CHAPTER II.

“ Quibus otio vel magnificé, vel molliter, vivere copia erat, incerta pro certis talebant,’ "1_SALLUST.
“Lorp RABY—one of the wealthiest and most splendid nobles men in England—was prouder, perhaps, of his provincial distinc- tions than the eminence of his rank or the fashion of his wife. The
-1 They who had the means to live at ease, either in splendour or in lux preferred the uncertainty of change, to their natural security. : ne
hi ty
magnificent chateaux—the immense estates of our English peers
_ —tend to preserve to us in spite of the freedom, bustle, and com-
mercial grandeur of our people, more of the Nornfan attributes of
aristocracy than can be found in other countries. In his county,
a A f " * ie
the great noble is a petty prince—his house is a court—his
possessions and munificence are a boast to every proprietor in his district. They are as fond of talking of the earl’s or the duke’s movements and entertainments, as Dangeau was of the
gossip of the Tuileries and Versailles,
Lord Raby, while affecting, as lieutenant of the county, to make no political distinctions between squire and squire—
| hospitable and affable to all—still, by that very absence of
exclusiveness, gave a tone to the politics of the whole county ; and converted many who had once thought differently on the respective virtues of Whigs and Tories. A great man never loses so much as when he exhibits intolerance, or parades the right of persecution.
“My tenants shall vote exactly as they please,’ said Lord Raby ; and he was never known to have a tenant vote against his wishes! Keeping a vigilant eye on all the interests, and conciliating all the proprietors, in the county, he not only never lost a friend, but he kept together a body of partisans that constantly added to its numbers.
Sir John Merton’s colleague, a young Lord Nelthorpe, who
could not speak three sentences if you took away his hat: and —
who, constant at Almacks’, was not only inaudible but invisible in parliament, had no chance of being re-elected. Lord Nel- thorpe’s father, the Earl of Mainwaring, was a new peer; and,
next to Lord Raby, the richest nobleman in the county. Now, ,
though they were much of the same politics, Lord Raby hated
Lord Mainwaring. They were too near each other—they
clashed—they had the jealousy of rival princes!
Lord Raby was delighted at the notion of getting rid of Lord Nelthorpe—it would be so sensible a blow to the Mainwaring interest. The party had been looking out for a new candidate, and Maltravers had been much talked of. It is true that, when in parliament some years before, the politics of Maltravers had differed from those of Lord Raby and his set. But Maltravers
1A ¥ ;
Ter eR pt a
had of late taken no share in politics—had uttered n» political opinions—was intimate with the electioneering Mertons—was supposed to bt a discontented man—-and politicians believe in no discontent that is not political. Whispers were afloat that Maltravers had grown wise, and changed his views: some remarks of his, more theoretical than practical, *were quoted in
favour of this notion. Parties, too, had much changed since 3
Maltravers had appeared on the busy scene—new questions had arisen, and the old ones had died off.
- Lord Raby and his party thought that, if Maltravers could — be secured to them, no one would better suit their purpose. —
Political faction loves converts better even than consistent adherents. A man’s rise in life generally dates from a well-
timed vat, His high reputation—his provincial rank as the —
representative of the oldest commoner’s family in the county— his age, which combined the energy of one period with the experience of another—all united to accord Maltravers a prefer-
ence over richer men. Lord Raby had been pointedly courteous —
and flattering to the master of Burleigh; and he now contrived it so, that the brilliant entertainment he was about to give might
appear in compliment to a distinguished neighbour, returned to —
fix his residence on his patrimonial property, while in reality it might serve an electioneering purpose—servesto introduce Maltravers to the county, as if under his lordship’s own wing— and minister to political uses that went beyond the mere representation of the county.
Lord Vargrave had, during his stay at Merton Rectory, paid several visits to Knaresdean, and held many private conversa- tions with the marquess: the result of these conversations was a close union of schemes and interests between the two noblemen. Dissatisfied with the political conduct of government, Lord Raby
as also dissatisfied that, from various party reasons, a noble-
ee a 4
man beneath himself in rank, and as he thought in influence, - had obtained a preference in a recent vacancy among the Knights —
of the Garter. And if Vargrave had a talent in the world it was in discovering the weak points of men whom he sought to gain, and making the vanities of others conduce to his own ambition.
