So it went on, Marian was very unhappy at this loss of his confidence; but the more she attempted to talk to him, the more he avoided her, being resolved not to show how great his dislike and dread of school was.
"Gerald," said Lionel, the last day before they were to go, "I have been thinking I should like to give Marian something instead of that book."
"So should I," said Gerald, delighted with the idea, for he was feeling all the time that he was vexing his sister, and wishing to do something by way of compensation.
"I did not mean you," said Lionel, "for it----for you would never have been sharp enough to think of the beast for yourself. I only told you because you could tell me what she would like best. Papa has just given me a sovereign."
"He has given me another," said Gerald, "and we will put them together, and do it handsomely."
"Well, what shall it be? Not that stupid book over again."
"O no, no, she has had enough of that already, and there are plenty of other books that she wants."
"No, don't let it be a book," said Lionel; "I can't think how anybody can like reading, when they can help it."
"Well, I do like some reading, when it is a shipwreck, or a famous bloody battle," said Gerald.
"Yes, but then it makes one's eyes ache so."
"It does not mine."
"Well, if I go on long it always makes mine ache," said Lionel. "And don't the letters look green and dance about, when you read by candle light?"
"No," said Gerald. "How funny that is, Lionel. But I'll tell you what, we will get Walter to take us out, and we shall be sure to see something famous, in some shop-window or other."
Walter was at home for the Easter vacation, and under his protection the boys were allowed to go out. Very patient he was, and wisely did he give his counsel in the important choice which, if left to the boys themselves, might probably have been really something famous. Marian would have been grateful to him, had she known all that he averted from her, a stuffed fox, an immense pebble brooch, a pair of slippers covered with sportive demons. At every shop which furnished guns, knives, or fishing tackle, they stopped and lamented that she was not a boy, there was nothing in the world fit for girls; they tried a bazaar, and pronounced everything trumpery, and Walter was beginning to get into despair, when at last Lionel came to a stop before a print shop, calling out, "Hollo, Gerald, here's Beauty and the Beast itself!"
It was the beautiful engraving from Raphael's picture of
Saint Margaret in meekness treading
Upon the dragon 'neath her spreading.
And Walter, rejoicing that their choice was likely to fall on anything which a young lady might be so glad to possess, conducted them into the shop, and gave all the desired assistance in effecting the purchase. It was a fine impression, and the price was so high as to leave the boys' finances at rather a low ebb; but Walter, in his secret soul, thought this by no means to be regretted, since it was much better for them that it should be generously spent at once in this manner, than that it should be frittered away in the unaccountable and vain manner in which he had usually seen schoolboys' money wasted.
So S. Margaret was bought and rolled up, and so afraid were the boys that she should not be rightly sent home, that they insisted on carrying her themselves, and almost quarrelled as to which should have the first turn.
Marian, on coming into her room, found both the boys on the top of the chest of drawers, trying to pin the print up against the wall, and though her arrival caused them some discomfiture, it was on the whole a fortunate circumstance, since it saved the corners from extensive damage.
"O Lionel! O Gerald! how beautiful! how very nice! What a lovely face! Is it really for me? How I do thank you, but I am afraid you have spent all your money."
"It is a better Beauty and the Beast than the old one," said Gerald, "Isn't it, Marian?"
"A better beauty, but not a better beast," said Lionel.
"It is very beautiful indeed," said Marian; "I shall get a frame for it, and it will always put me in mind of you both."
"Yes, you will always think of me when you look at the beauty," said Lionel, "and of Gerald when you look at the beast."
"S. Margaret and the dragon! I wish I knew the story," said Marian; "but I suppose it is an allegory like that of S. George. How good and innocent she looks! Yes, see, Gerald, she is walking pure and white through the park forest, and conquering the dragon. You see the palm in the hand for victory. So innocent and so fearless."
"I thought it would be one of those funny Roman Catholic stories, like what Caroline was reading one day," said Lionel.
"I don't like making fun of those," said Marian. "They often mean a great deal, if you don't laugh at them, and tell them properly. I am sure this print is to put us in mind of how we are to overcome temptation, and I do like it very much. Thank you both."
Lionel was here called away, but Gerald remained, and proceeded to a more minute examination of the beauties of the print, of which he was very proud.
"O, Gerald, dear, if we could be like it," said Marian.
"Like it? That you'll never be, Marian; your hair is too black."
"Yes, but like it within. Pure and clear from sin in the midst of a bad world. I shall look at it and think of that very often, and you must think too, Gerald."
"I mean to be good at school," said Gerald.
And leaning against his sister, he let her talk to him as in times of old, advising him with all her might, for he really liked it, and was comfortable in having it so, though he would have been ashamed to own that he did. Her advice was at once childish and wise; sometimes sensible, sometimes impracticable. Let any sister of fourteen think what counsel she would give a brother of nine if he would but listen to her, and she will have a very fair idea of it. Gerald listened and promised earnestly, and she thought, hoped, and trusted that his promises would be kept: she reminded him of all that could strengthen his resolution, and talked of the holidays with what cheer she might. She had copied out a morning and evening prayer from her own treasured book, rather than give him such another, because she thought he would perhaps heed them more in her handwriting, and she now gave them to him, folded up in a neat little silk case, which he could keep without observation. How she put her arm round him and pressed him towards her as she gave them into his hand, and felt that she was doing what her mother would have done, so earnestly, so tearfully, so much more impressively. O was she watching them now?
The brother and sister were interrupted at last, and called down to tea. The evening passed away heavily, spent as it was for the most part in the drawing-room; and the last thing before the boys went to bed, Lionel pushing Gerald roughly off, held Marian fast by the hand, and whispered in her ear, "I say--you've written out something for Gerald."
"Yes," she answered, horrified that he should have found it out.
"Would you mind doing it for me? Don't tell any one."
Was not this a pleasure? Marian sat up in her dressing-gown that night to write the prayers in her very clearest writing, for she knew Lionel never liked to read what was not large and clear, and she guessed that late in the evening, after all his lessons, he would have too many "green and blue monsters," as he used to call them, before his eyes, to be willing to give them more work than he could possibly help. She thought her mamma would have been very uneasy if she had heard of those green and blue monsters, and she wondered whether Mrs. Lyddell knew or cared about them, but Lionel was one of the least regarded of the family, and nobody but Johnny ever thought it worth while to make a trifling complaint to her. It was far worse that Lionel should be left to obtain a form of private prayer by such a chance as this. Alas! alas for them all! She was too unhappy to think more of Lionel, and in the midst of earnest prayers for Gerald, she cried herself asleep.