The Two Guardians | Page 2

little colour in the cheeks; and what there was,
only the pale pink glow like a wild rose, called up for the moment by
warmth and exercise, and soon to pass away. Still there was no
appearance of want of health; the skin was of a clear, soft, fresh shade
of brown; the large dark eyes, in spite of all their depth of melancholy
softness, had the wild, untamed animation of a mountaineer; the face
and form were full of free life and vigour, as she sat erect and perfectly
at ease on her spirited little bay pony, which at times seemed so lively
that it might have been matter of surprise to a stranger that so young a
horsewoman should be trusted on its back.
Her companion was a youth some ten or eleven years her senior,
possessing a handsome set of regular features, with a good deal of
family likeness to hers; dark eyes and hair, and a figure which, though
slight, was rather too tall to look suitable to the small, stout, strong
pony which carried him and his numerous equipments, consisting of a
long rod-case, a fishing-basket and landing-net, in accordance with the
lines of artificial flies wreathed round his straw hat, and the various
oddly contrived pockets of his grey shooting-coat.
In the distance at the end of the lane there appeared two walking figures.

"Mrs. Wortley!" exclaimed the young lady.
"No, surely not out so soon!" was the answer. "She is in the depth of
lessons."
"No, but Edmund, it is, look, and Agnes too! There, Ranger has better
eyes than you; he is racing to them."
"Well, I acknowledge my mistake," said Edmund, drawing up his rein
as they came upon the pair,--a pleasing lady, and a pretty blue-eyed girl
of fourteen. "I did not believe my eyes, Mrs. Wortley, though Marian
tried to persuade me. I thought you were always reading Italian at this
time in the morning, Agnes".
"And I thought you were reading Phædrus with Gerald," said Mrs.
Wortley.
"Ay," said Agnes, "we did not know what to make of you coming up
the lane; you with your lance there, like the Red Cross Knight himself,
and Marian with her palfry for Una."
"The knight must have borrowed the dwarf's ass," said Edmund,
laughing, and putting his lance in rest.
"And where have you been, then, at this portentous time of day,
Agnes?" asked Marian.
"We heard a report of Betty Lapthorn's child having another fit," said
Agnes, "and set off to see; but it turned out to be a false alarm. And
now we are going up to the Manor House to ask Lady Arundel if she
has any arrowroot for it, for ours is all used up."
"Shall we find her at leisure?" added Mrs. Wortley.
"Yes," said Marian. "Gerald has finished his lessons by this time.
Mamma thought it would be too far for him to go with us, and besides
he frightens the fish."
"Which you are in too good training to do, Marian," said Mrs. Wortley.

"And how is your papa to-day?"
"Oh, it is a good day," said Marian: "he was up before we set off."
"Down stairs? For perhaps we had better not go now, just after he is
tired with coming down," said Mrs. Wortley. "Now, Mr. Arundel, you
will tell me honestly, and this arrowroot will do just as well another
time; or if Marian will carry home the message--"
"Well," said Edmund, smiling, "to give you a proof of my sincerity, I
think you had better perhaps go rather later in the day. My uncle very
unnecessarily hurried himself, thinking that he was keeping me waiting
to help him down stairs, and I thought he seemed rather tired; but he
will be very glad to see you in the afternoon. Indeed, he would be very
glad now, only you asked me as a question of prudence."
"Don't make civil speeches at the end to spoil just such a reply as I
wanted," said Mrs. Wortley. "I am afraid you do not think Sir Edmund
much better since you were last at home."
Edmund shook his head. "If he has not lost ground, it is well," said he,
"and I think at least there is less pain."
"Well, I will not keep you any longer," said Mrs. Wortley; "good-bye,
and good sport to you."
And with a wave of the hand on rode the two cousins, Edmund and
Marian Arundel.
"What an excellent thing it is for the village that those Wortleys are
come!" said Edmund.
"Yes; now that mamma cannot attend much to the school and poor
people, I don't know what we should do without them. How different it
was in old Mr. May's time! I hope we shall get the