The festivities of Knaresdean gave occasion to Lord Raby to
acted in concert with Lord Vargrave; and in this secret senate
unite at his house the more prominent of those who thought and
the operations for the following session were to be seriously discussed and gravely determined.
On the day which was to be concluded with the ball at
Knaresdean, Lord Vargrave went before the rest of the Merton party, for he was engaged to dine with the marquess.
On arriving at Knaresdean, Lumley found Lord Saxingham
and some other politicians, who had arrived the preceding day, closeted with Lord Raby; and Vargrave, who shone to yet greater advantage in the diplomacy of party management than in the arena of parliament brought penetration; energy, and
decision to timid and fluctuating counsels. Lord Vargrave lingered in the room after the first bell had summoned the other ~
guests to depart.
“ My dear lord,” said he then, “though no one would be more © glad than myself to secure Maltravers to our side, I very much ©
doubt whether you will succeed in doing so. On the one hand, he appears altogether disgusted with politics and parliament ;
and, on the other hand, I fancy that reports of his change of
opinions are, if not wholly unfounded, very unduly coloured, Moreover, to do him justice, I think that he is not one to be
blinded and flattered into the pale of a party ; and your bird will
fly away after you have wasted a bucketful of salt on his tail.” “Very possibly,” said Lord Raby, laughing ; “you know him
better than I do. But there are many purposes to serve in this matter—purposes too provincial to interest you. In the first place, we shall humble the Nelthorpe interest, merely by showing that we do think of a new member ; secondly, we shall get up a manifestation of feeling that would be impossible, unless we were provided with a centre of attraction; thirdly, we shall -rouse a certain emulation among other county gentlemen ; and if Maltravers decline, we shall have many applicants: and fourthly, suppose Maltravers has not changed his opinions, we shall make him suspected by the party he really does belong
to, and which would be somewhat formidable if he were to head them, In fact, these are mere county tactics, that you can’t be expected to understand.” N
ay 6 ALICE; OR, THE MY | ee
“T see you are quite right: meanwhile you will at least have an opportunity (though I say it, who should not say it) to present to the county one of the prettiest young ladies that ever _ graced the halls of Knaresdean.” _ “Ah, Miss Cameron! I have heard much of her beauty: you are a lucky fellow, Vargrave!—by the by, are we to say anything of the engagement?”
“Why, indeed, my dear lord, it is now so publicly known, that it would be false delicacy to affect concealment,”
“Very well; I understand.”
“How long I have detained you—a thousand: pardons !— I have but just time to dress. In four or five months
I must remember to leave you a longer time for your toilet.” :
“Me—how ?”
“Oh, the Duke of can’t live long; and I always observe that when a handsome man has the Garter, he takes a long time pulling up his stockings,”
“Ha, ha! you are so droll, Vargrave.”
“ Ha, ha !—I must be off.”
“The more publicity is given to this arrangement, the more difficult for Evelyn to shy at the leap,” muttered Vargrave to himself as he closed the door. “Thus do I make all things useful to myself!”
