if she revolts from the choice he
himself preferred."

"Lord Vargrave is, perhaps, a generous, he certainly seems a candid,
man, and he must be sensible that his uncle has already done all that
justice required."

"I think so. But this, as I said, is not all; I have brought the letter
to show you. It seems to me as you apprehended. This Mr. Maltravers has
wound himself about her thoughts more than she herself imagines; you
see how she dwells on all that concerns him, and how, after checking
herself, she returns again and again to the same subject."

The curate put on his spectacles, and took the letter. It was a strange
thing, that old gray-haired minister evincing such grave interest in the
secrets of that young heart! But they who would take charge of the soul
must never be too wise to regard the heart!

Lady Vargrave looked over his shoulder as he bent down to read, and at
times placed her finger on such passages as she wished him to note. The
old curate nodded as she did so; but neither spoke till the letter was
concluded.

The curate then folded up the epistle, took off his spectacles, hemmed,
and looked grave.

"Well," said Lady Vargrave, anxiously, "well?"

"My dear friend, the letter requires consideration. In the first place,
it is clear to me that, in spite of Lord Vargrave's presence at the
rectory, his lordship so manages matters that the poor child is unable
of herself to bring that matter to a conclusion. And, indeed, to a mind
so sensitively delicate and honourable, it is no easy task."

"Shall I write to Lord Vargrave?"

"Let us think of it. In the meanwhile, this Mr. Maltravers--"

"Ah, this Mr. Maltravers!"

"The child shows us more of her heart than she thinks of; and yet I
myself am puzzled. If you observe, she has only once or twice spoken of
the Colonel Legard whom she has made acquaintance with; while she treats
at length of Mr. Maltravers, and confesses the effect he has produced
on her mind. