BOOK III. 

 Harsh things he mitigates, and pride subdues. _Ex. _ SOLON: _Eleg. _

CHAPTER I. 

 YOU still are what you were, sir! . . . . . . . . . With most quick agility could turn And return; make knots and undo them, Give forked counsel. --_Volpone, or the Fox_. 

BEFORE a large table, covered with parliamentary papers, sat Lumley LordVargrave. His complexion, though still healthy, had faded from thefreshness of hue which distinguished him in youth. His features, alwayssharp, had grown yet more angular: his brows seemed to project morebroodingly over his eyes, which, though of undiminished brightness, weresunk deep in their sockets, and had lost much of their quickrestlessness. The character of his mind had begun to stamp itself on thephysiognomy, especially on the mouth when in repose. It was, a facestriking for acute intelligence, for concentrated energy; but there was asomething written in it which said, "BEWARE!" It would have inspired anyone who had mixed much amongst men with a vague suspicion and distrust. 

Lumley had been always careful, though plain, in dress; but there was nowa more evident attention bestowed on his person than he had evermanifested in youth, --while there was something of the Roman's celebratedfoppery in the skill with which his hair was arranged on his highforehead, so as either to conceal or relieve a partial baldness at thetemples. Perhaps, too, from the possession of high station, or the habitof living only amongst the great, there was a certain dignity insensiblydiffused over his whole person that was not noticeable in his earlieryears, when a certain _ton de garnison_ was blended with his ease ofmanners. Yet, even now, dignity was not his prevalent characteristic;and in ordinary occasions, or mixed society, he still found a familiarfrankness a more useful species of simulation. At the time we now treatof, Lord Vargrave was leaning his cheek on one hand, while the otherrested idly on the papers methodically arranged before him. He appearedto have suspended his labours, and to be occupied in thought. It was, intruth, a critical period in the career of Lord Vargrave. 

From the date of his accession to the peerage, the rise of Lumley Ferrershad been less rapid and progressive than he himself could have foreseen. At first, all was sunshine before him; he had contrived to make himselfuseful to his party; he had also made himself personally popular. To theease and cordiality of his happy address, he added the seemingly carelesscandour so often mistaken for honesty; while, as there was nothing showyor brilliant in his abilities or oratory--nothing that aspired far abovethe pretensions of others, and aroused envy by mortifying self-love--hecreated but little jealousy even amongst the rivals before whom heobtained precedence. For some time, therefore, he went smoothly on, continuing to rise in the estimation of his party, and commanding acertain respect from the neutral public, by acknowledged and eminenttalents in the details of business; for his quickness of penetration, anda logical habit of mind, enabled him to grapple with and generalize theminutiae of official labour or of legislative enactments with a masterlysuccess. But as the road became clearer to his steps, his ambitionbecame more evident and daring. Naturally dictatorial and presumptuous, his early suppleness to superiors was now exchanged for a self-willedpertinacity, which often displeased the more haughty leaders of hisparty, and often wounded the more vain. His pretensions were scannedwith eyes more jealous and less tolerant than at first. Proudaristocrats began to recollect that a mushroom peerage was supported butby a scanty fortune; the men of more dazzling genius began to sneer atthe red-tape minister as a mere official manager of details; he lost muchof the personal popularity which had been one secret of his power. Butwhat principally injured him in the eyes of his party and the public werecertain ambiguous and obscure circumstances connected with a short periodwhen himself and his associates were thrown out of office. At this time, it was noticeable that the journals of the Government that succeeded werepeculiarly polite to Lord Vargrave, while they covered all his coadjutorswith obloquy: and it was more than suspected that secret negotiationsbetween himself and the new ministry were going on, when suddenly thelatter broke up, and Lord Vargrave's proper party were reinstated. Thevague suspicions that attached to Vargrave were somewhat strengthened inthe opinion of the public by the fact that he was at first left out ofthe restored administration; and when subsequently, after a speech whichshowed that he could be mischievous if not propitiated, he wasreadmitted, it was precisely to the same office he had held before, --anoffice which did not admit him into the Cabinet. Lumley, burning withresentment, longed to decline the offer; but, alas! he was poor, and, what was worse, in debt; "his poverty, but not his will, consented. " Hewas reinstated; but though prodigiously improved as a debater, he feltthat he had not advanced as a public man. His ambition inflamed by hisdiscontent, he had, since his return to office, strained every nerve tostrengthen his position. He met the sarcasms on his poverty by greatlyincreasing his expenditure, and by advertising everywhere his engagementto an heiress whose fortune, great as it was, he easily contrived tomagnify. As his old house in Great George Street--well fitted for thebustling commoner--was no longer suited to the official and fashionablepeer, he had, on his accession to the title, exchanged that respectableresidence for a large mansion in Hamilton Place; and his sober dinnerswere succeeded by splendid banquets. Naturally, he had no taste for suchthings; his mind was too nervous, and his temper too hard, to takepleasure in luxury or ostentation. But now, as ever he _acted upon asystem_. Living in a country governed by the mightiest and wealthiestaristocracy in the world, which, from the first class almost to thelowest, ostentation pervades, --the very backbone and marrow ofsociety, --he felt that to fall far short of his rivals in display was togive them an advantage which he could not compensate either by the powerof his connections or the surpassing loftiness of his character andgenius. Playing for a great game, and with his eyes open to all theconsequences, he cared not for involving his private fortunes in alottery in which a great prize might be drawn. To do Vargrave justice, money with him had never been an object, but a means; he was grasping, but not avaricious. If men much richer than Lord Vargrave find Statedistinctions very expensive, and often ruinous, it is not to be supposedthat his salary, joined to so moderate a private fortune, could supportthe style in which he lived. His income was already deeply mortgaged, and debt accumulated upon debt. Nor had this man, so eminent for themanagement of public business, any of that talent which springs from_justice_, and makes its possessor a skilful manager of his own affairs. Perpetually absorbed in intrigues and schemes, he was too much engaged incheating others on a large scale to have time to prevent being himselfcheated on a small one. He never looked into bills till he was compelledto pay them; and he never calculated the amount of an expense that seemedthe least necessary to his purposes. But still Lord Vargrave relied uponhis marriage with the wealthy Evelyn to relieve him from all hisembarrassments; and if a doubt of the realization of that vision everoccurred to him, still public life had splendid prizes. Nay, should hefail with Miss Cameron, he even thought that, by good management, hemight ultimately make it worth while to his colleagues to purchase hisabsence with the gorgeous bribe of the Governor-Generalship of India. 

As oratory is an art in which practice and the dignity of station producemarvellous improvement, so Lumley had of late made effects in the Houseof Lords of which he had once been judged incapable. It is true that nopractice and no station can give men qualities in which they are whollydeficient; but these advantages can bring out in the best light all thequalities they _do_ possess. The glow of a generous imagination, thegrasp of a profound statesmanship, the enthusiasm of a noblenature, --these no practice could educe from the eloquence of Lumley LordVargrave, for he had them not; but bold wit, fluent and vigoroussentences, effective arrangement of parliamentary logic, readiness ofretort, plausibility of manner, aided by a delivery peculiar forself-possession and ease, a clear and ringing voice (to the only fault ofwhich, shrillness without passion, the ear of the audience had grownaccustomed), and a countenance impressive from its courageousintelligence, --all these had raised the promising speaker into thematured excellence of a nervous and formidable debater. But precisely ashe rose in the display of his talents, did he awaken envies and enmitieshitherto dormant. And it must be added that, with all his craft andcoldness, Lord Vargrave was often a very dangerous and mischievousspeaker for the interests of his party. His colleagues had often causeto tremble when he rose: nay, even when the cheers of his own factionshook the old tapestried walls. A man who has no sympathy with thepublic must commit many and fatal indiscretions when the public, as wellas his audience, is to be his judge. Lord Vargrave's utter incapacity tocomprehend political morality, his contempt for all the objects of socialbenevolence, frequently led him into the avowal of doctrines, which, ifthey did not startle the men of the world whom he addressed (smoothedaway, as such doctrines were, by speciousness of manner and delivery), created deep disgust in those even of his own politics who read theirnaked exposition in the daily papers. Never did Lord Vargrave utter oneof those generous sentiments which, no matter whether propounded byRadical or Tory, sink deep into the heart of the people, and do lastingservice to the cause they adorn. But no man defended an abuse, howeverglaring, with a more vigorous championship, or hurled defiance upon apopular demand with a more courageous scorn. In some times, when theanti-popular principle is strong; such a leader may be useful; but at themoment of which we treat he was a most equivocal auxiliary. Aconsiderable proportion of the ministers, headed by the premier himself, a man of wise views and unimpeachable honour, had learned to view LordVargrave with dislike and distrust. They might have sought to get rid ofhim; but he was not one whom slight mortifications could induce to retireof his own accord, nor was the sarcastic and bold debater a person whoseresentment and opposition could be despised. Lord Vargrave, moreover, had secured a party of his own, --a party more formidable than himself. He went largely into society; he was the special favourite of the femalediplomats, whose voices at that time were powerful suffrages, and withwhom, by a thousand links of gallantry and intrigue, the agreeable andcourteous minister formed a close alliance. All that _salons_ could dofor him was done. Added to this, he was personally liked by his royalmaster; and the Court gave him their golden opinions; while the poorer, the corrupter, and the more bigoted portion of the ministry regarded himwith avowed admiration. 

In the House of Commons, too, and in the bureaucracy, he had noinconsiderable strength; for Lumley never contracted the habits ofpersonal abruptness and discourtesy common to men in power who wish tokeep applicants aloof. He was bland and conciliating to all men ofranks; his intellect and self-complacency raised him far above the pettyjealousies that great men feel for rising men. Did any tyro earn thesmallest distinction in parliament, no man sought his acquaintance soeagerly as Lord Vargrave; no man complimented, encouraged, "brought on"the new aspirants of his party with so hearty a good will. 