The dinner party were assembled in the great drawing-room, when Maltravers and Cleveland, also invited guests to the banquet, were announced. Lord Raby received the former with
_marked empressement; and the stately marchioness honoured him with her most gracious smile. Formal presentations to the rest of the guests were interchanged; and it was not till the circle was fully gone through that Maltravers perceived, seated by himself in a corner, to which he had shrunk on the entrance of Maltravers, a grey-haired solitary man—it was Lord Saxing- ham! The last time they had met was in the death-chamber of Florence ; and the old man forgot, for the moment, the anticipated dukedom, and the dreamed-of premiership !—and his heart flew back to the grave of his only child! They saluted each other —and shook hands in silence. And Vargrave-—whose eye was
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on them—Vargrave, whose arts had mage that old man child- less, felt not a pang of remorse! Living ever in the future, Vargrave almost seemed to have lost his memory. He knew — not what regret was. It is a condition of life with men | thoroughly worldly that they never look behind ! a The signal was given: in due order the party were marshalled — into the great hall—a spacious and lofty chamber, which had ~ received its last alteration from the hand of Inigo Jones ; though i _ the massive ceiling, with its antique and grotesque masques, Z : ‘betrayed a much earlier date, and contrasted with the Corinthian _-__ pilasters that adorned the walls, and supported the music-gallery — —from which waved the flags of modern warfare and its mimicries. _ The Eagle of Napoleon, a token of the services of Lord Raby’s brother (a distinguished cavalry officer in command at Waterloo), — in juxtaposition with a much gayer and more glittering banner, emblematic of the martial fame of Lord Raby himself, as Colonel ; of the B——shire volunteers! : . The music pealed from the gallery—the plate glittered on the board—the ladies wore diamonds, and the gentlemen, who had © them, wore stars. It was a very fine sight, that banquet !—such as became the festive day of a lord-lieutenant whose ancestors had now defied, and now intermarried, with royalty. But there was very little talk, and no merriment, People at the top of the table drank wine with those at the bottom; and gentlemen and ladies seated next to each other whispered languidly in mono- syllabic commune. On one side, Maltravers was flanked by a Lady Somebody Something, who was rather deaf, and very © 4 ‘much frightened for fear he should talk Greek; on the other — : side he was relieved by Sir John Merton—very civil, very pompous, and talking, at strictured intervals, about county matters, in a measured intonation, savouring of the House-of-. Commons jerk at the end of the sentence. As the dinner advanced to its close, Sir John became a little 3 more diffuse, though his voice sank into a whisper. “J fear there will be a split in the cabinet before parliament meets.” ; “Indeed !” “Yes; Vargrave and the premier cannot pull together very : N 2
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ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES,
long. Clever man, Vasgrave! but he has not enough stakein
the country for a leader !” ae “All men have public character to stake; and if that be good, I suppose no stake can be better?” a “Humph !—yes—very true; but still, when a man has land and money, his opinions, in a country like this, very properly catry more weight with them. If Vargrave, for instance, had _ Lord Raby’s property, no man could be more fit for a leader—a _ prime minister. We might then be sure that he would have no selfish interest to further: he would not play tricks with his party—you understand ?”
“Perfectly.”
“Tam not a party man, as you may remember; indeed, you _ and I have voted alike on the same questions. Measures, not _ men—that is my maxim ; but still I don’t like to see men placed _ above their proper stations.” “Maltravers—a glass of wine,” said Lord Vargrave across the _ table. “Will you join us, Sir John?” : Sir John bowed. “ Certainly,” he resumed, “ Vargrave is a pleasant man anda _ geod speaker ; but still they say he is far from rich—embarrassed, indeed. However, when he marries Miss Cameron it may make a great difference—give him more respectability ; do you know what her fortune is—something immense ?” “Yes ; I believe so—I don’t know.” ‘““My brother says that Vargrave is most amiable. The young lady is very handsome, almost too handsome for a wife—don’t you think so? Beauties are all very well in a ballroom; but they are not calculated for domestic life. I am sure you agree with me. I have heard, indeed, that Miss Cameron is rather learned; but there is so much scandal in-a country neighbour. hood ;—people are so ill-natured. I dare say she is not more _ learned than other young ladies, poor girl! What do you - think ?”
“Miss Cameron is—is very accomplished, I believe. And so you think the government cannot stand ?”
“I don’t say that—very far from it ; but I fear there must be a change. However if the country gentlemen hold together, I
: . a, eae ive PN ee aM KT RO SS eee ee er es bt sien S* let
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do mot eoubt Dat what we shall mentee the storm. The landae
interest Mr. Maltravers is the great stay of this country—the
_ sheet-anchor I may say. I suppose Lord Vargrave, who seems,
I must say, to have right notions on this head, will invest Miss Cameron’s fortune in land. But though one may buy an estate, one can’t buy an old family, Mr. Maltravers !—you and I may be | thankful for that. By the way, who was Miss Cameron’s mother, Lady Vargrave ?—something low, I fear—nobody knows.”
