CHAPTER VII,

: ** Contrahe vela, Et te littoribus cymba propinqua vehat.” 1—SENECA,
“HAS not Miss Cameron a beautiful countenance?” said Mr. Merton to Maltravers, as Evelyn, unconscious of the compliment, sat at a little distance, bending down her eyes to Sophy, who was weaving daisy-chains on a stool at her knee, and whom she was telling not to talk loud—for Merton had been giving Maltravers some useful information respecting the management of his estate; and Evelyn was already interested
_ in all that could interest her friend. She had one excellent thing
in woman, had Evelyn Cameron: despite her sunny cheerfulness of temper she was gwiet ; and she had insensibly acquired, under the roof of her musing and silent mother, the habit of never disturbing others. What a blessed secret is that in the inter- course of domestic life !
“ Has not Miss Cameron a beautiful countenance?”
Maltravers started at the question—it was a literal translation of his own thought at that moment—he checked the enthusiasm that rose to his lip, and calmly re-echoed the word—
“Beautiful indeed !”
“And so sweet-tempered and unaffected—she has been admirably brought up. I believe Lady Vargrave is a most exemplary woman. Miss Cameron will, indeed, be a treasure to her betrothed husband. He is to be envied.”
~ 1 Furl your sails, and let the next beat carry you to the shore. =
“Her Poecoued: husband!” ‘said Molaevers ne very ; pale. mee . “Yes; Lord Vargrave. Did you not know that she was — engaged to him from her childhood? It was the wish, nay, command, of the late lord, who bequeathed her his vast fortune, _ if not on that condition, at least, on that understanding, Did you never hear of this before ?” ; ; While Mr. Merton spoke, a sudden recollection returned to _ _ Maltravers. He ad heard Lumley himself refer to the engage- — ment, but it had been in the sick chamber of Florence—little heeded at the time, and swept from his mind by a thousand — -after-thoughts and scenes. Mr. Merton continued— “We expect Lord Vargrave down soon. He is an ardent — lover, I conclude ; but public life chains him so much to London, He made an ae mirable speech in the Lords last night; at least, — our party appear to think so. They are to be married when Miss Camieron attains the age of eighteen.” = _Accustomed to endurance, and skilled in the proud art of con- _
cealing emotion, Maltravers betrayed to the eye of Mr. Merton no symptom of surprise or dismay at this intelligence. If the
rector had conceived any previous suspicion that Maltravers was | touched beyond mere admiration for beauty, the suspicion would have vanished as he heard his guest coldly reply—
“T trust Lord Vargrave may deserve his happiness. But, to return to Mr. Justis—you corroborate my own opinion of that smooth-spoken gentleman.”
The conversation flowed back to business. At last, Maltravers rose to depart.
“Will you not dine with us to-day?” said the hospitable rector.
“Many thanks—no; I-have much business to attend to at home for some days to come.”
“ Kiss Sophy, Mr. Ernest—Sophy very good girl to-day. Let the pretty butterfly go, because Evy said it was cruel to put it in
) _ a card-box—kiss Sophy.”
Maltravers took the child (whose heart he had completely. _ won) in his arms, and kissed her tenderly; then, advancing to _ Evelyn, he held out his hand, while his eyes were fixed upon her
_ with an expression of deep and mournful interest, which she ~ could not understand. ;
_ “God bless you, Miss Cameron,” he said, and his lip quivered. Days passed, and they saw no more of Maltravers. He
excused himself on pretence, now of. business—now of other —
engagements —- from all the invitations of the rector. Mr,
Merton, unsuspectingly, accepted the excuse; for he knew that _
Maltravers was necessarily much occupied.
His arrival had now spread throughout the country ; and such of his equals as were still in B gratulations, and press hospitality. Perhaps it was the desire to make his excuses to Merton valid, which prompted the master of Burleigh to yield to the other invitations that crowded on him. But this was not all—Maltravers acquired in the neighbourhood the reputation of a manof business. Mr. Justis was abruptly dis- missed ; with the help of the bailiff Maltravers became his own steward. His parting address to this personage was characteristic of the mingled harshness and justice of Maltravers.
“Sir,” said he, as they closed their accounts, “I discharge you because you are a rascal—there can be no dispute about that: you have plundered your owner, yet you have ground his
——
shire hastened to offer con-
tenants, and neglected the poor. My villages are filled with-
paupers—my rent-roll is reduced a fourth—and yet, while some of my tenants appear to pay nominal rents (why, you best know), others are screwed up higher than any man’s in the country. You
are a rogue, Mr. Justis—your own account-books show it: and if I send them to a lawyer, y.u would have to refund a sum that I _
could apply very advantageously to the rectification of your blunders,”
“I hope, sir” said the steward, conscience-striken and appalled,—“I hope you will not ruin me; indeed,—indeed, if I was called upon to refund, I should go to goal.”