Such a minister could not fail of having devoted followers among theable, the ambitious, and the vain. It must also be confessed that LordVargrave neglected no baser and less justifiable means to cement hispower by placing it on the sure rock of self-interest. No jobbing wastoo gross for him. He was shamefully corrupt in the disposition of hispatronage; and no rebuffs, no taunts from his official brethren, couldrestrain him from urging the claims of any of his creatures upon thepublic purse. His followers regarded this charitable selfishness as thestanchness and zeal of friendship; and the ambition of hundreds was woundup in the ambition of the unprincipled minister. 

But besides the notoriety of his public corruption, Lord Vargrave wassecretly suspected by some of personal dishonesty, --suspected of sellinghis State information to stock-jobbers, of having pecuniary interests insome of the claims he urged with so obstinate a pertinacity. And thoughthere was not the smallest evidence of such utter abandonment of honour, though it was probably but a calumnious whisper, yet the mere suspicionof such practices served to sharpen the aversion of his enemies, andjustify the disgust of his rivals. 

In this position now stood Lord Vargrave: supported by interested, butable and powerful partisans; hated in the country, feared by some ofthose with whom he served, despised by others, looked up to by the rest. It was a situation that less daunted than delighted him; for it seemed torender necessary and excuse the habits of scheming and manoeuvre whichwere so genial to his crafty and plotting temper. Like an ancient Greek, his spirit loved intrigue for intrigue's sake. Had it led to no end, itwould still have been sweet to him as a means. He rejoiced to surroundhimself with the most complicated webs and meshes; to sit in the centreof a million plots. He cared not how rash and wild some of them were. He relied on his own ingenuity, promptitude, and habitual good fortune tomake every spring he handled conducive to the purpose of themachine--SELF. 

His last visit to Lady Vargrave, and his conversation with Evelyn, hadleft on his mind much dissatisfaction and fear. In the earlier years ofhis intercourse with Evelyn, his good humour, gallantry, and presents hadnot failed to attach the child to the agreeable and liberal visitor shehad been taught to regard as a relation. It was only as she grew up towomanhood, and learned to comprehend the nature of the tie between them, that she shrank from his familiarity; and then only had he learned todoubt of the fulfilment of his uncle's wish. The last visit hadincreased this doubt to a painful apprehension. He saw that he was notloved; he saw that it required great address, and the absence of happierrivals, to secure to him the hand of Evelyn; and he cursed the duties andthe schemes which necessarily kept him from her side. He had thought ofpersuading Lady Vargrave to let her come to London, where he could beever at hand; and as the season was now set in, his representations onthis head would appear sensible and just. But then again this was toincur greater dangers than those he would avoid. London!--a beauty andan heiress, in her first _debut_ in London! What formidable admirerswould flock around her! Vargrave shuddered to think of the gay, handsome, well-dressed, seductive young _elegans_, who might seem, to agirl of seventeen, suitors far more fascinating than the middle-agedpolitician. This was perilous; nor was this all: Lord Vargrave knew thatin London--gaudy, babbling, and remorseless London--all that he couldmost wish to conceal from the young lady would be dragged to day. He hadbeen the lover, not of one, but of a dozen women, for whom he did notcare three straws, but whose favour had served to strengthen him insociety, or whose influence made up for his own want of hereditarypolitical connections. The manner in which he contrived to shake offthese various Ariadnes, whenever it was advisable, was not the leaststriking proof of his diplomatic abilities. He never left them enemies. According to his own solution of the mystery, he took care never to playthe gallant with Dulcineas under a certain age. "Middle-aged women, " hewas wont to say, "are very little different from middle-aged men; theysee things sensibly, and take things coolly. " Now Evelyn could not bethree weeks, perhaps three days, in London, without learning of one orthe other of these _liaisons_. What an excuse, if she sought one, tobreak with him! Altogether, Lord Vargrave was sorely perplexed, but notdespondent. Evelyn's fortune was more than ever necessary to him, andEvelyn he was resolved to obtain since to that fortune she was anindispensable appendage. 

CHAPTER II. 

 YOU shall be Horace, and Tibullus I. --POPE. 

LORD VARGRAVE was disturbed from his revery by the entrance of the Earlof Saxingham. 

"You are welcome!" said Lumley, "welcome!--the very man I wished to see. "

Lord Saxingham, who was scarcely altered since we met with him in thelast series of this work, except that he had grown somewhat paler andthinner, and that his hair had changed from iron-gray to snow-white, threw himself in the armchair beside Lumley, and replied, --

"Vargrave, it is really unpleasant, our finding ourselves always thuscontrolled by our own partisans. I do not understand this new-fangledpolicy, this squaring of measures to please the Opposition, and throwingsops to that many-headed monster called Public Opinion. I am sure itwill end most mischievously. "

"I am satisfied of it, " returned Lord Vargrave. "All vigour and unionseem to have left us; and if they carry the ----- question against us, Iknow not what is to be done. "

"For my part, I shall resign, " said Lord Saxingham, doggedly; "it is theonly alternative left to men of honour. "

"You are wrong; I know another alternative. "

"What is that?"

"Make a Cabinet of our own. Look ye, my dear lord; you been ill-used;your high character, your long experience, are treated with contempt. Itis an affront to you--the situation you hold. You, Privy Seal!--youought to be Premier; ay, and, if you are ruled by me, Premier you shallbe yet. "

Lord Saxingham coloured, and breathed hard. 

"You have often hinted at this before, Lumley; but you are so partial, sofriendly. "

"Not at all. You saw the leading article in the ----- to-day? That willbe followed up by two evening papers within five hours of this time. Wehave strength with the Press, with the Commons, with the Court, --only letus hold fast together. This ----- question, by which they hope to getrid of us, shall destroy them. You shall be Prime Minister before theyear is over--by Heaven, you shall!--and then, I suppose, I too may beadmitted to the Cabinet!"

"But how?--how, Lumley? You are too rash, too daring. "

It has not been my fault hitherto, --but boldness is caution in ourcircumstances. If they throw us out now, I see the inevitable march ofevents, --we shall be out for years, perhaps for life. The Cabinet willrecede more and more from our principles, our party. Now is the time fora determined stand; now can we make or mar ourselves. I will not resign;the king is with us; our strength shall be known. These haughtyimbeciles shall fall into the trap they have dug for us. "

Lumley spoke warmly, and with the confidence of a mind firmly assured ofsuccess. Lord Saxingham was moved; bright visions flashed acrosshim, --the premiership, a dukedom. Yet he was old and childless, and hishonours would die with the last lord of Saxingham!

"See, " continued Lumley, "I have calculated our resources as accuratelyas an electioneering agent would cast up the list of voters. In thePress, I have secured ----- and -----, and in the Commons we have thesubtle -----, and the vigour of -----, and the popular name of -----, andall the boroughs of -----; in the Cabinet we have -----, and at Court youknow our strength. Let us choose our moment; a sudden _coup_, aninterview with the king, statement of our conscientious scruples to thisatrocious measure. I know the vain, stiff mind of the premier; _he_ willlose temper, he will tender his resignation; to his astonishment, it willbe accepted. You will be sent for; we will dissolve parliament; we willstrain every nerve in the elections; we shall succeed, I know we shall. But be silent in the meanwhile, be cautious: let not a word escape you, let them think us beaten; lull suspicion asleep; let us lament ourweakness, and hint, only hint at our resignation, but with assurances ofcontinued support. I know how to blind them, if you leave it to me. "

The weak mind of the old earl was as a puppet in the hands of his boldkinsman. He feared one moment, hoped another; now his ambition wasflattered, now his sense of honour was alarmed. There was something inLumley's intrigue to oust the government with which he served that had anappearance of cunning and baseness, of which Lord Saxingham, whosepersonal character was high, by no means approved. But Vargrave talkedhim over with consummate address, and when they parted, the earl carriedhis head two inches higher, --he was preparing himself for his rise inlife. 

"That is well! that is well!" said Lumley, rubbing his hands when he wasleft alone: "the old driveller will be my _locum tenens_, till years andrenown enable me to become his successor. Meanwhile, I shall be reallywhat he will be in name. "

Here Lord Vargrave's well-fed servant, now advanced to the dignity of owngentleman and house-steward, entered the room with a letter; it had aportentous look; it was wafered, the paper was blue, the hand clerklike, there was no envelope; it bore its infernal origin on the face of it, --ITWAS A DUN'S. 

Lumley opened the epistle with an impatient pshaw! The man, asilversmith (Lumley's plate was much admired!) had applied for years invain; the amount was large, and execution was threatened! Anexecution!--it is a trifle to a rich man; but no trifle to one suspectedof being poor, one straining at that very moment at so high an object, one to whom public opinion was so necessary, one who knew that nothingbut his title, and scarcely that, saved him from the reputation of anadventurer! He must again have recourse to the money-lenders, --his smallestate was long since too deeply mortgaged to afford new security. Usury, usury, again!--he knew its price, and he sighed--but what was tobe done?

"It is but for a few months, a few months, and Evelyn must be mine. Saxingham has already lent me what he can; but he is embarrassed. Thisd-----d office, what a tax it is! and the rascals say we are too wellpaid! I, too, who could live happy in a garret, if this purse-proudEngland would but allow one to exist within one's income. Myfellow-trustee, the banker, my uncle's old correspondent--all, wellthought of! He knows the conditions of the will; he knows that, at theworst, I must have thirty thousand pounds, if I live a few months longer. I will go to him. "

CHAPTER III. 

 ANIMUM nunc hoc celerem, nunc dividit illuc. *--VIRGIL. 

 * "Now this, now that, distracts the active mind. "

THE late Mr. Templeton had been a banker in a provincial town, which wasthe centre of great commercial and agricultural activity and enterprise. He had made the bulk of his fortune in the happy days of paper currencyand war. Besides his country bank he had a considerable share in ametropolitan one of some eminence. At the time of his marriage with thepresent Lady Vargrave he retired altogether from business, and neverreturned to the place in which his wealth had been amassed. He had stillkept up a familiar acquaintance with the principal and senior partner ofthe metropolitan bank I have referred to; for he was a man who alwaysloved to talk about money matters with those who understood them. Thisgentleman, Mr. Gustavus Douce, had been named, with Lumley, joint trusteeto Evelyn's fortune. They had full powers to invest it in whatever stockseemed most safe or advantageous. The trustees appeared well chosen, asone, being destined to share the fortune, would have the deepest interestin its security; and the other, from his habits and profession, would bea most excellent adviser. 