“Iam not acquainted with Lady Vargrave; your sister-in-law speaks of her most highly. And the dgasheer in herself isa — sufficient guarantee for the virtues of the mother.” :
“Yes ; and Vargrave on one side, at least, has himself nothing in the way of family to boast of.”
The ladies left the hall—the gentlemen re-seated themselves. Lord Raby made some remark on politics to Sir John Merton, and the whole round of talkers immediately followed their leader.
“Tt is a thousand pities, Sir John,” said Lord Raby, “that you have not a colleague more worthy of you; Nelthorpe never attends a committee, does he?”
“T cannot say that he is a very active member; but he is young, and we must make allowances for him,” said Sir John, — discreetly ; for he had no desire to oust his colleague—it was — agreeable enough to be ¢he efficient member.
“Tn these times,” said Lord Raby, loftily “allowances are not to be made for systematic neglect of duty ; we shall have a stormy session—the Opposition is no longer to be despised—
_ perhaps a dissolution may be nearer at hand than we think for:
—as for Nelthorpe, he cannot come in again.”
“That I am quite sure of,” said a fat country gentleman of great weight in the county; “he not only was absent on the great Malt question, but he never answered my letter respecting the Canal Company.”
“Not answered your letter!” said Lord Raby, lifting up his hands and eyes in amaze and horror. “What conduct !—Ah, Mr. Maltravers, you are the man for us!”
“ Hear! hear!” cried the fat squire.
“Hear!” echoed Vargrave; and the approving sound went sound the table.
ae
198 ss ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES.
Lord Raby rose.—
“Gentlemen, fill your glasses ;—a dealt to
our distinguished neighbour !” The company applauded ; each in his turn smiled, nodded, and
~ drank to Maltravers,
who, though taken by surprise, saw at once
the course to pursue. He returned thanks simply and shortly ; and, without pointedly noticing the allusion in which Lord Raby had indulged, remarked, incidentally, that he had retired, certainly for some years—perhaps for ever—from political life.
Vargrave smiled significantly at Lord Raby, and hastened to ‘lead the conversation into party discussion. Wrapped in his proud disdain of what he considered the contests of factions for toys and shadows, Maltravers remained silent ; and the party soon broke up, and adjourned to the ball-room,
- CHAPTER III.
“Le plus grand défaut de la pénétration n’est pas de n’aller point jusqu’au but— c’est de le passer.” 1—LA ROCHEFOUCAULD,
es
EVELYN had looked forward to the ball at Knaresdean with.
feelings deeper than
those which usually inflame the fancy of a
girl proud of her dress and confident of her beauty. Whether or not she /oved Maltravers, in the true acceptation of the word Jove, it is certain that he had acquired a most powerful command over her mind and imagination. She felt the warmest interest in his welfare—the most anxious desire for his esteem—the deepest regret at the thought of their estrangement. At Knares- dean she should meet Maltravers—in crowds, it is true—but still she should meet him; she should see him towering superior above the herd ; she should hear him praised ; she should mark him, the observed of all. But there was another and a deeper source of joy within her. A letter had been that morning received from Aubrey, in which he had announced his arrival
for the next day.
1 The greatest defect of t is the passing it.
The letter, though affectionate, was short. —
penetration is not that of not going just up to the point—
$0 SEM ae!
en ee Ne aT
7 Evelyn had
been some months absent—Lady Vargrave anxious to make arrangements for her return; but it was to be
at her option whether she would accompany the curate home.
Now, besides her delight at seeing once more the dear old man,
and hearing from his lips that her mother was well and happy, — Evelyn hailed in his arrival the means of extricating herself
from her position with Lord Vargrave. She would confide in
him her increased repugnance to that union—he would confer -
with Lord Vargrave ; and then—and then—did there come once more the thought of Maltravers? No! I fear it was not Mal- travers who called forth that smile and that sigh! Strange girl, you know not your own mind !—but few of us, at your age, do!
In all the gaiety of hope, in the pride of dress and half-
conscious loveliness, Evelyn went with a light step into Caroline’s room. Miss Merton had already dismissed her woman, and
was seated by her writing-table, leaning her cheek thoughtfully —
on her hand.
