g. Cousins are almost the same as
brothers, and yet they may be lovers. There is certainly a great
relief in cousinhood.

Mary Lowther had no brother. She had neither brother nor sister;--had
since her earliest infancy hardly known any other relative save
her aunt and old Parson John. When first she had heard that Walter
Marrable was at Loring, the tidings gave her no pleasure whatever. It
never occurred to her to say to herself: "Now I shall have one who
may become my friend, and be to me perhaps almost a brother?" What
she had hitherto heard of Walter Marrable had not been in his favour.
Of his father she had heard all that was bad, and she had joined
the father and the son together in what few ideas she had formed
respecting them. But now, after five interviews, Walter Marrable was
her dear cousin, with whom she sympathised, of whom she was proud,
whose misfortunes were in some degree her misfortunes, to whom she
thought she could very soon tell this great trouble of her life
about Mr. Gilmore, as though he were indeed her brother. And she
had learned to like his dark staring eyes, which now always seemed
to be fixed on her with something of real regard. She liked them
the better, perhaps, because there was in them so much of real
admiration; though if it were so, Mary knew nothing of such liking
herself. And now at his bidding she called him Walter. He had
addressed her by her Christian name at first, as a matter of course,
and she had felt grateful to him for doing so. But she had not dared
to be so bold with him, till he had bade her do so, and now she felt
that he was a cousin indeed. Captain Marrable was at present waiting,
not with much patience, for tidings from Block and Curling. Would
that L5000 be saved for him, or must he again go out to India and
be heard of no more at home in his own England? Mary was not so
impatient as the Captain, but she also was intensely interested
in the expected letters. On this day, however, their conversation
chiefly ran on the news which Mary had that morning heard from
Bullhampton.

"I suppose you feel sure," said the Captain, "that young Sam Brattle
was one of the murderers?"

"Oh no, Walter."

"Or at least one of the thieves?"

"But both Mr. Fenwick and Mr. Gilmore think that he is innocent."

"I do not gather that from what your friend says. She says that she
thinks that they think so. And then it is clear that he was hanging
about the place before with the very m