Of Mr. Douce, Lord Vargrave had seen but little; they were not throwntogether. But Lord Vargrave, who thought every rich man might, some timeor other, become a desirable acquaintance, regularly asked him once everyyear to dinner; and twice in return he had dined with Mr. Douce, in oneof the most splendid villas, and off some of the most splendid plate ithad ever been his fortune to witness and to envy!--so that the littlefavour he was about to ask was but a slight return for Lord Vargrave'scondescension. 

He found the banker in his private sanctum, his carriage at the door; forit was just four o'clock, an hour in which Mr. Douce regularly departedto Caserta, as his aforesaid villa was somewhat affectedly styled. 

Mr. Douce was a small man, a nervous man; he did not seem quite master ofhis own limbs: when he bowed he seemed to be making you a present of hislegs; when he sat down, he twitched first on one side, then on the other, thrust his hands into his pockets, then took them out, and looked atthem, as if in astonishment, then seized upon a pen, by which they wereluckily provided with incessant occupation. Meanwhile, there was whatmight fairly be called a constant play of countenance: first he smiled, then looked grave; now raised his eyebrows, till they rose like rainbows, to the horizon of his pale, straw-coloured hair; and next darted themdown, like an avalanche, over the twinkling, restless, fluttering, littleblue eyes, which then became almost invisible. Mr. Douce had, in fact, all the appearance of a painfully shy man, which was the more strange, ashe had the reputation of enterprise, and even audacity, in the businessof his profession, and was fond of the society of the great. 

"I have called on you, my dear sir, " said Lord Vargrave, after thepreliminary salutations, "to ask a little favour, which, if the leastinconvenient, have no hesitation in refusing. You know how I am situatedwith regard to my ward, Miss Cameron; in a few months I hope she will beLady Vargrave. "

Mr. Douce showed three small teeth, which were all that, in the front ofhis mouth, fate had left him; and then, as if alarmed at the indelicacyof a smile upon such a subject, pushed back his chair, and twitched uphis blotting-paper-coloured trousers. 

"Yes, in a few months I hope she will be Lady Vargrave; and you knowthen, Mr. Douce, that I shall be in no want of money. "

"I hope--that is to say, I am sure, --that--I trust that never will be theca-ca-case with your lordship, " put in Mr. Douce, with timid hesitation. Mr. Douce, in addition to his other good qualities, stammered much in thedelivery of his sentences. 

"You are very kind, but it is the case just at present; I have great needof a few thousand pounds upon my personal security. My estate is alreadya little mortgaged, and I don't wish to encumber it more; besides, theloan would be merely temporary. You know that if at the age of eighteenMiss Cameron refuses me (a supposition out of the question, but inbusiness we must calculate on improbabilities), I claim the forfeit sheincurs, --thirty thousand pounds; you remember. "

"Oh, yes--that--is--upon my word--I--I don't exactly--but--yourlord--l-l-l-lord-lordship knows best--I have been so--so busy--I forgetthe exact--hem--hem!"

"If you just turn to the will you will see it is as I say. Now, couldyou conveniently place a few thousands to my account, just for a shorttime? But I see you don't like it. Never mind, I can get it elsewhere;only, as you were my poor uncle's friend--"

"Your lord--l-l-l-lordship is quite mistaken, " said Mr. Douce, withtrembling agitation; "upon my word, yes, a few thou-thou-thousands--to besure--to be sure. Your lordship's banker is--is--"

"Drummond--disagreeable people--by no means obliging. I shall certainlychange to your house when my accounts are better worth keeping. "

"You do me great--great honour; I will just--step--step--step out for amoment--and--and speak to Mr. Dobs;--not but what you may dependon. --Excuse me! 'Morning Chron-chron-Chronicle, ' my lord!"

Mr. Douce rose, as if by galvanism, and ran out of the room, spinninground as he ran, to declare, again and again, that he would not be gone amoment. 

"Good little fellow, that--very like an electrified frog!" murmuredVargrave, as he took up the "Morning Chronicle, " so especially pointedout to his notice; and turning to the leading article, read a veryeloquent attack on himself. Lumley was thick-skinned on such matters; heliked to be attacked, --it showed that he was up in the world. 

Presently Mr. Douce returned. To Lord Vargrave's amazement and delight, he was informed that 10, 000 pounds would be immediately lodged withMessrs. Drummond. His bill of promise to pay in three months--five percent interest--was quite sufficient. Three months was a short date; butthe bill could be renewed on the same terms, from quarter to quarter, till quite convenient to his lordship to pay. "Would Lord Vargrave dohim the honour to dine with him at Caserta next Monday?"

Lord Vargrave tried to affect apathy at his sudden accession of readymoney, but really it almost turned his head; he griped both Mr. Douce'sthin, little shivering hands, and was speechless with gratitude andecstasy. The sum, which doubled the utmost he expected, would relievehim from all his immediate embarrassments. When he recovered his voice, he thanked his dear Mr. Douce with a warmth that seemed to make thelittle man shrink into a nutshell; and assured him that he would dinewith him every Monday in the year--if he was asked! He then longed todepart; but he thought, justly, that to go as soon as he had got what hewanted would look selfish. Accordingly, he reseated himself, and so didMr. Douce, and the conversation turned upon politics and news; but Mr. Douce, who seemed to regard all things with a commercial eye, contrived, Vargrave hardly knew how, to veer round from the change in the Frenchministry to the state of the English money-market. 

"It really is, indeed, my lord--I say it, I am sure, with concern, a verybad ti-ti-ti-ti-time for men in business, --indeed, for all men; such poorinterest in the English fu-fun-funds, and yet speculations are sounsound. I recommended my friend Sir Giles Grimsby to--to invest somemoney in the American canals; a most rare res-res-respons-reponsibility, I may say, for me; I am cautious in--in recommending--but Sir Giles wasan old friend, --con-con-connection, I may say; but most providentially, all turned out--that is--fell out--as I was sure it would, --thirty percent, --and the value of the sh-sh-sh-shares doubled. But such things arevery rare, --quite godsends, I may say!"

"Well, Mr. Douce, whenever I have money to lay out, I must come andconsult you. "

"I shall be most happy at all times to--to advise your lordship; but itis not a thing I'm very fond of. There's Miss Cameron's fortune quitel-l-locked up, --three per cents and exchequer bills; why, it might havebeen a mil-mil-million by this ti-ti-time, if the good old gentleman--Ibeg pardon--old--old nobleman, my poor dear friend, had been now alive!"

"Indeed!" said Lumley, greedily, and pricking up his ears; "he was a goodmanager, my uncle!"

"None better, none better. I may say a genius for busi--hem-hem! MissCameron a young woman of bus-bus-business, my lord?"

"Not much of that, I fear. A million, did you say?"

"At least!--indeed, at least--money so scarce, speculation so sure inAmerica; great people the Americans, rising people, gi-gi-giants--giants!"

"I am wasting your whole morning, --too bad in me, " said Vargrave, as theclock struck five; "the Lords meet this evening, --important business;once more a thousand thanks to you; good day. "

"A very good day to you, my lord; don't mention it; glad at any time toser-ser-serve you, " said Mr. Douce, fidgeting, curveting, and prancinground Lord Vargrave, as the latter walked through the outer office to thecarriage. 

"Not a step more; you will catch cold. Good-by--on Monday, then, seveno'clock. The House of Lords. "

And Lumley threw himself back in his carriage in high spirits. 

CHAPTER IV. 

 OUBLIE de Tullie, et brave du Senat. * VOLTAIRE: _Brutus_, Act ii. Sc. 1. 

 * "Forgotten by Tully and bullied by the Senate. "

IN the Lords that evening the discussion was animated and prolonged, --itwas the last party debate of the session. The astute Opposition did notneglect to bring prominently, though incidentally, forward the questionon which it was whispered that there existed some growing difference inthe Cabinet. Lord Vargrave rose late. His temper was excited by thegood fortune of his day's negotiation; he felt himself of more importancethan usual, as a needy man is apt to do when he has got a large sum athis banker's; moreover, he was exasperated by some personal allusions tohimself, which had been delivered by a dignified old lord who dated hisfamily from the ark, and was as rich as Croesus. Accordingly, Vargravespoke with more than his usual vigour. His first sentences were welcomedwith loud cheers; he warmed, he grew vehement, he uttered the mostpositive and unalterable sentiments upon the question alluded to, hegreatly transgressed the discretion which the heads of his party weredesirous to maintain, --instead of conciliating without compromising, heirritated, galled, _and_ compromised. The angry cheers of the oppositeparty were loudly re-echoed by the cheers of the more hot-headed on hisown side. The premier and some of his colleagues observed, however, amoody silence. The premier once took a note, and then reseated himself, and drew his hat more closely over his brows. It was an ominous sign forLumley; but he was looking the Opposition in the face, and did notobserve it. He sat down in triumph; he had made a most effective and amost mischievous speech, --a combination extremely common. The leader ofthe Opposition replied to him with bitter calmness; and when citing someof his sharp sentences, he turned to the premier, and asked, "Are theseopinions those also of the noble lord? I call for a reply, --I have aright to demand a reply, " Lumley was startled to hear the tone in whichhis chief uttered the comprehensive and significant "_Hear, hear_!"

At midnight the premier wound up the debate; his speech was short, andcharacterized by moderation. He came to the question put to him. TheHouse was hushed, --you might have heard a pin drop; the Commoners behindthe throne pressed forward with anxiety and eagerness on theircountenances. 

