feelings readily, and besides, she was young enough to be able to put
aside anxiety which, perhaps, she did not fully comprehend. It was the
ordinary state of things for her father to be unwell, and his illness
scarcely weighed upon her spirits, especially on a holiday and day of
pleasure like the present; for though she often shared Edmund's walks
and rides, a long expedition like this was an unusual treat.

After traversing several fields, they entered a winding path through a
copse, which, descending a steep hill side, conducted them at length to
the verge of a clear stream, which danced over or round the numerous
rocks which obstructed its passage, making a pleasant, rippling sound.
Here and there under the overhanging trees were deep quiet pools, where
the water, of clear transparent brown color, contained numbers of little
trout, the object of Edmund's pursuit. But more frequently the water
splashed, dashed, and brawled along its rocky way, at the bottom of
the narrow wooded ravine in which the valley ended. It was indeed a
beautiful scene, with the sun glancing on the green of the trees and
the bright sparkling water; and Marian could scarcely restrain her
exclamations of delight, out of consideration for the silence required
by her cousin's sport. She helped him to put his rod together, and
arrange his reel, with the dexterity of one who well understood the
matter; and then sat down under a fern-covered rock with a book in her
hand, whilst he commenced his fishing. As he slowly proceeded up the
stream, she changed her place so as to follow him at a distance; now and
then making expeditions into the wood at the side of the hill to study
some remarkable rock, some tree of peculiar form, or to gather a
handsome fern-leaf, or nodding fox-glove with its purple bells. Or the
little sketch-book came out, and she caught the form of the rock with a
few strokes of bold outline and firm shading, with more power over her
soft pencil than is usual at her age, though her foliage was not of the