"There is just a shade of chance that it may turn out otherwise, and that, your mother--Mrs. Lyddell I mean--takes hold of, but I have not the slightest hope. The surgeon said, it had all the appearance of a confirmed case, such as cannot be removed." Marian stood aghast, and Mr. Lyddell, with a sort of groan, most painful to hear, passed her, and shut himself into his study. The only thing she could think of doing, was to pour out her dismay and compassion in a letter to Gerald, and she repaired to the schoolroom for the purpose of writing, but she had not been there long, before Lionel came in, and sat down astride on the music-stool, just as he used to do, but with a very different expression of countenance from the wild, reckless spirit of merriment which used to possess him. He sat and meditated for a little while, then exclaimed, "Marian, whom have you seen since I left you?" "Nobody but Mr. and Mrs. Lyddell." "Did you hear papa say anything about it?" "Yes, a little." "Did he say what the doctor thought of it?" "Yes." "Tell me the very words," and he leant his elbows on the table, looking at her fixedly. "Ah! Lionel, can you bear it? They are so very sad." "Tell me them, I say." Marian looked down, as if she could not bear to meet his countenance, and faltered as she repeated them. "Ay!" said Lionel, springing up, and flinging himself round passionately, "I knew it was humbug all the time!" "What? How? O Lionel, what have I done?" "As if I was a fool or a baby, to be fed with false hopes," proceeded Lionel, sitting down, and hiding his face on his crossed arms on the table; "she might have let that alone, she has done me mischief enough already." "Lionel," said Marian, firmly and gravely, for she was really shocked at his tone, "you must not come to me, if it is to speak in such a manner of your mother." "Very well," said Lionel coldly, rising up to leave the room, then pausing just as his hand was on the door, "I thought _you_ did feel for me, Marian." "O Lionel, dear Lionel," and she sprang to him, to lead him back to his seat, but he still retained his hold of the lock and would not move; "you know"--her tears were flowing--"you know how I grieve for you; but if you are in trouble, that ought not to make you do wrong," He was turning the lock, and hardened his face, but Marian went on, "Don't go, Lionel, only hear me. Mrs. Lyddell is very unhappy about you, and I am sure you must see yourself, that if she blames herself for any want of care, her only comfort must be in hoping for the best, making the most of this little ray." "Then _you_ think there is a ray!" interrupted Lionel. "So far as that nothing is certain, but I am afraid it is so slight, that you had much better not trust to it, but settle your mind to bear whatever may come."