"I am called upon, " said the minister, "to declare if those sentiments, uttered by my noble friend, are mine also, as the chief adviser of theCrown. My lords, in the heat of debate every word is not to bescrupulously weighed, and rigidly interpreted. " ("Hear, hear, "ironically from the Opposition, approvingly from the Treasury benches. )"My noble friend will doubtless be anxious to explain what he intended tosay. I hope, nay, I doubt not, that his explanation will be satisfactoryto the noble lord, to the House, and to the country; but since I amcalled upon for a distinct reply to a distinct interrogatory, I will sayat once, that if those sentiments be rightly interpreted by the noblelord who spoke last, those sentiments are not mine, and will neveranimate the conduct of any cabinet of which I am a member. "(Long-continued cheering from the Opposition. ) "At the same time, I amconvinced that my noble friend's meaning has not been rightly construed;and till I hear from himself to the contrary, I will venture to statewhat I think he designed to convey to your lordships. " Here the premier, with a tact that nobody could be duped by, but every one could admire, stripped Lord Vargrave's unlucky sentences of every syllable that couldgive offence to any one; and left the pointed epigrams and vehementdenunciations a most harmless arrangement of commonplace. 

The House was much excited; there was a call for Lord Vargrave, and LordVargrave promptly rose. It was one of those dilemmas out of which Lumleywas just the man to extricate himself with address. There was so muchmanly frankness in his manner, there was so much crafty subtlety in hismind! He complained, with proud and honest bitterness, of theconstruction that had been forced upon his words by the Opposition. "If, " he added (and no man knew better the rhetorical effect of the _tuquoque form of argument), --"if every sentence uttered by the noble lordopposite in his zeal for liberty had, in days now gone by, been construedwith equal rigour, or perverted with equal ingenuity, that noble lord hadlong since been prosecuted as an incendiary, perhaps executed as atraitor!" Vehement cheers from the ministerial benches; cries of"Order!" from the Opposition. A military lord rose to order, andappealed to the Woolsack. 

Lumley sat down as if chafed at the interruption; he had produced theeffect he had desired, --he had changed the public question at issue intoa private quarrel; a new excitement was created; dust was thrown into theeyes of the House. Several speakers rose to accommodate matters; andafter half-an-hour of public time had been properly wasted, the noblelord on the one side and the noble lord on the other duly explained, paideach other the highest possible compliments, and Lumley was left toconclude his vindication, which now seemed a comparatively flat matterafter the late explosion. He completed his task so as to satisfy, apparently, all parties--for all parties were now tired of the thing, andwanted to go to bed. But the next morning there were whispers about thetown, articles in the different papers, evidently by authority, rejoicings among the Opposition, and a general feeling that though theGovernment might keep together that session, its dissensions would breakout before the next meeting of parliament. 

As Lumley was wrapping himself in his cloak after this stormy debate, theMarquess of Raby--a peer of large possessions, and one who entirelyagreed with Lumley's views--came up to him, and proposed that they shouldgo home together in Lord Raby's carriage. Vargrave willingly consented, and dismissed his own servants. 

"You did that admirably, my dear Vargrave!" said Lord Raby, when theywere seated in the carriage. "I quite coincide in all your sentiments; Ideclare my blood boiled when I heard ----- [the premier] appear halfinclined to throw you over. Your hit upon ----- was first-rate, --he willnot get over it for a month; and you extricated yourself well. "

"I am glad you approve my conduct, --it comforts me, " said Vargrave, feelingly; "at the same time I see all the consequences; but I can braveall for the sake of character and conscience. "

"I feel just as you do!" replied Lord Raby, with some warmth; "and if Ithought that ----- meant to yield to this question, I should certainlyoppose his administration. "

Vargrave shook his head, and held his tongue, which gave Lord Raby a highidea of his discretion. 

After a few more observations on political matters, Lord Raby invitedLumley to pay him a visit at his country-seat. 

"I am going to Knaresdean next Monday; you know we have races in thepark, and really they are sometimes good sport; at all events, it is avery pretty sight. There will be nothing in the Lords now, --the recessis just at hand; and if you can spare the time, Lady Raby and myself willbe delighted to see you. "

"You may be sure, my dear lord, I cannot refuse your invitation; indeed, I intended to visit your county next week. You know, perhaps, a Mr. Merton. "

"Charles Merton?--to be sure; most respectable man, capital fellow, thebest parson in the county, --no cant, but thoroughly orthodox; hecertainly keeps in his brother, who, though a very active member, is whatI call a waverer on certain questions. Have you known Merton long?"

"I don't know him at all as yet; my acquaintance is with his wife anddaughter, --a very fine girl, by the by. My ward, Miss Cameron, isstaying with them. "

"Miss Cameron! Cameron--ah, I understand. I think I have heard that--But gossip does not always tell the truth!"

Lumley smiled significantly, and the carriage now stopped at his door. 

"Perhaps you will take a seat in our carriage on Monday?" said Lord Raby. 

"Monday? Unhappily I am engaged; but on Tuesday your lordship may expectme. "

"Very well; the races begin on Wednesday: we shall have a full house. Good-night. "

CHAPTER V. 

 HOMUNCULI quanti sunt, cum recogito. *--PLAUTUS. 

 * "When I reflect, how great your little men are in their own consideration!"

IT is obvious that for many reasons we must be brief upon the politicalintrigue in which the scheming spirit of Lord Vargrave was employed. Itwould, indeed, be scarcely possible to preserve the necessary mediumbetween too plain a revelation and too complex a disguise. It suffices, therefore, very shortly to repeat what the reader has already gatheredfrom what has gone before; namely, that the question at issue was onewhich has happened often enough in all governments, --one on which theCabinet was divided, and in which the weaker party was endeavouring toout-trick the stronger. 

The malcontents, foreseeing that sooner or later the head of thegathering must break, were again divided among themselves whether toresign, or to stay in and strive to force a resignation on theirdissentient colleagues. The richer and the more honest were for theformer course; the poorer and the more dependent for the latter. We haveseen that the latter policy was that espoused and recommended byVargrave, who, though not in the Cabinet, always contrived somehow orother to worm out its secrets. At the same time he by no means rejectedthe other string to his bow. If it were possible so to arrange and tostrengthen his faction, that, by the _coup d'etat_ of a suddenresignation in a formidable body, the whole Government might be brokenup, and a new one formed from among the resignees, it would obviously bethe best plan. But then Lord Vargrave was doubtful of his own strength, and fearful to play into the hands of his colleagues, who might be ableto stand even better without himself and his allies, and by conciliatingthe Opposition take a step onward in political movement, --which mightleave Vargrave placeless and powerless for years to come. 

He repented his own rashness in the recent debate, which was, indeed, apremature boldness that had sprung out of momentary excitement--for thecraftiest orator must be indiscreet sometimes. He spent the next fewdays in alternately seeking to explain away to one party, and to sound, unite, and consolidate the other. His attempts in the one quarter werereceived by the premier with the cold politeness of an offended butcareful statesman, who believed just as much as he chose, and preferredtaking his own opportunity for a breach with a subordinate to risking anyimprudence by the gratification of resentment. In the last quarter, thepenetrating adventurer saw that his ground was more insecure than he hadanticipated. He perceived in dismay and secret rage that many of thosemost loud in his favour while he was with the Government would desert himthe soonest if thrown out. Liked as a subordinate minister, he wasviewed with very different eyes the moment it was a question whether, instead of cheering his sentiments, men should trust themselves to hisguidance. Some did not wish to displease the Government; others did notseek to weaken but to correct them. One of his stanchest allies in theCommons was a candidate for a peerage; another suddenly remembered thathe was second cousin to the premier. Some laughed at the idea of apuppet premier in Lord Saxingham; others insinuated to Vargrave that hehimself was not precisely of that standing in the country which wouldcommand respect to a new party, of which, if not the head, he would bethe mouthpiece. For themselves they knew, admired, and trusted him; butthose d-----d country gentlemen--and the dull public!

Alarmed, wearied, and disgusted, the schemer saw himself reduced tosubmission, for the present at least; and more than ever he felt thenecessity of Evelyn's fortune to fall back upon, if the chance of thecards should rob him of his salary. He was glad to escape for abreathing-while from the vexations and harassments that beset him, andlooked forward with the eager interest of a sanguine and elasticmind--always escaping from one scheme to another--to his excursion intoB-----shire. 

At the villa of Mr. Douce, Lord Vargrave met a young nobleman who hadjust succeeded to a property not only large and unencumbered, but of anature to give him importance in the eyes of politicians. Situated in avery small county, the estates of Lord Doltimore secured to hisnomination at least one of the representatives, while a little village atthe back of his pleasure-grounds constituted a borough, and returned twomembers to parliament. Lord Doltimore, just returned from the Continent, had not even taken his seat in the Lords; and though his familyconnections, such as they were--and they were not very high, and by nomeans in the fashion--were ministerial, his own opinions were as yetunrevealed. 

To this young nobleman Lord Vargrave was singularly attentive. He waswell formed to attract men younger than himself, and he eminentlysucceeded in his designs upon Lord Doltimore's affection. 

His lordship was a small, pale man, with a very limited share ofunderstanding, supercilious in manner, elaborate in dress, notill-natured _au fond_, and with much of the English gentleman in hisdisposition, --that is, he was honourable in his ideas and actions, whenever his natural dulness and neglected education enabled him clearlyto perceive (through the midst of prejudices, the delusions of others, and the false lights of the dissipated society in which he had lived)what was right and what wrong. But his leading characteristics werevanity and conceit. He had lived much with younger sons, cleverer thanhimself, who borrowed his money, sold him their horses, and won from himat cards. In return they gave him all that species of flattery whichyoung men _can_ give with so hearty an appearance of cordial admiration. "You certainly have the best horses in Paris. You are really a devilishgood fellow, Doltimore. Oh, do you know, Doltimore, what little Desiresays of you? You have certainly turned the girl's head. "

This sort of adulation from one sex was not corrected by any greatacerbity from the other. Lord Doltimore at the age of twenty-two was avery good _parti_; and, whatever his other deficiencies, he had senseenough to perceive that he received much greater attention--whether fromopera-dancers in search of a friend, or virtuous young ladies in searchof a husband--than any of the companions, good-looking though many ofthem were, with whom he had habitually lived. 

