The Two Guardians. Yonge Charlotte Mary

to get her governess into the scrape, thought it but fair to say what she could for her, and answered, "Miss Morley thought that you and mamma would wish it."

      "By no means," said Mr. Lyddell, turning to Marian, "I have the highest opinion of Mr. and Mrs. Wortley, the very highest; I wish your correspondence to be perfectly free."

      "Thank you," said Marian. "Good night!" and away she went, to tell Gerald how it had passed; and he, who had been lying awake in expectation, was much disappointed to hear no more than this.

      As soon as she was gone, Mrs. Lyddell exclaimed, "What could have given Miss Morley reason to think that her letters were to be inspected?

      Really, Miss Morley must have some courage! I should be sorry to be the person to make the request."

      "Ah! Marian was very angry indeed," said Clara; "quite in a passion."

      "Very proper," said Mr. Lyddell. "A spirited thing. She is a girl of sense."

      Mrs. Lyddell let the matter drop with the girls, but going to the schoolroom, she inquired into it more fully, and found that by poor unfortunate faithful Morley's own account, she had allowed herself to be made the tool of the curiosity of Caroline and Clara. She spoke severely, and Miss Morley had displeasure to endure, which was considerably more disagreeable than all Clara's importunities could have been.

      However, the next morning it appeared as if the whole affair was forgotten by all parties; Marian win just as usual, and so were her cousins; but, in secret, Caroline felt guilty, and held her in higher estimation since she had seen the contents of the letter, which, as she could perceive, Marian might well be doubly unwilling to show; she wished that Marian would but be as open to her as she was to Agnes, but this unfortunate business seemed like another great bar to their ever being really intimate, and she did not know how to surmount it.

      These reflections were shortly after driven out of Caroline's head by a severe fit of toothache, which for three days made her unfit for anything but to sit by the fire reading idle books. Mrs. Lyddell proposed to take her to Salisbury to consult a dentist, and Lionel was supposed likewise to require inspection. Then, turning to Marian, Mrs. Lyddell said, "This is not the pleasantest kind of expedition, but perhaps you may like to see Salisbury, and I think your bonnet wants renewing."

      "Thank you," said Marian, pleased with the Invitation. "I shall be very glad to go; I believe my teeth ought to be looked at. The dentist at Exeter said last winter that they were crowded and ought to be watched."

      "Very well," said Mrs. Lyddell, "we will see what Mr. Polkinghorn says."

      "Polkinghorn," said Marian, as Mrs. Lyddell left the room; "that is a Devonshire name."

      "You are very welcome to him, I am sure," said Caroline; "I wish the trade was abolished."

      "What cowards girls are!" said Lionel.

      "Let us see how boys behave before we say anything against girls," was Marian's answer.

      "Shan't you scream?" said Lionel.

      "Of course she will not," said Caroline, "unless with joy at meeting a Devonshire man."

      Marian laughed, and Lionel began an exhilarating story about an unfortunate who was strapped to the dentist's chair, dragged nine times round the room, and finally had his jaw broken.

      Marian enjoyed her drive to Salisbury, though it added to her contempt for Wiltshire scenery, by showing her more and more of desolate down. She watched the tall Cathedral spire from far in the distance, peering up among the hills like a picture more than a reality, and she admired the green meadows and quiet vale where the town stands. Poor Caroline was taken up with dreadful anticipations of Mr. Pokingtooth, as Lionel called him, and when arrived at his clamber of torture, hung back, so as to allow Marian to be the first victim. The result of the examination was, that it would be better; though not absolutely necessary, that a certain double tooth should be extracted, and Mr. Polkinghorn, left the room in search of an instrument.

      "So you think it ought to go?" sighed Marian.

      "I should say so," said Mrs. Lyddell, "but you may decide for yourself."

      Marian covered her face with her hands, and considered. The dentist returned; she laid back her head and opened her mouth, and the tooth was drawn. Caroline and Lionel escaped more easily, and they left the dentist's. Mrs. Lyddell said something in commendation of Marian's courage, and asked if she would like to see the Cathedral, an offer which she gladly accepted, expecting to go to the service, as the bells now began to ring; but she was disappointed, for Mrs. Lyddell said, "Ah! I had forgotten the hour. We must do our commissions first, and be at the Cathedral before the doors are shut." Marian did not venture to express her wishes, but she thought of the days when attending the Cathedral service had been the crowning pleasure of a drive to Exeter, and in dwelling on the recollection, she spent the attention which Mrs. Lyddell expected her to bestow on her new bonnet.

      Their business did not occupy them very long, and they entered the Cathedral before the anthem was over; but Marian felt that it was not fitting to loiter about the nave while worship was going on within the choir; and the uncomfortable feeling occupied her so much, that she could hardly look at the fair clustered columns and graceful arches, and seemed scarcely to know or care for the gallant William Longsword, when led to the side of his mail-clad, cross-legged effigy. The deep notes of the organ, which delighted Caroline, gave her a sense of shame; and even when the service was over, and they entered the choir, these thoughts had not so passed away as to enable her to give full admiration to the exquisite leafy capitals and taper arcades of the Lady Chapel. Perhaps, too, there was a little perverseness in her inability to think that this Cathedral surpassed that of Exeter.

      She thanked Mrs. Lyddell rather stiffly, as she thought to herself, "I did not reckon upon this!" and they set out on their homeward drive. Caroline looked thoughtful, and did not say much, Lionel fell asleep, and Mrs. Lyddell, after a few not very successful attempts at talking to Marian, took out her bills, and began to look over them and to reckon. Marian sat looking out of the window, lost in a vision of the hills, woods, and streams of Fern Torr, which lasted till they had reached home.

      Such an expedition was so uncommon an event in the lives of the inhabitants of the schoolroom, that those who stayed at home were as excited about it as those who went, and a full and particular account was expected of all they had seen and all they had done. Caroline and Lionel both seemed to think Marian a perfect miracle of courage in voluntarily consenting to lose a tooth.

      "And I am sure," said Caroline as they sat at tea, "I cannot now understand what made you have it done."

      "To oblige a countryman," said Marian laughing.

      "Well, but what was your real reason?" persisted Caroline.

      "Mrs. Lyddell thought it best, and so did the dentist," said Marian.

      "O," said Caroline, "he only said so because it was his trade."

      "Then how could Mrs. Lyddell depend on him?" said Marian, gravely.

      "Dentists never are to be depended on," said Caroline; "they only try to fill their own pockets like other people."

      "You forget," said Lionel, "Devonshire men are not like other people."

      "O yes, I beg their pardon," said Caroline, while every one laughed except Gerald; who thought the praise only their due.

      "But why did you have it done?" said Clara, returning to the charge; "I am sure I never would."

      "Yes, but Marian is not you," said Lionel.

      "You would have disobeyed no one," said Caroline.

      "I do not know," said Marian, thinking of one whom she would have disobeyed by showing weakness.

      "Then did you think it wrong not to have that tooth drawn?" said Caroline.

      "I do not know."

      "Did you think it right to have it done?"

      "I do not know, unless that I did not like it."

      "Do you mean to say that not liking a thing makes it right?" exclaimed Clara.

      "Very often," said Marian.

      "Miss