“Ts it time to go?” said she, looking up. “ Well—we shall ©
put papa, and the coachman, and the horses, too, in excellent humour. How well you look! Really, Evelyn, you are indeed beautiful !”—and Caroline gazed with honest but not unenvious admiration at the fairy form so rounded, and yet so delicate; and the face that seemed to blush at its own charms.
“T am sure I can return the flattery,” said Evelyn, laughing bashfully.
“Oh! as for me, I am well enough in my way: and hereafter, I dare say, we may be rival beauties. I hope we shall remain good friends, and rule the world with divided empire. Do you not long for the stir, and excitement, and ambition of London ? —for ambition is open to us as to men!”
“No, indeed,” replied Evelyn, smiling; “I could be ambitious, indeed ; but it would not be for myself, but for. ”
“A husband, perhaps; well, you will have ample scope for such sympathy. Lord Vargrave 2
“Lord Vargrave again?” and Evelyn’s smile vanished, and she turned away.
“ Ah,” said Caroline, “I should have made Vargrave an excel- Jent wife—pity he does not think so! As it is, I must set up
i]
Was —
- for myself and become a mattresse femme—So you think I look —
yell to-night? I am glad of it—Lord Doltimore is one who _ will be guided by what other people say.” > “You are not serious about Lord Doltimore ?” “Most sadly serious.” “Impossible! you could not speak so if you loved him.” “Loved him! no! but I intend to marry him,” Evelyn was revolted, but still incredulous, “And you, too, will marry one whom you do not love—'tis = our fate——” i “ Never !” “We shall see.”
Evelyn’s heart was damped, and her spirits fell.
“Tell me now,” said Caroline, pressing on the wrung withers —
—“do you not think this excitement, partial and provinciat though it be—the sense of beauty, the hope of conquest, the consciousness of power—better than the dull monotony of the Devonshire cottage? Be honest
“No, no, indeed!” answered Evelyn, tearfully and passion- ately ; “one hour with my mother, one smile from her lips, were worth it all.”
“And in your visions of marriage, you think then of nothin but roses and doves,—love in a cottage !”
“Love 7z a home, no matter whether a palace or a cottage,” returned Evelyn.
“Home!” repeated Caroline, bitterly ; “home—home is the English synonym for the French exzué, But I hear papa on the Stairs,”
A ballroom—what a scene of common-place! how hackneyed in novels ; how trite in ordinary life; and yet ballrooms have a character nae a sentiment of their own, for all tempers and all ages. Something in the lights—the crowd—the music— conduces to stir up many of the thoughts that belong to fancy and romance It is a melancholy scene to men after a certain age. It revives many of those lighter and more gracetul images connected with the wandering desires of youth ; shadows that crossed us, and seemed love, but were not ; having much of the
grace and charm, but none of the passion and the tragedy, of
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love. So many of our earliest and gentlest recollections are connected with those chalked floors—and that music painfully
_ gay—and those quiet’nooks and corners, where the talk that
hovers about the heart and does not touch it has been held. Apart and unsympathising in that austerer wisdom which comes
_ to us after deep passions have been excited, we see form after
= %
forcibly of the loss of youth! We are brought so closely in
7)
form chasing the butterflies that dazzle us no longer among the flowers that have evermore lost their fragrance. Somehow or other, it is one of the scenes that remind us most
_ contact with the young and with the short-lived pleasures that
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once pleased us, and have forfeited all bloom. Happy the man _who turns from “the tinkling cymbal,” and “the gallery of —
g pictures,” and can think of some watchful eye and some kind heart at home. But those who have no home—and they area
numerous tribe—never feel lonelier hermits or sadder moralists
- than in such a crowd.
Maltravers leaned abstractedly against the wall, and some such reflections, perhaps, passed within, as the plumes waved
and the diamonds glittered around him. Ever too proud to
be vain, the monstrari digito had not flattered even in the commencement of his career. And now he heeded not the eyes that sought his look, nor the admiring murmur of lips anxious to be overheard. Affluent, well-born, unmarried, and still in the prime of life,—in the small circles of a province, Ernest Maltravers would in himself have been an object of interest to the diplomacy of mothers and daughters; and the false glare of reputation necessarily deepened curiosity, and widened the range of speculators and observers.
