Alice, or the Mysteries — Complete
govern him; he is in love,--your beauty will suffice to preserve his
regard. Ah, we shall be dear friends to the last!"
More--but to the same effect--did this able and crafty villain continue
to address to Caroline, whom he alternately soothed, irritated,
flattered, and revolted. Love him she certainly did, as far as love in
her could extend; but perhaps his rank, his reputation, had served
to win her affection; and; not knowing his embarrassments, she had
encouraged a worldly hope that if Evelyn should reject his hand it
might be offered to her. Under this impression she had trifled, she had
coquetted, she had played with the serpent till it had coiled around
her; and she could not escape its fascination and its folds. She was
sincere,--she could have resigned much for Lord Vargrave; but his
picture startled and appalled her. For difficulties in a palace she
might be prepared; perhaps even for some privations in a _cottage
ornee_,--but certainly not for penury in a lodging-house! She listened
by degrees with more attention to Vargrave's description of the power
and homage that would be hers if she could secure Lord Doltimore; she
listened, and was in part consoled. But the thought of Evelyn again
crossed her; and perhaps with natural jealousy was mingled some
compunction at the fate to which Lord Vargrave thus coldly appeared to
condemn one so lovely and so innocent.
"But do not, Vargrave," she said, "do not be too sanguine; Evelyn may
reject you. She does not see you with my eyes; it is only a sense of
honour that, as yet, forbids her openly to refuse the fulfilment of an
engagement 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 Golden
Idol; my rank and name must buy me an heiress, if not so endowed as
Evelyn, wealthy enough, at least, to take from my wheels the drag-chain
of disreputable debt. But Evelyn--I will not doubt of her! her heart is
still unoccupied!"
"True; as yet her affections are not engaged."
"And this Maltravers--she is romantic, I fancy--did he seem captivated
by her beauty or her fortune?"
"No, indeed, I think not; he has been very little with us of late. He
talked 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 my
character--"
"I never heard him speak of you, Vargrave; and I will do Evelyn the
justice to say, that precisely as she does not love she esteems and
respects you."
"Esteems! respects! these are the feelings for a prudent Hymen," said
Vargrave, 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 just
finished playing, and were about to visit Thunderer, who had won the
race, and was now the property of Lord Doltimore.
Vargrave accompanied them to the stables; and after concealing his
ignorance of horseflesh as well as he could, beneath a profusion of
compliments on fore-hand, hind-quarters, breeding, bone, substance, and
famous points, he contrived to draw Doltimore into the courtyard, while
Colonel 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's
uncle--the old admiral; he has a hunting-box in the neighbourhood, and
has asked us both over."
"Oh, I can detect the attraction; but certainly it is a fair one, the
handsomest girl in the county; pity she has no money."
"I don't care for money," said Lord Doltimore, colouring, and settling
his chin in his neckcloth; "but you are mistaken; I have no thoughts
that way. Miss Merton is a very fine girl, but I doubt much if she cares
for me. I would never marry any woman who was not very much in love with
me." And Lord Doltimore laughed rather foolishly.
"You are more modest than clear-sighted," said Vargrave, smiling; "but
mark my words,--I predict that the beauty of next season will be a
certain Caroline Lady Doltimore."
The conversation dropped.
