"I should be ashamed of the very sight of it ever after. O no! I should like--at least I should not mind seeing it all as a spectator, but as to making a part of the show, never, never, Caroline!" "Well, I know it is of no use to try to persuade you!" said Caroline, with a little annoyance in her tone. "Good night." Lady Julia, with her son and daughter, came to call the next day. Marian thought herself fortunate in not being in the drawing-room. She put on her bonnet, slipped out at the garden door, and walked away with a book in her hand, to the remotest regions of the park, where she sat down under a thorn-tree, and read Schiller's Thirty Years' War with a sort of exemplary diligence and philosophy, till it was so late that she thought herself perfectly secure of the Faulkners' being gone. Yet she only just missed them, for their carriage was driving off at one door, as she reached the other. "Where have you been, Marian?" was the first greeting. "I have been walking to the old thorn." "O, have you? We hunted for you everywhere in the house: we would hardly believe Fanny when she said you were gone out, for I knew you meant to walk with us." "I thought you would be engaged so long that it was not worth while to wait for you." "Well, but did you know you had missed the Faulkners?" said Clara. "I knew they were here." Every one understood this except Clara, and very little did it please Mrs. Lyddell or Caroline. "Marian," said Mrs. Lyddell, "you really must not be so absurd about this matter. Your mourning is nothing. You need not be wearing it even now; and it will annoy Lady Julia, and put her to serious inconvenience, if you continue to refuse." "I am sure I do not wish to inconvenience her," said Marian; "but there must be many young ladies who would be only too happy to take the part." "Of course," said Mrs. Lyddell, "any one else would rejoice to be asked; but the point is, that it is so unpleasant to admit any thing of a stranger into the intimacy these things occasion." "I am almost a stranger to them." "Yes, but not to us, Marian," said Clara. "You have known them as long, or longer than we have; and you would look so very well. Lady Julia said herself that such a distinguished face and figure as yours would set the whole thing off to advantage." Caroline well knew this was but the way to make Marian still more determined against it. She held her tongue through all the persuasions of her mother and Clara; and trusting a little, but not much, to the superior influence which she knew herself to possess, she followed Marian to her room, and began,--"Marian, are you still resolute against this unfortunate archery? because, if you do not really think it a matter of right and wrong, I should be very much obliged to you if you would only yield."