Suddenly, however, a new object of attention excited new interest—new whispers ran through the crowd, and these awakened Maltravers from his reverie. He looked up, and beheld all eyes fixed upon one form! His own eyes encoun- tered those of Evelyn Cameron!
It was the first time he had seen this beautiful young person in all the &/az, pomp, and circumstance of her station, as the heiress of the opulent Templeton—the first time he had seen her the cynosure of crowds—who, had her features been homely,
“22 | ~—«CACLLAC'; OR, THE MYSTERI
would have admired the charms of her fortune in her face. And —
now, as radiant with youth, and the flush of excitement on her soft cheek, she met his eye, he said to himself—“ And could I have wished one so new to the world to have united her lot with aman for whom all that to her is delight has grown wearisome and stale? Could I have been justified in stealing her from the admiration that, at her age, and to her sex, has so sweet a flattery? Or, on the other hand, could I have gone back to her years, and sympathised with feelings that time has taught me to despise? Better as it is.”
Influenced by these thoughts, the greeting of Maltravers
disappointed and saddened Evelyn, she knew not why ; it was constrained and grave.
“Does not Miss Cameron look well?” whispered Mrs. Merton, on whose arm the heiress leant. “You observe what a sensation she creates?”
Evelyn overheard, and blushed as she stole a glance at Maltravers. There was something mournful in the admiration which spoke in his deep earnest eyes.
“Everywhere,” said he, calmly, and in the same tone,
“everywhere Miss Cameron appears, she must outshine all
others.” He turned to Evelyn, and said with a smile, “You must learn to inure yourself to admiration—a year or two hence, and you will not blush at your own gifts!”
“And you, too, contribute to spoil me !—fie!”
“Are you so easily spoiled? If I meet you hereafter, you will think my compliments cold to the common language of others.” |
“You do not know me—perhaps you never will.”
“I am contented with the fair pages I have already read.”
“Where is Lady Raby?” asked Mrs. Merton. “Oh, I see: Evelyn, my love, we must present ourselves to our hostess,”
The ladies moved on—and when Maltravers next caught a glance of Evelyn, she was with Lady Raby, and Lord Vargrave also was by her side.
The whispers round him had grown louder.
“Very lovely indeed—so young, too! and she is really going
E
; quite a Pacrince! 1”
_ “Scarcely so. He is so agreeable, and still handsome. But are you sure that the thing is settled ?”
“O, yes. Lord Raby himself told me so. It will take place 2
very soon.”. ~ “But do you know who er: mother was ?—I cannot a aa out.”
“Nothing particular. You know the late Lord Vargrave was
ba man of low birth. I believe she was a widow of his own rank _—she lives quite in seclusion.” “ How d’ye do, Mr. Maltravers? So glad to see you,” said the _ quick, shrill voice of Mrs. Hare. “ Beautiful ball—nobody does things like Lord Raby—don’t you dance 2?”
“No, madam.”
laying stress on the word young, thought she had paid a very elegant compliment, and ran on with increased complacency.) “You are going to let Burleigh, I hear, to Lord Doltimore—is it true ?—No !—really now, what stories people do tell. Elegant man, Lord Doltimore! Is it true, that Miss Caroline is going to marry his lordship ?—Great match !—No scandal, I hope; you'll excuse me /—Two weddings on the tapis—quite stirring for our 4 stupid county. Lady Vargrave and Lady Doltimore, two new _ peeresses. Which do you think is the handsomer? Miss Merton
Ty
ee Oe a Te ee
is the taller, but there is something fierce in her eyes. Don’t |
3 you think so? By the by, I wish you joy—you'll excuse me.” “ Wish me joy, madam!”
“Oh, you are so close. Mr. Hare says he shall support you ~ 4
- You will have all the ladies with you. Well, I declare, Lord Vargrave is going to dance. How old is he, do you think ?”