"I think that will be settled well," said Vargrave to himself, as he was
dressing for dinner. "Caroline will manage Doltimore, and I shall manage
one vote in the Lords and three in the Commons. I have already talked
him into proper politics; a trifle all this, to be sure: but I had
nothing 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 me
of 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 had
secured the principal persons in the neighbourhood to meet a guest so
distinguished, and Lord Vargrave, bent on shining in the eyes of Evelyn,
charmed all with his affability and wit. Evelyn, he thought, seemed
pale and dispirited. He pertinaciously devoted himself to her all the
evening. Her ripening understanding was better able than heretofore to
appreciate his abilities; yet, inwardly, she drew comparisons between
his conversation and that of Maltravers, not to the advantage of the
former. There was much that amused but nothing that interested in Lord
Vargrave's fluent ease. When he attempted sentiment, the vein was hard
and hollow; he was only at home on worldly topics. Caroline's spirits
were, as usual in 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
greyhound sprang towards him, barking loudly; and, lifting his eyes, he
perceived the form of a man walking slowly along one of the paths that
intersected the wood. He recognized Maltravers. They had not till then
encountered since their meeting a few weeks before Florence's death; and
a pang of conscience came across the schemer's cold heart. Years rolled
away from the past; he recalled the young, generous, ardent man, whom,
ere the character or career of either had been developed, he had called
his friend. He remembered their wild adventures and gay follies, in
climes where 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 of youth and inexperienced passion he, the elder and the wiser,
had led and tempted, rose before him in contrast to the grave and
melancholy air of the battled and solitary man, who now slowly
approached him,--the man whose proud career he had served to thwart,
whose heart his schemes had prematurely soured, whose best years had
been consumed in exile,--a sacrifice to the grave which a selfish and
dishonourable villany had prepared! Cesarini, the inmate of a mad-house,
Florence in her shroud,--such were the visions the sight of Maltravers
conjured up. And to the soul which the unwonted and momentary remorse
awakened, a boding voice whispered, "And thinkest thou that thy schemes
shall prosper, and thy aspirations succeed?" For the first time in
his life, perhaps, the unimaginative Vargrave felt the mystery of a
presentiment of warning and of evil.
The two men met, and with an emotion which seemed that of honest and
real feeling, Lumley silently held out his hand, and half turned away
his head.
"Lord Vargrave!" said Maltravers, with an equal agitation, "it is long
since we have encountered."
"Long,--very long," answered Lumley, striving hard to regain his
self-possession; "years have changed us both; but I trust it has still
left 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, opposite
pursuits, or the mere lapse of time, have sufficed to create an
irrevocable gulf between us? Why may we not be friends again?"
"Friends!" echoed Maltravers; "at our age that word is not so lightly
spoken, that tie is not so unthinkingly formed, as when we were younger
men."
"But may not the old tie be renewed?"
"Our ways in life are different; and were I to scan your motives and
career with the scrutinizing eyes of friendship, it might only serve to
separate us yet more. I am sick of the great juggle of ambition, and
I have no sympathy left for those who creep into the pint-bottle, or
swallow 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 are
you 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 private
friendship? Thank Heaven! such has never been my maxim."
"If the differences be the result of honest convictions on either
side,--no; but are you honest, Lumley?"
"Faith, I have got into the habit of thinking so; and habit's a second
nature. However, I dare say we shall yet meet in the arena, so I must
not betray my weak points. How is it, Maltravers, that they see so
little of you at the rectory? You are a great favourite there. Have you
any living that Charley Merton could hold with his own? You shake your
head. 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
which I have as yet been a stranger, and the wealth necessary to my
career."
Lord Vargrave continued, after a short pause, "Though my avocations have
separated us so much, I have no doubt of her steady affection,--and, I
may add, of her sense of honour. She alone can repair to me what else
had been injustice in my uncle." He then proceeded to repeat the moral
obligations which the late lord had imposed on Evelyn,--obligations that
he greatly magnified. Maltravers listened attentively, and said little.
"And these obligations being fairly considered," added Vargrave, with a
smile, "I think, even had I rivals, that they could scarcely in honour
attempt to break an existing engagement."
"Not while the engagement lasted," answered Maltravers; "not till one or
the other had declined to fulfil it, and therefore left both free: but
I trust it will be an alliance in which all but affection will be
forgotten; that of honour alone would be but a harsh tie."
"Assuredly," said Vargrave; and, as if satisfied with what had passed,
he turned the conversation,--praised Burleigh, spoke of county matters,
resumed his habitual gayety, though it was somewhat subdued, and
promising to call again soon, he at last took his leave.
Maltravers pursued his solitary rambles, and his commune with himself
was stern and searching.
"And so," thought he, "this prize is reserved for Vargrave! Why should
I deem him unworthy of the treasure? May he not be worthier, at all
events, than this soured temper and erring heart? And he is assured too
of her affection! Why this jealous pang? Why can the fountain within