"You will not long remain in town now the season is over?" said Vargrave, as after dinner he found himself, by the departure of the ladies, next toLord Doltimore. 

"No, indeed; even in the season I don't much like London. Paris hasrather spoiled me for any other place. "

"Paris is certainly very charming; the ease of French life has afascination that our formal ostentation wants. Nevertheless, to a manlike you, London must have many attractions. "

"Why, I have a good many friends here; but still, after Ascot, it ratherbores me. "

"Have you any horses on the turf?"

"Not yet; but Legard (you know Legard, perhaps, --a very good fellow) isanxious that I should try my luck. I was very fortunate in the races atParis--you know we have established racing there. The French take to itquite naturally. "

"Ah, indeed! It is so long since I have been in Paris--most excitingamusement! _A propos_ of races, I am going down to Lord Raby'sto-morrow; I think I saw in one of the morning papers that you had verylargely backed a horse entered at Knaresdean. "

"Yes, Thunderer--I think of buying Thunderer. Legard--Colonel Legard (hewas in the Guards, but he sold out)--is a good judge, and recommends thepurchase. How very odd that you too should be going to Knaresdean!"

"Odd, indeed, but most lucky! We can go together, if you are not betterengaged. "

Lord Doltimore coloured and hesitated. On the one hand he was a littleafraid of being alone with so clever a man; on the other hand, it was anhonour, --it was something for him to talk of to Legard. Nevertheless, the shyness got the better of the vanity. He excused himself; he fearedhe was engaged to take down Legard. 

Lumley smiled, and changed the conversation; and so agreeable did he makehimself, that when the party broke up, and Lumley had just shaken handswith his host, Doltimore came to him, and said in a little confusion, --

"I think I can put off Legard--if--if you--"

"That's delightful! What time shall we start?--need not get down muchbefore dinner--one o'clock?"

"Oh, yes! not too long before dinner; one o'clock will be a little tooearly. "

"Two then. Where are you staying?"

"At Fenton's. "

"I will call for you. Good-night! I long to see Thunderer!"

CHAPTER VI. 

 LA sante de l'ame n'est pas plus assuree que celle du corps; et quoique l'on paraisse eloigne des passions, on n'est pas moins en danger de s'y laisser emporter que de tomber malade quand on se porte bien. *--LA ROCHEFOUCAULD. 

 * "The health of the soul is not more sure than that of the body; and although we may appear free from passions, there is not the less danger of their attack than of falling sick at the moment we are well. "

IN spite of the efforts of Maltravers to shun all occasions of meetingEvelyn, they were necessarily sometimes thrown together in the round ofprovincial hospitalities; and certainly, if either Mr. Merton or Caroline(the shrewder observer of the two) had ever formed any suspicion thatEvelyn had made a conquest of Maltravers, his manner at such timeseffectually removed it. 

Maltravers was a man to feel deeply, but no longer a boy to yield toevery tempting impulse. I have said that FORTITUDE was his favouritevirtue, but fortitude is the virtue of great and rare occasions; therewas another, equally hard-favoured and unshowy, which he took as thestaple of active and every-day duties, and that virtue was JUSTICE. Now, in earlier life, he had been enamoured of the conventional Florimel thatwe call HONOUR, --a shifting and shadowy phantom, that is but the reflexof the opinion of the time and clime. But justice has in it somethingpermanent and solid; and out of justice arises the real not the falsehonour. 

"Honour!" said Maltravers, --"honour is to justice as the flower to theplant, --its efflorescence, its bloom, its consummation! But honour thatdoes not spring from justice is but a piece of painted rag, an artificialrose, which the men-milliners of society would palm upon us as morenatural than the true. "

This principle of justice Maltravers sought to carry out in allthings--not, perhaps, with constant success; for what practice can alwaysembody theory?--but still, at least his endeavour at success wasconstant. This, perhaps, it was which had ever kept him from theexcesses to which exuberant and liberal natures are prone, from theextravagances of pseudo-genius. 

"No man, for instance, " he was wont to say, "can be embarrassed in hisown circumstances, and not cause embarrassment to others. Withouteconomy, who can be just? And what are charity, generosity, but thepoetry and the beauty of justice?"

No man ever asked Maltravers twice for a just debt; and no man ever onceasked him to fulfil a promise. You felt that, come what would, you mightrely upon his word. To him might have been applied the witty eulogiumpassed by Johnson upon a certain nobleman: "If he had promised you anacorn, and the acorn season failed in England, he would have sent toNorway for one!"

It was not, therefore, the mere Norman and chivalrous spirit of honour, which he had worshipped in youth as a part of the Beautiful and theBecoming, but which in youth had yielded to temptation, as a _sentiment_ever must yield to a passion, but it was the more hard, stubborn, andreflective _principle_, which was the later growth of deeper and noblerwisdom, that regulated the conduct of Maltravers in this crisis of hislife. Certain it is, that he had never but once loved as he lovedEvelyn; and yet that he never yielded so little to the passion. 

"If engaged to another, " thought he, "that engagement it is not for athird person to attempt to dissolve. I am the last to form a rightjudgment of the strength or weakness of the bonds which unite her toVargrave, for my emotions would prejudice me despite myself. I may fancythat her betrothed is not worthy of her, --but that is for her to decide. While the bond lasts, who can be justified in tempting her to break it?"

Agreeably to these notions, which the world may, perhaps, consideroverstrained, whenever Maltravers met Evelyn, he intrenched himself in arigid and almost a chilling formality. How difficult this was with oneso simple and ingenuous! Poor Evelyn! she thought she had offended him;she longed to ask him her offence, --perhaps, in her desire to rouse hisgenius into exertion, she had touched some secret sore, some latent woundof the memory? She recalled all their conversations again and again. Ah, why could they not be renewed? Upon her fancy and her thoughtsMaltravers had made an impression not to be obliterated. She wrote morefrequently than ever to Lady Vargrave, and the name of Maltravers wasfound in every page of her correspondence. 

One evening, at the house of a neighbour, Miss Cameron (with the Mertons)entered the room almost in the same instant as Maltravers. The party wassmall, and so few had yet arrived that it was impossible for Maltravers, without marked rudeness, to avoid his friends from the rectory; and Mrs. Merton, placing herself next to Evelyn, graciously motioned to Maltraversto occupy the third vacant seat on the sofa, of which she filled thecentre. 

"We grudge all your improvements, Mr. Maltravers, since they cost us yoursociety. But we know that our dull circle must seem tame to one who hasseen so much. However, we expect to offer you an inducement soon in LordVargrave. What a lively, agreeable person he is!"

Maltravers raised his eyes to Evelyn, calmly and penetratingly, at thelatter part of this speech. He observed that she turned pale, and sighedinvoluntarily. 

"He had great spirits when I knew him, " said he; "and he had then lesscause to make him happy. "

Mrs. Merton smiled, and turned rather pointedly towards Evelyn. 

Maltravers continued, "I never met the late lord. He had none of thevivacity of his nephew, I believe. "

"I have heard that he was very severe, " said Mrs. Merton, lifting herglass towards a party that had just entered. 

"Severe!" exclaimed Evelyn. "Ah, if you could have known him! thekindest, the most indulgent--no one ever loved me as he did. " Shepaused, for she felt her lip quiver. 

"I beg your pardon, my dear, " said Mrs. Merton, coolly. Mrs. Merton hadno idea of the pain inflicted by _treading upon a feeling_. Maltraverswas touched, and Mrs. Merton went on. "No wonder he was kind to you, Evelyn, --a brute would be that; but he was generally considered a sternman. "

"I never saw a stern look, I never heard a harsh word; nay, I do notremember that he ever even used the word 'command, '" said Evelyn, almostangrily. 

Mrs. Merton was about to reply, when suddenly seeing a lady whose littlegirl had been ill of the measles, her motherly thoughts flowed into a newchannel, and she fluttered away in that sympathy which unites all theheads of a growing family. Evelyn and Maltravers were left alone. 

"You do not remember your father, I believe?" said Maltravers. 

"No father but Lord Vargrave; while he lived, I never knew the loss ofone. "

"Does your mother resemble you?"

"Ah, I wish I could think so; it is the sweetest countenance!"

"Have you no picture of her?"

"None; she would never consent to sit. "

"Your father was a Cameron; I have known some of that name. "

"No relation of ours: my mother says we have none living. "

"And have we no chance of seeing Lady Vargrave in B-----shire?"

"She never leaves home; but I hope to return soon to Brook-Green. "

Maltravers sighed, and the conversation took a new turn. 

"I have to thank you for the books you so kindly sent; I ought to havereturned them ere this, " said Evelyn. 

"I have no use for them. Poetry has lost its charm for me, --especiallythat species of poetry which unites with the method and symmetrysomething of the coldness of Art. How did you like Alfieri?"

"His language is a kind of Spartan French, " answered Evelyn, in one ofthose happy expressions which every now and then showed the quickness ofher natural talent. 

"Yes, " said Maltravers, smiling, "the criticism is acute. Poor Alfieri!in his wild life and his stormy passions he threw out all the redundanceof his genius; and his poetry is but the representative of his thoughts, not his emotions. Happier the man of genius who lives upon his reason, and wastes feeling only on his verse!"

"You do not think that we _waste_ feeling upon human beings?" saidEvelyn, with a pretty laugh. 

"Ask me that question when you have reached my years, and can look uponfields on which you have lavished your warmest hopes, your noblestaspirations, your tenderest affections, and see the soil all profitlessand barren. 'Set not your heart on the things of earth, ' saith thePreacher. "

Evelyn was affected by the tone, the words, and the melancholycountenance of the speaker. "You, of all men, ought not to think thus, "said she, with a sweet eagerness; "you who have done so much to awakenand to soften the heart in others; you--who--" she stopped short, andadded, more gravely. "Ah, Mr. Maltravers, I cannot reason with you, butI can hope you will refute your own philosophy. "

"Were your wish fulfilled, " answered Maltravers, almost with sternness, and with an expression of great pain in his compressed lips, "I shouldhave to thank you for much misery. " He rose abruptly, and turned away. 

