentment.