the lawn, and ran eagerly up to a Bath chair, in which was seated a
gentleman whose face and form showed too certain tokens of long and
wasting illness. He held out his hand to her, saying, "Well, Marian,
good sport, I hope, and no more tumbles from Mayflower."

"Marian sits like a heroine," said Edmund, coming up; "I am glad to see
you out."

"It is such a fine evening that I was tempted to come and see the
magnolia that you have all been boasting of: and really it is worth
seeing. Those white blossoms are magnificent."

"But where is mamma?" asked Marian.

"Carried off by Gerald, to say whether he may have a superannuated sea
kale pot for some purpose best known to himself, in his desert island.
They will be here again in another minute. There, thank you, Edmund,
that is enough," he added, as his nephew drew his chair out of a streak
of sunshine which had just come over him. "Now, how far have you been? I
hope you have seen the cascade, Marian?"

"O yes, papa, and scrambled up the side of it too. I had no idea of any
thing so beautiful," said Marian. "The spray was so white and glancing.
Oh! I wish I could tell you one half of the beauty of it."

"I remember well the delight of the first discovery of it," said Sir
Edmund, "when I was a mere boy, and found my way there by chance, as I
was shooting. I came up the glen, and suddenly found myself in the midst
of this beautiful glade, with the waterfall glancing white in the sun."