Maltravers uttered an audible pshaw, and moved away; but his penance was not over. Lord Vargrave, much as he disliked dancing, still thought it wise to ask the fair hand of Evelyn; and ' Evelyn, also, could not refuse.
And now, as the crowd gathered round the red _ ropes, Maltravers had to undergo new exclamations at Evelyn’s beauty and Vargrave’s luck. Impatiently he turned from the
bd ‘
“Oh, you young gentlemen are so fixe nowadays,” (Mrs. Hare -
204
spot, with that gnawing sickness of the heart which none but the -
jealous know. He longed to depart, yet dreaded to do so. It was the last time he should see Evelyn, perhaps for years—the last time he should see her as Miss Cameron !
He passed into another room, deserted by all save four old
gentlemen—Cleveland one of them—immersed in whist; and ; threw himself upon an ottoman, placed in a recess by the oriel —
window. There, half concealed by the draperies, he communed
and reasoned with himself. His heart was sad within him; he —
never felt before ow deeply and how passionately he loved —
Evelyn—how firmly that love had fastened upon the very core
of his heart! Strange, indeed, it was in a girl so young—of ©
whom he had seen but little—and that little in positions of such
But all love is unaccountable. The solitude in which Maltravers
- quiet and ordinary interest—to excite a passion so intense in a _ man who had gone through strong emotions and stern trials! —
had lived—the absence of all other excitement—perhaps had —
contributed largely to fan the flame. And his affections had so
long slept and after long sleep the passions wake with such giant strength! He felt now too well that the last rose of life had
bloomed for him—it was blighted in its birth, but it could never —
be replaced. Henceforth, indeed, he should be alone—the hopes
of home were gone for ever; and the other occupations of mind ~
and soul—literature, pleasure, ambition—were already forsworn at the very age in which by most men they are most indulged!
O Youth! begin not thy career too soon, and let one passion succeed in its due order to another ; so that every season of life may have its appropriate pursuit and charm !
The hours waned—still Maltravers stirred not; nor were his
meditations disturbed, except by occasional ejaculations from the four old gentlemen, as between each deal they moralized over the caprices of the cards.
At length, close beside him he heard that voice, the lightest sound of which could send the blood rushing through his veins; and from his retreat he saw Caroline and _ Evelyn, seated close by.
“T beg pardon,” said the former, in a low voice—*I beg
A
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pardon, Evelyn, for calling you away—but I longed to tell you —
The die is cast—Lord Doltiaere has proposed, and I jpg accepted him !—Alas, alas! I half wish I could retract!” “Dearest Caroline!” said the silver voice of Evelyn: “for ~ Heaven’s sake, do. not thus wantonly resolve on your own ‘ unhappiness! You wrong yourself, Caroline !—you do, indeed ! - You are not the vain ambitious character you affect to be! - Ah! what is it you require—wealth ?—are you not my friend }— -am I not rich enough for both ?—rank ?—what can it give you to compensate for the misery of a union without love? Pray, _ forgive me for speaking thus. Do not think me presumptuous, _ or romantic—but, indeed, indeed, I know from By own heart _ what yours must undergo!” __ Caroline pressed her friend’s hand with emotion. You area bad comforter, Evelyn ;—my mother—my father _ will preach a very different doctrine. I am foolish, indeed, to be j so sad in obtaining the very object I have sought!—Poor Dolti- ~ more!—he little knows the nature, the feelings of her whom he § 3
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_ —but you, Evelyn, you will meet the same fate; we shall bear 4 it together.” . “No!—no !—do not think so! Where I give my hand, there shall I give my heart.” At this time Maltravers half rose, and sighed audibly. “Hush!” said Caroline, in alarm. At the same moment, the whist-table broke up, and Cleveland approached Maltravers. “Tamat your service,” said he; “I know you will not stay _ the supper. You will find me in the next room ; Iam just going to speak to Lord Saxingham.” The gallant oa gentleman then . paid a compliment to the young ladies, and walked away. _ “So you too are a deserter from the ballroom!” said _ Miss Merton to Maltravers as she rose. “Tam not very well ; but do not let me frighten you away.” — “Qh, no! I hear the music—it is the last quadrille before _ supper: and here is my fortunate partner looking for me.” “T have been everywhere in search of you,” said T.ord _Doltimore, in an accent of tender reproach: “come, we are almost too late now.”