"How have I offended him?" thought Evelyn, sorrowfully; "I never speakbut to wound him. What _have_ I done?"

She could have wished, in her simple kindness, to follow him, and makepeace; but he was now in a coterie of strangers; and shortly afterwardshe left the room, and she did not see him again for weeks. 

CHAPTER VII. 

 NIHIL est aliud magnum quam multa minuta. *--VETUS. AUCTOR. 

 * "There is nothing so great as the collection of the minute. "

AN anxious event disturbed the smooth current of cheerful life at MertonRectory. One morning when Evelyn came down, she missed little Sophy, whohad contrived to establish for herself the undisputed privilege of astool beside Miss Cameron at breakfast. Mrs. Merton appeared with agraver face than usual. Sophy was unwell, was feverish; the scarletfever had been in the neighbourhood. Mrs. Merton was very uneasy. 

"It is the more unlucky, Caroline, " added the mother, turning to MissMerton, "because to-morrow, you know, we were to have spent a few days atKnaresdean to see the races. If poor Sophy does not get better, I fearyou and Miss Cameron must go without me. I can send to Mrs. Hare to beyour chaperon; she would be delighted. "

"Poor Sophy!" said Caroline; "I am very sorry to hear she is unwell; butI think Taylor would take great care of her; you surely need not stay, unless she is much worse. "

Mrs. Merton, who, tame as she seemed, was a fond and attentive mother, shook her head and said nothing; but Sophy was much worse before noon. The doctor was sent for, and pronounced it to be the scarlet fever. 

It was now necessary to guard against the infection. Caroline had hadthe complaint, and she willingly shared in her mother's watch of love fortwo or three hours. Mrs. Merton gave up the party. Mrs. Hare (the wifeof a rich squire in the neighbourhood) was written to, and that ladywillingly agreed to take charge of Caroline and her friend. 

Sophy had been left asleep. When Mrs. Merton returned to her bed, shefound Evelyn quietly stationed there. This alarmed her, for Evelyn hadnever had the scarlet fever, and had been forbidden the sick-room. Butpoor little Sophy had waked and querulously asked for her dear Evy; andEvy, who had been hovering round the room, heard the inquiry from thegarrulous nurse, and come in she would; and the child gazed at her sobeseechingly, when Mrs. Merton entered, and said so piteously, "Don'ttake Evy away, " that Evelyn stoutly declared that she was not the leastafraid of infection, and stay she must. Nay, her share in the nursingwould be the more necessary since Caroline was to go to Knaresdean thenext day. 

"But you go too, my dear Miss Cameron?"

"Indeed I could not. I don't care for races, I never wished to go, Iwould much sooner have stayed; and I am sure Sophy will not get wellwithout me, --will you, dear?"

"Oh, yes, yes; if I'm to keep you from the nice races, I should be worseif I thought that. "

"But I don't like the nice races, Sophy, as your sister Carry does; shemust go, --they can't do without her; but nobody knows me, so I shall notbe missed. "

"I can't hear of such a thing, " said Mrs. Merton, with tears in her eyes;and Evelyn said no more then. But the next morning Sophy was stillworse, and the mother was too anxious and too sad to think more ofceremony and politeness, so Evelyn stayed. 

A momentary pang shot across Evelyn's breast when all was settled; butshe suppressed the sigh which accompanied the thought that she had lostthe only opportunity she might have for weeks of seeing Maltravers. Tothat chance she had indeed looked forward with interest and timidpleasure. The chance was lost; but why should it vex her, --what was heto her?

Caroline's heart smote her, as she came into the room in her lilac bonnetand new dress; and little Sophy, turning on her eyes which, thoughlanguid, still expressed a child's pleasure at the sight of finery, exclaimed, "How nice and pretty you look, Carry! Do take Evy withyou, --Evy looks pretty too!"

Caroline kissed the child in silence, and paused irresolute; glanced ather dress, and then at Evelyn, who smiled on her without a thought ofenvy; and she had half a mind to stay too, when her mother entered with aletter from Lord Vargrave. It was short: he should be at the Knaresdeanraces, hoped to meet them there, and accompany them home. Thisinformation re-decided Caroline, while it rewarded Evelyn. In a fewminutes more, Mrs. Hare arrived; and Caroline, glad to escape, perhaps, her own compunction, hurried into the carriage, with a hasty "God blessyou all! Don't fret--I'm sure she will be well to-morrow; and mind, Evelyn, you don't catch the fever!" Mr. Merton looked grave and sighed, as he handed her into the carriage; but when, seated there, she turnedround and kissed her hand at him, she looked so handsome anddistinguished, that a sentiment of paternal pride smoothed down hisvexation at her want of feeling. He himself gave up the visit; but alittle time after, when Sophy fell into a tranquil sleep, he thought hemight venture to canter across the country to the race-ground, and returnto dinner. 

Days--nay, a whole week passed, the races were over, but Caroline had notreturned. Meanwhile, Sophy's fever left her; she could quit her bed, herroom; she could come downstairs now, and the family was happy. It isastonishing how the least ailment in those little things stops the wheelsof domestic life! Evelyn fortunately had not caught the fever: she waspale, and somewhat reduced by fatigue and confinement; but she was amplyrepaid by the mother's swimming look of quiet gratitude, the father'spressure of the hand, Sophy's recovery, and her own good heart. They hadheard twice from Caroline, putting off her return: Lady Raby was so kind, she could not get away till the party broke up; she was so glad to hearsuch an account of Sophy. 

Lord Vargrave had not yet arrived at the rectory to stay; but he hadtwice ridden over, and remained there some hours. He exerted himself tothe utmost to please Evelyn; and she--who, deceived by his manners, andinfluenced by the recollections of long and familiar acquaintance, wasblinded to his real character--reproached herself more bitterly than everfor her repugnance to his suit and her ungrateful hesitation to obey thewishes of her stepfather. 

To the Mertons, Lumley spoke with good-natured praise of Caroline; shewas so much admired; she was the beauty at Knaresdean. A certain youngfriend of his, Lord Doltimore, was evidently smitten. The parentsthought much over the ideas conjured up by that last sentence. 

One morning, the garrulous Mrs. Hare, the gossip of the neighbourhood, called at the rectory; she had returned, two days before, fromKnaresdean; and she, too, had her tale to tell of Caroline's conquests. 

"I assure you, my dear Mrs. Merton, if we had not all known that hisheart was pre-occupied, we should have thought that Lord Vargrave was herwarmest admirer. Most charming man, Lord Vargrave! but as for LordDoltimore, it was quite a flirtation. Excuse _me_: no scandal, you know, ha, ha! a fine young man, but stiff and reserved, --not the fascination ofLord Vargrave. "

"Does Lord Raby return to town, or is he now at Knaresdean for theautumn?"

"He goes on Friday, I believe: very few of the guests are left now. LadyA. And Lord B. , and Lord Vargrave and your daughter, and Mr. Legard andLord Doltimore, and Mrs. And the Misses Cipher; all the rest went thesame day I did. "

"Indeed!" said Mrs. Merton, in some surprise. 

"Ah, I read your thoughts: you wonder that Miss Caroline has not comeback, --is not that it? But perhaps Lord Doltimore--ha, ha!--no scandalnow--do excuse _me_!"

"Was Mr. Maltravers at Knaresdean?" asked Mrs. Merton, anxious to changethe subject, and unprepared with any other question. Evelyn was cuttingout a paper horse for Sophy, who--all her high spirits flown--was lyingon the sofa, and wistfully following her fairy fingers. "Naughty Evy, you have cut off the horse's head!"

"Mr. Maltravers? No, I think not; no, he was not there. Lord Raby askedhim pointedly to come, and was, I know, much disappointed that he didnot. But _a propos_ of Mr. Maltravers: I met him not a quarter of anhour ago, this morning, as I was coming to you. You know we have leaveto come through his park, and as I was in the park at the time, I stoppedthe carriage to speak to him. I told him that I was coming here, andthat you had had the scarlet fever in the house, which was the reason youhad not gone to the races; and he turned quite pale, and seemed soalarmed. I said we were all afraid that Miss Cameron should catch it;and, excuse me--ah, ah!--no scandal, I hope--but--"

"Mr. Maltravers, " said the butler, throwing open the door. Maltraversentered with a quick and even a hurried step. He stopped short when hesaw Evelyn; and his whole countenance was instantly lightened up by ajoyous expression, which as suddenly died away. 

"This is kind, indeed, " said Mrs. Merton; "it is so long since we haveseen you. "

"I have been very much occupied, " muttered Maltravers, almost inaudibly, and seated himself next Evelyn. "I only just heard--that--that you hadsickness in the house. Miss Cameron, you look pale--you--you have notsuffered, I hope?"

"No, I am quite well, " said Evelyn, with a smile; and she felt happy thather friend was kind to her once more. 

"It's only me, Mr. Ernest, " said Sophy; "you have forgot me. "

Maltravers hastened to vindicate himself from the charge, and Sophy andhe were soon made excellent friends again. Mrs. Hare, whom surprise atthis sudden meeting had hitherto silenced, and who longed to shape intoelegant periphrasis the common adage, "Talk of, " etc. , now once moreopened her budget. She tattled on, first to one, then to the other, thento all, till she had tattled herself out of breath; and then the orthodoxhalf-hour was expired, and the bell was rung, and the carriage ordered, and Mrs. Hare rose to depart. 

"Do just come to the door, Mrs. Merton, " said she, "and look at mypony-phaeton, it is so pretty; Lady Raby admires it so much; you ought tohave just such another. " As she spoke, she favoured Mrs. Merton with asignificant glance, that said, as plainly as glance could say, "I havesomething to communicate. " Mrs. Merton took the hint, and followed thegood lady out of the room. 

