“He sees,” thought Marion, “that my eyes are open, and he wisely intends to let me go free.  He sees that I understand he has acted dishonorably in taking advantage of my youth, and he is, perhaps, sorry for it.”

So, in proportion as he ceased to importune her, she grew kinder to him.  She talked to him about his pictures, and the progress he was making.  He showed her sketches of pictures that he intended to paint, but the word love was never mentioned.

The time came now for Miss Lyster to return to her school duties.  She was not affected, but she felt the deepest sorrow.  It was not pleasant to leave such a home as Thorpe Castle for the drudgery of a school.  But she could see plainly if that visit was to be renewed she must go, and make no sign.

Brother and sister were profuse in their thanks; they expressed the deepest gratitude to Lord and Lady Ridsdale; they professed themselves overcome with benefits.  Lord Ridsdale received all these thanks with great complacency, feeling that he deserved them.  Lady Ridsdale’s impression was: 

“I am glad they are gone, though I do not like to interfere in Marion’s affairs.  I shall certainly advise her to drop that acquaintance as soon as she can.”

Allan bade Marion “good-bye.”  His last words to her were: 

“I shall not seek to correspond with you clandestinely—­nothing but the fervor of my love can possibly excuse my having met you as I did.  I loved you, so I forgot prudence, ceremony, etiquette, and all.  But, Marion, you will remember that you are my promised wife.”

She shrank back at the words.  It was the greatest relief to her when they went; it was as though some dark, brooding presence was removed from the castle.

CHAPTER XI.

More than once was Marion Arleigh tempted to break that solemn promise, and tell all to Lady Ridsdale.  She longed to do so—­the fact of being blamed would not prevent her, she felt that she deserved it—­but she was one of those who are most scrupulous in keeping a promise once given.  Of one thing she was quite resolved—­she would write to Allan and tell him this clandestine engagement must come to an end.  She could not bear the burden of the secret any longer, neither could she possibly fulfil the contract.  She found on examining her own heart that she did not love him, and a marriage without love was absurd.

She told him she would always be his friend, that she should look upon his advancement in life as her especial care; she should always remember him, with the most grateful affection; but as for love, all notion of it must be considered at an end.  And, she wrote still further, she could not blame herself for this, because she felt that her youth and inexperience excused her.  She should always remember the claim that Adelaide and himself had upon her, and she was always his sincerely affectionate friend, Marion Arleigh.