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into the ball-room. :
Caroline put her arm into Lord Doltimore’s, who hurried her
Miss Cameron looked irresolute whether or not to follow, —
when Maltravers seated himself beside her ; and the paleness of his brow, and something that bespoke pain in the compressed —
lip—went at once to her heart. In her childlike tenderness, she
would have given worlds for the sister’s privilege of sympathy —
and soothing. The room was now deserted—they were alone.
The words that he had overheard from Evelyn’s lips— ;
“Where I shall give my hand, there shall I give my heart a
Maltravers interpreted but in one sense—“she loved her be- —
trothed ”—and, strange as it may seem, at that thought, which — put the last seal upon his fate, selfish anguish was less felt than —
deep compassion. So young—so courted—so tempted as she
must be—and with such a protector!—the cold, the unsympa- — thising, the heartless Vargrave! She, too, whose feelings, so —
warm, ever trembled on her lip and eye-—Oh! when she awoke
from her dream, and knew whom she had loved, what might be
her destiny — what her danger! S “Miss Cameron,” said Maltravers, “let me for one moment
detain you; I will not trespass long. May I once, and for the last time, assume the austere rights of friendship? I have
seen much of life, Miss Cameron, and my experience has been purchased dearly: and harsh and hermit-like as I may have grown, I have not outlived such feelings as you are well formed to excite. Nay,”—(and Maltravers smiled sadly)—“I am not
about to compliment or flatter—I speak not to you as the —
young to the young; the difference of our years, that takes away sweetness from flattery, leaves still sincerity to friendship.
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You have inspired’ me with a deep interest; deeper than I thought that living beauty could ever rouse in me again! It may be that something in the tone of your voice, your manner, : a nameless grace that I cannot define—reminds me of one ; whom I knew in youth; one who had not your advantages of _ education, wealth, birth; but to whom Nature was more kind |
than Fortune.”
He paused a moment ; and, without looking towards Evelyn, :
thus renewed :-—
_ “You are entering life under brilliant auspices.—Ah! let me _ hope that the noonday will keep the promise of the dawn! You are susceptible—imaginative ; do not demand too much, |
_ or dream too fondly. When you are wedded, do not imagine ' that wedded life is exempt from its trials and its cares: if you _ know yourself beloved—and beloved you must be—do not ask _ from the busy and anxious spirit of man all which Romance _ promises and Life but rarely yields. And oh!” continued
Maltravers, with an absorbing and earnest passion, that poured
forth its language with almost breathless rapidity ;—“if ever — _ your heart rebels —if ever it be dissatisfied —fly the false sentiment as a sin! Thrown, as from your rank you must | be, on a world of a thousand perils, with no guide so constant, and so safe, as your own innocence—make not that world too _ deara friend. Were it possible that your own home ever could _ belonely or unhappy, reflect that to woman the unhappiest home is happier than all excitement abroad. You will have a
thousand suitors hereafter: believe that the asp lurks under
the flatterer’s tongue, and resolve, come what may, to be
contented with your lot. How many have I known, lovely and pure as you, who have suffered the very affections—the
_ very beauty of their nature—to destroy them! Listen to me
as a warner—as a brother—as a pilot who has passed the seas
on which your vessel is about to launch. -And ever—ever let
me know, in whatever lands your name may reach me, that one
who has brought back to me all my faith in human excellence,
while the idol of our sex is the glory of her own. Forgive me
this strange impertinence ; my heart is full, and has overflowed,
And now, Miss Cameron—Evelyn Cameron — this is my last
_ offence, and my last farewell!”
He held out his hand, and involuntarily, unknowingly, she
_ clasped it, as if to detain him till she could summon words to reply. Suddenly he heard Lord Vargrave’s voice behind—the _ spell was broken—the next moment Evelyn was alone, and the
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_ throng swept into the room towards the banquet, and laughter
and gay voices were heard—and Lord Vargrave was again by
Evelyn's side!
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