“Make yourself easy, sir. It is just that I should suffer as
well as you. My neglect of my own duties tempted you to roguery. You were honest under the viligant eye of Mr. Cleve- land. Retire with your gains: if you are quite hardened, no punishment can touch you; if you are not, it is punishment
enough to stand there grey-headed, with one foot in the grave,
and hear yourself called a rogue, and know that you cannot defend yourself—go!” ° : ‘
—he made new arrangements with others—he called labour into
requisition by a variety of improvements—he paid minute at-_
tention to the poor, not in the weakness of careless and indis-
_ criminate charity, by which popularity is so cheaply purchased, Be
and independence so easily degraded ; no, his main care was to
~ that he so vainly denied in himself, he found his most useful levers - in the humble labourers whose characters he had studied, whose
_ The abuses of the old Poor-Laws were rife in his neighbourhood ; cision, suggested to him many of the best provisions of the law
_sopher Square of a system. He did not attempt too much; and he recognized one principle, which, as yet, the administrators of the new Poor-Laws have not sufficiently discovered. One main object of the new code was, by curbing public charity, to task j the activity of individual benevolence. If the proprietor or the ; clergyman find under his own eye isolated instances_ of severity, __ oppression, or hardship, in a general and salutary law, instead of 3 railing against the law, he ought to attend to the individual 3 A i
instances; and private benevolence ought to keep the balance of the scales even, and be the makeweight wherever there is a just = deficiency of national charity.1_ It was this which, in the modi- fied and discreet regulations that he sought to establish on his estates, Maltravers especially and pointedly attended to. Age. infirmity, temporary distress, unmerited destitution, found him a steady, watchful, indefatigable friend. In these labours, com- - menced with extraordinary promptitude, and the energy of a
1 The object of parochial reform is not that of economy alone ; not merely to reduce poor-rates. The ratepayer ought to remember that the more he wrests from.the gripe of the sturdy mendicant, the more he ought to bestow on undeserved distress. Without the mitigations of private virtue, every law that benevolists could make would be harsh, E :
Maltravers next occupied himself in all the affairs that a mis- — _ managed estate brought upon him. He got rid of some tenants
_ stimulate industry and raise hope. The ambition and emulation. : condition he sought to make themselves desire to elevate. Unconsciously his whole practice began to refute his theories, — his quick penetration, and perhaps, his imperious habits of de- BS
now called into operation ; but he was too wise to be the Philo- :
ae
—— eee
_ single purpose and stern mind, Maltravers was necessatily
brought into contact with the neighbouring magistrates and gentry. He was combating evils and advancing objects in which all were interested; and his vigorous sense, and his past parlia- mentary reputation, joined with the respect which in provinces always attaches to ancient birth, won unexpected and general favour to his views. At the rectory they heard of him con- stantly, not only through occasional visitors, but through Mr. Merton, who was ever thrown in his way; but he continued to keep himself aloof from the house. Every one (Mr. Merton ex- cepted) missed him; even Caroline, whose able though worldly mind could appreciate his conversation; the children mourned for their playmate, who was so much more affable than their own
_ stiff-neckclothed brothers: and Evelyn was at least more serious
and thoughtful than she had ever been before; and the talk of others seemed to her wearisome, trite, and dull.
Was Maltravers happy in his new pursuits? His state of mind at that time it is not easy to read. His masculine spirit and haughty temper were wrestling hard against a feeling that had been fast ripening into passion: but at night, in his solitary and cheerless home, a vision, too exquisite to indulge, would force itself upon him, till he started from the reverie, and said to his rebellious heart, “A few more years, and thou wilt be still. What in this brief life isa pang more or less? Better to have nothing to care for, so wilt thou defraud Fate, thy deceitful foe! Be contented that thou art alone!”
Fortunate was it, then, for Maltravers, that he was in his native land ; not in climes where excitement is in the pursuit of pleasure rather than in the exercise of duties. In the hardy air of the liberal England, he was already, though unknown to himself, bracing and ennobling his dispositions and desires. It is the boast of this island that the slave whose foot touches the soil is free. The boast may be enlarged. Where so much is left to the people—where the life of civilisation, not locked up in the tyranny of Central Despotism, spreads, vivifying, restless, ardent, through every vein of the healthful body, the most distant province, the obscurest village, has claims on our exertions, our duties, and forces us into energy and citizenship. The spirit: of ;
ts of Virtue, of Wisdom, and of Genius—by Him who bade love one another—not only that love in itself is excellent, bu at from love, which in its widest sense is but. the spiritual term
liberty, whatever is worthiest of our solemn nature has i irth.