"Do you know, my dear Mrs. Merton, " said Mrs. Hare, in a whisper, whenthey were safe in the billiard-room, that interposed between theapartment they had left and the hall; "do you know whether Lord Vargraveand Mr. Maltravers are very good friends?"

"No, indeed; why do you ask?"

"Oh, because when I was speaking to Lord Vargrave about him, he shook hishead; and really I don't remember what his lordship said, but he seemedto speak as if there was a little soreness. And then he inquired veryanxiously if Mr. Maltravers was much at the rectory; and lookeddiscomposed when he found you were such near neighbours. You'll excuseme, you know--ha, ha! but we're such old friends!--and if Lord Vargraveis coming to stay here, it might be unpleasant to meet--you'll excuse_me_. I took the liberty to tell him he need not be jealous of Mr. Maltravers--ha, ha!--not a marrying man at all. But I did think MissCaroline was the attraction--you'll excuse me--no scandal--ha, ha! But, after all, Lord Doltimore must be the man. Well, good morning, I thoughtI'd just give you this hint. Is not the phaeton pretty? Kindcompliments to Mr. Merton. "

And the lady drove off. 

During this confabulation, Maltravers and Evelyn were left alone withSophy. Maltravers had continued to lean over the child, and appearedlistening to her prattle; while Evelyn, having risen to shake hands withMrs. Hare, did not reseat herself, but went to the window, and busiedherself with a flower-stand in the recess. 

"Oh, very fine, Mr. Ernest, " said Sophy (always pronouncing that propername as if it ended in _th_), "you care very much for us to stay away solong, --don't he, Evy? I've a great mind not to speak to you, sir, that Ihave!"

"That would be too heavy a punishment, Miss Sophy, only, luckily, itwould punish yourself; you could not live without talking--talk--talk--talk!"

"But I might never have talked more, Mr. Ernest, if Mamma and pretty Evyhad not been so kind to me;" and the child shook her head mournfully, asif she had _pitie de soi-meme_. "But you won't stay away so long again, will you? Sophy play to-morrow; come to-morrow, and swing Sophy; no niceswinging since you've been gone. "

While Sophy spoke Evelyn turned half round, as if to hear Maltraversanswer; he hesitated, and Evelyn spoke. 

"You must not tease Mr. Maltravers so; Mr. Maltravers has too much to doto come to us. "

Now this was a very pettish speech in Evelyn, and her cheek glowed whileshe spoke; but an arch, provoking smile was on her lips. 

"It can be a privation only to me, Miss Cameron, " said Maltravers, rising, and attempting in vain to resist the impulse that drew himtowards the window. The reproach in her tone and words at once painedand delighted him; and then this scene, the suffering child, brought backto him his first interview with Evelyn herself. He forgot, for themoment, the lapse of time, the new ties she had formed, his ownresolutions. 

"That is a bad compliment to us, " answered Evelyn, ingenuously; "do youthink we are so little worthy your society as not to value it? But, perhaps" (she added, sinking her voice) "perhaps you have beenoffended--perhaps I--I--said--something that--that hurt you!"

"You!" repeated Maltravers, with emotion. 

Sophy, who had been attentively listening, here put in, "Shake hands andmake it up with Evy--you've been quarrelling, naughty Ernest!"

Evelyn laughed, and tossed back her sunny ringlets. "I think Sophy isright, " said she, with enchanting simplicity; "let us make it up, " andshe held out her hand to Maltravers. 

Maltravers pressed the fair hand to his lips. "Alas!" said he, affectedwith various feelings which gave a tremor to his deep voice, "your onlyfault is that your society makes me discontented with my solitary home;and as solitude must be my fate in life, I seek to inure myself to itbetimes. "

Here--whether opportunely or not, it is for the reader to decide--Mrs. Merton returned to the room. 

She apologized for her absence, talked of Mrs. Hare and the little MasterHares, --fine boys, but noisy; and then she asked Maltravers if he hadseen Lord Vargrave since his lordship had been in the county. Maltraversreplied, with coldness, that he had not had that honour: that Vargravehad called on him in his way from the rectory the other day, but that hewas from home, and that he had not seen him for some years. 

"He is a person of most prepossessing manners, " said Mrs. Merton. 

"Certainly, --most prepossessing. "

"And very clever. "

"He has great talents. "

"He seems most amiable. "

Maltravers bowed, and glanced towards Evelyn, whose face, however, wasturned from him. 

The turn the conversation had taken was painful to the visitor, and herose to depart. 

"Perhaps, " said Mrs. Merton, "you will meet Lord Vargrave at dinnerto-morrow; he will stay with us a few days, --as long as he can bespared. "

Maltravers meet Lord Vargrave! the happy Vargrave, the betrothed toEvelyn! Maltravers witness the familiar rights, the enchantingprivileges, accorded to another! and that other one whom he could notbelieve worthy of Evelyn! He writhed at the picture the invitationconjured up. 

"You are very kind, my dear Mrs. Merton, but I expect a visitor atBurleigh, --an old and dear friend, Mr. Cleveland. "

"Mr. Cleveland!--we shall be delighted to see him too. We knew him manyyears ago, during your minority, when he used to visit Burleigh two orthree times a year. "

"He is changed since then; he is often an invalid. I fear I cannotanswer for him; but he will call as soon as he arrives, and apologize forhimself. "

Maltravers then hastily took his departure. He would not trust himselfto do more than bow distantly to Evelyn; she looked at him reproachfully. So, then, it was really premeditated and resolved upon--his absence fromthe rectory; and why? She was grieved, she was offended--but moregrieved than offended, --perhaps because esteem, interest, admiration, aremore tolerant and charitable than love. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

 _Arethusa_. 'Tis well, my lord, your courting of ladies. 

 . . . . . . 

 _Claremont_. Sure this lady has a good turn done her against her will. 

 PHILASTER. 

In the breakfast-room at Knaresdean, the same day, and almost at the samehour, in which occurred the scene and conversation at the rectoryrecorded in our last chapter, sat Lord Vargrave and Caroline alone. Theparty had dispersed, as was usual, at noon. They heard at a distance thesounds of the billiard-balls. Lord Doltimore was playing with ColonelLegard, one of the best players in Europe, but who, fortunately forDoltimore, had of late made it a rule never to play for money. Mrs. Andthe Misses Cipher, and most of the guests, were in the billiard-roomlooking on. Lady Raby was writing letters, and Lord Raby riding over hishome farm. Caroline and Lumley had been for some time in close andearnest conversation. Miss Merton was seated in a large armchair, muchmoved, with her handkerchief to her eyes. Lord Vargrave, with his backto the chimney-piece, was bending down and speaking in a very low voice, while his quick eye glanced, ever and anon, from the lady's countenanceto the windows, to the doors, to be prepared against any interruption. 

"No, my dear friend, " said he, "believe me that I am sincere. Myfeelings for you are, indeed, such as no words can paint. "

"Then why--"

"Why wish you wedded to another; why wed another myself? Caroline, Ihave often before explained to you that we are in this the victims of aninevitable fate. It is absolutely necessary that I should wed MissCameron. I never deceived you from the first. I should have lovedher, --my heart would have accompanied my hand, but for your too seductivebeauty, your superior mind!--yes, Caroline, your mind attracted me morethan your beauty. Your mind seemed kindred to my own, --inspired with theproper and wise ambition which regards the fools of the world as puppets, as counters, as chessmen. For myself, a very angel from heaven could notmake me give up the great game of life, yield to my enemies, slip fromthe ladder, unravel the web I have woven! Share my heart, my friendship, my schemes! this is the true and dignified affection that should existbetween minds like ours; all the rest is the prejudice of children. "

"Vargrave, I am ambitious, worldly: I own it; but I could give up all foryou!"

"You think so, for you do not know the sacrifice. You see me nowapparently rich, in power, courted; and this fate you are willing toshare; and this fate you _should_ share, were it the real one I couldbestow on you. But reverse the medal. Deprived of office, fortune gone, debts pressing, destitution notorious, the ridicule of embarrassments, the disrepute attached to poverty and defeated ambition, an exile in someforeign town on the poor pension to which alone I should be entitled, amendicant on the public purse; and that, too, so eaten into by demandsand debts, that there is not a grocer in the next market-town who wouldenvy the income of the retired minister! Retire, fallen, despised, inthe prime of life, in the zenith of my hopes! Suppose that I could bearthis for myself, could I bear it for you? _You_, born to be the ornamentof courts! And you could you see me thus--life embittered, careerlost--and feel, generous as you are, that your love had entailed on me, on us both, on our children, this miserable lot! Impossible, Caroline! weare too wise for such romance. It is not because we love too little, butbecause our love is worthy of each other, that we disdain to make love acurse! We cannot wrestle against the world, but we may shake hands withit, and worm the miser out of its treasures. My heart must be everyours; my hand must be Miss Cameron's. Money I must have, --my wholecareer depends on it. It is literally with me the highwayman'schoice, --money or life. " Vargrave paused, and took Caroline's hand. 

"I cannot reason with you, " said she; "you know the strange empire youhave obtained over me, and, certainly, in spite of all that has passed(and Caroline turned pale) I could bear anything rather than that youshould hereafter reproach me for selfish disregard of yourinterests, --your just ambition. "

"My noble friend! I do not say that I shall not feel a deep and sharppang at seeing you wed another; but I shall be consoled by the thoughtthat I have assisted to procure for you a station worthier of your meritsthan that which I can offer. Lord Doltimore is rich, --you will teach himto employ his riches well; he is weak, --your intellect will govern him;he is in love, --your beauty will suffice to preserve his regard. Ah, weshall be dear friends to the last!"

