“We have been for a fortnight with grandmamma. I think we bored her very much. She told us she had people coming for the 22nd. But we really could not get away on the 22nd. One’s grandmother is not the same as any one else, do you think? However much she may be bored, it is right that she should put up with it. We don’t go there very much. Once in a year is not a great deal. She never has anything to say to father: he makes her so nervous, she says. She will soon say that Eddy makes her nervous too: when there is no smoking-room, perhaps it may be a little unpleasant to smell his cigars; but if there is anything at all in being a grandmother—then she is of course impatient that he has not passed his exam. I cannot see why, for my part. They ought to have known it from the first. If you will not even open a book, how can you expect to pass any exam.?”
“My object, I allow, is to amuse myself,” said Eddy to Marion, dropping his voice, as it is the right thing to do when you wish to set up a separate conversation. “I am quite candid, as you are—and, tell me, isn’t that yours too?”
“I am afraid you will not find it very easy,” said Marion, “to amuse yourself at Rosmore.”
“What! is there nothing to do?” said Eddy, looking a little dismayed.
“We never see anybody from morning to night but the old maids out of the village. And we never go anywhere. There was a ball at Campbellton, but they refused it, and there was one at Eagle’s Craig, but they just went themselves.”
“Good heavens!” cried Eddy, “what depravity! you never mean to say that the old people, papa and mamma——”
“They just went themselves!” said Marion with an indignation almost too terrible for words.
“This must be looked into,” said Eddy, “it is almost beyond belief.”
“I will tell you after,” said Marion, as the conversation on the other side of the carriage came to a pause.
Thus Mr. Edward Saumarez, jun., procured for himself, without a moment’s delay, something to do at Rosmore. And Marion Rowland found at once an additional interest in life. It was quite innocent, and as trivial as could have been desired. In the evening after dinner she confided a part of her troubles to him, and then the next day, when the young visitors were conducted by the young people of the house to see the neighbourhood, Marion managed so that Rosamond went on with Archie, while she herself followed attended by Eddy. And the sight of the two pairs thus arranged was amusing enough. Rosamond went on in advance, very quickly, with her smooth firm step, and her head held high, as she walked in London, where, intent upon her own business, this young woman of the period passed where she pleased, as safe in her own protection and that, but in a most secondary degree, of her mastiff, as safely as Una with her lion; while Archie walked by her, a step behind, finding it slightly difficult to keep up with her long yet graceful steps, and still more difficult to answer the occasional questions which she addressed to him without turning her head. Archie for his own part could not, however he cudgelled his brains, find out anything to say to this beautiful young lady. He felt her to be miles, nay Alps above him, and that he could not say anything which did not feel common, vulgar, mean—like a boy in a shop talking to a princess. He kept striving to keep up with her, yet never quite kept up with her save when she stopped suddenly and turned with the same swiftness of movement with which she walked to look out on the water or up to the hills, when he would outgo her, and be compelled to swing himself round with an effort to get back to his place.