Winter came, and with it the time fixed for that farewell visit from Edmund Arundel, to which Marian and Gerald had long looked forward. Marian was becoming very anxious for it on Gerald's account, for she was beginning to feel that he was not quite the same child as when he first arrived at Oakworthy. He was less under control, less readily obedient to Miss Morley, less inclined to quote Edmund upon all occasions, more sensible of his own consequence, and more apt to visit that forbidden ground, the stables. She longed for Edmund's coming, trusting to him to set everything right, and to explain to her the marvels of this strange new world. Several gentlemen were staying in the house, and there was to be a dinner party on the day when he was expected, so that she thought the best chance of seeing him would be to stay in the garden with Gerald, while the others took their walk, so that she might be at hand on his arrival. Clara, though by no means wanted, chose to stay also, and the two girls walked up and down the terrace together. "It is so very odd," said Clara "that you should care about such a great old cousin." "He is only twenty-four," answered Marian. "But he must have been grown up ever since you remember." "Yes, but he is so kind. He used to carry us about and play with us when we were quite little children, and since I have been older he has made me almost a companion. He taught me to ride, and trained my bay pony, my beautiful Mayflower, and read with me, and helped me in my music and drawing." "That is more than Elliot would do for us, if he could," said Clara. "It is very dull to have no one to care about our lessons, but to be shut up in the schoolroom for ever with poor unfortunate." Marian did not choose to say how fully she assented to this complaint, but happiness had opened her heart, and she went on,--"I have had so many delightful walks with him through the beautiful wood full of rocks, and out upon the moor. O, Clara, you cannot think what it is to sit upon one of those rocks, all covered with moss and lichen, and the ferns growing in every cleft and cranny, and the beautiful little ivy-leafed campanula wreathing itself about the moss, and such a soft, free, delicious air blowing all around. And Edmund and I used to take out a book, and read and sketch so delightfully there!" "Do you know, Marian," said Clara mysteriously, "I have heard some one say--I will not tell you who--that it is a wonder that Mr. Arundel is so fond of you, of Gerald, at least, for if it was not for him, he would have had Fern Torr, and have been Sir Edmund." "But why should he not be fond of Gerald?" "Really, Marian, you are a very funny person in some things," exclaimed Clara. "To think of your not being able to guess that!" Here Mrs. Lyddell interrupted them by calling from the window to ask why they were staying in the garden? "We were waiting to see Mr. Arundel, mamma," answered Clara.