More--but to the same effect--did this able and crafty villain continueto address to Caroline, whom he alternately soothed, irritated, flattered, and revolted. Love him she certainly did, as far as love inher could extend; but perhaps his rank, his reputation, had served to winher affection; and; not knowing his embarrassments, she had encouraged aworldly hope that if Evelyn should reject his hand it might be offered toher. Under this impression she had trifled, she had coquetted, she hadplayed with the serpent till it had coiled around her; and she could notescape its fascination and its folds. She was sincere, --she could haveresigned much for Lord Vargrave; but his picture startled and appalledher. For difficulties in a palace she might be prepared; perhaps evenfor some privations in a _cottage ornee_, --but certainly not for penuryin a lodging-house! She listened by degrees with more attention toVargrave's description of the power and homage that would be hers if shecould secure Lord Doltimore; she listened, and was in part consoled. Butthe thought of Evelyn again crossed her; and perhaps with naturaljealousy was mingled some compunction at the fate to which Lord Vargravethus coldly appeared to condemn one so lovely and so innocent. 

"But do not, Vargrave, " she said, "do not be too sanguine; Evelyn mayreject you. She does not see you with my eyes; it is only a sense ofhonour that, as yet, forbids her openly to refuse the fulfilment of anengagement from which I know that she shrinks; and if she does refuse, and you be free, --and I another's--"

"Even in that case, " interrupted Vargrave, "I must turn to the GoldenIdol; my rank and name must buy me an heiress, if not so endowed asEvelyn, wealthy enough, at least, to take from my wheels the drag-chainof disreputable debt. But Evelyn--I will not doubt of her! her heart isstill unoccupied!"

"True; as yet her affections are not engaged. "

"And this Maltravers--she is romantic, I fancy--did he seem captivated byher beauty or her fortune?"

"No, indeed, I think not; he has been very little with us of late. Hetalked to her more as to a child, --there is a disparity of years. "

"I am many years older than Maltravers, " muttered Vargrave, moodily. 

"You--but your _manner_ is livelier, and, therefore, younger!"

"Fair flatterer! Maltravers does not love me: I fear his report of mycharacter--"

"I never heard him speak of you, Vargrave; and I will do Evelyn thejustice to say, that precisely as she does not love she esteems andrespects you. "

"Esteems! respects! these are the feelings for a prudent Hymen, " saidVargrave, with a smile. "But, hark! I don't hear the billiard-balls;they may find us here, --we had better separate. "

Lord Vargrave lounged into the billiard-room. The young men had justfinished playing, and were about to visit Thunderer, who had won therace, and was now the property of Lord Doltimore. 

Vargrave accompanied them to the stables; and after concealing hisignorance of horseflesh as well as he could, beneath a profusion ofcompliments on fore-hand, hind-quarters, breeding, bone, substance, andfamous points, he contrived to draw Doltimore into the courtyard, whileColonel Legard remained in converse high with the head groom. 

"Doltimore, I leave Knaresdean to-morrow; you go to London, I suppose?Will you take a little packet for me to the Home Office?"

"Certainly, when I go; but I think of staying a few days with Legard'suncle--the old admiral; he has a hunting-box in the neighbourhood, andhas asked us both over. "

"Oh, I can detect the attraction; but certainly it is a fair one, thehandsomest girl in the county; pity she has no money. "

"I don't care for money, " said Lord Doltimore, colouring, and settlinghis chin in his neckcloth; "but you are mistaken; I have no thoughts thatway. Miss Merton is a very fine girl, but I doubt much if she cares forme. I would never marry any woman who was not very much in love withme. " And Lord Doltimore laughed rather foolishly. 

"You are more modest than clear-sighted, " said Vargrave, smiling; "butmark my words, --I predict that the beauty of next season will be acertain Caroline Lady Doltimore. "

The conversation dropped. 

"I think that will be settled well, " said Vargrave to himself, as he wasdressing for dinner. "Caroline will manage Doltimore, and I shall manageone vote in the Lords and three in the Commons. I have already talkedhim into proper politics; a trifle all this, to be sure: but I hadnothing else to amuse me, and one must never lose an occasion. Besides, Doltimore is rich, and rich friends are always useful. I have Caroline, too, in my power, and she may be of service with respect to this Evelyn, who, instead of loving, I half hate: she has crossed my path, robbed meof wealth; and now, if she does refuse me--but no, I will not think of_that_!"

CHAPTER IX. 

 OUT of our reach the gods have laid Of time to come the event; And laugh to see the fools afraid Of what the knaves invent. --SEDLEY, _from Lycophron_. 

THE next day Caroline returned to the rectory in Lady Raby's carriage;and two hours after her arrival came Lord Vargrave. Mr. Merton hadsecured the principal persons in the neighbourhood to meet a guest sodistinguished, and Lord Vargrave, bent on shining in the eyes of Evelyn, charmed all with his affability and wit. Evelyn, he thought, seemed paleand dispirited. He pertinaciously devoted himself to her all theevening. Her ripening understanding was better able than heretofore toappreciate his abilities; yet, inwardly, she drew comparisons between hisconversation and that of Maltravers, not to the advantage of the former. There was much that amused but nothing that interested in Lord Vargrave'sfluent ease. When he attempted sentiment, the vein was hard and hollow;he was only at home on worldly topics. Caroline's spirits were, as usualin society, high, but her laugh seemed forced, and her eye absent. 

The next day, after breakfast, Lord Vargrave walked alone to Burleigh. As he crossed the copse that bordered the park, a large Persian greyhoundsprang towards him, barking loudly; and, lifting his eyes, he perceivedthe form of a man walking slowly along one of the paths that intersectedthe wood. He recognized Maltravers. They had not till then encounteredsince their meeting a few weeks before Florence's death; and a pang ofconscience came across the schemer's cold heart. Years rolled away fromthe past; he recalled the young, generous, ardent man, whom, ere thecharacter or career of either had been developed, he had called hisfriend. He remembered their wild adventures and gay follies, in climeswhere they had been all in all to each other; and the beardless boy, whose heart and purse were ever open to him, and to whose very errors ofyouth and inexperienced passion he, the elder and the wiser, had led andtempted, rose before him in contrast to the grave and melancholy air ofthe battled and solitary man, who now slowly approached him, --the manwhose proud career he had served to thwart, whose heart his schemes hadprematurely soured, whose best years had been consumed in exile, --asacrifice to the grave which a selfish and dishonourable villany hadprepared! Cesarini, the inmate of a mad-house, Florence in hershroud, --such were the visions the sight of Maltravers conjured up. Andto the soul which the unwonted and momentary remorse awakened, a bodingvoice whispered, "And thinkest thou that thy schemes shall prosper, andthy aspirations succeed?" For the first time in his life, perhaps, theunimaginative Vargrave felt the mystery of a presentiment of warning andof evil. 

The two men met, and with an emotion which seemed that of honest and realfeeling, Lumley silently held out his hand, and half turned away hishead. 

"Lord Vargrave!" said Maltravers, with an equal agitation, "it is longsince we have encountered. "

"Long, --very long, " answered Lumley, striving hard to regain hisself-possession; "years have changed us both; but I trust it has stillleft in you, as it has in me, the remembrance of our old friendship. "

Maltravers was silent, and Lord Vargrave continued, --

"You do not answer me, Maltravers. Can political differences, oppositepursuits, or the mere lapse of time, have sufficed to create anirrevocable gulf between us? Why may we not be friends again?"

"Friends!" echoed Maltravers; "at our age that word is not so lightlyspoken, that tie is not so unthinkingly formed, as when we were youngermen. "

"But may not the old tie be renewed?"

"Our ways in life are different; and were I to scan your motives andcareer with the scrutinizing eyes of friendship, it might only serve toseparate us yet more. I am sick of the great juggle of ambition, and Ihave no sympathy left for those who creep into the pint-bottle, orswallow the naked sword. "

"If you despise the exhibition, why, then, let us laugh at it together, for I am as cynical as yourself. "

"Ah, " said Maltravers with a smile, half mournful, half bitter, "but areyou not one of the Impostors?"

"Who ought better to judge of the Eleusiniana than one of the Initiated?But seriously, why on earth should political differences part privatefriendship? Thank Heaven! such has never been my maxim. "

"If the differences be the result of honest convictions on eitherside, --no; but are you honest, Lumley?"

"Faith, I have got into the habit of thinking so; and habit's a secondnature. However, I dare say we shall yet meet in the arena, so I mustnot betray my weak points. How is it, Maltravers, that they see solittle of you at the rectory? You are a great favourite there. Have youany living that Charley Merton could hold with his own? You shake yourhead. And what think you of Miss Cameron, my intended?"

"You speak lightly. Perhaps you--"

"Feel deeply, --you were going to say. I do. In the hand of my ward, Evelyn Cameron, I trust to obtain at once the domestic happiness to whichI have as yet been a stranger, and the wealth necessary to my career. "

Lord Vargrave continued, after a short pause, "Though my avocations haveseparated us so much, I have no doubt of her steady affection, --and, Imay add, of her sense of honour. She alone can repair to me what elsehad been injustice in my uncle. " He then proceeded to repeat the moralobligations which the late lord had imposed on Evelyn, --obligations thathe greatly magnified. Maltravers listened attentively, and said little. 

"And these obligations being fairly considered, " added Vargrave, with asmile, "I think, even had I rivals, that they could scarcely in honourattempt to break an existing engagement. "

"Not while the engagement lasted, " answered Maltravers; "not till one orthe other had declined to fulfil it, and therefore left both free: but Itrust it will be an alliance in which all but affection will beforgotten; that of honour alone would be but a harsh tie. "

"Assuredly, " said Vargrave; and, as if satisfied with what had passed, heturned the conversation, --praised Burleigh, spoke of county matters, resumed his habitual gayety, though it was somewhat subdued, andpromising to call again soon, he at last took his leave. 

Maltravers pursued his solitary rambles, and his commune with himself wasstern and searching. 

"And so, " thought he, "this prize is reserved for Vargrave! Why should Ideem him unworthy of the treasure? May he not be worthier, at allevents, than this soured temper and erring heart? And he is assured tooof her affection! Why this jealous pang? Why can the fountain withinnever be exhausted? Why, through so many scenes and sufferings, have Istill retained the vain madness of my youth, --the haunting susceptibilityto love? This is my latest folly. "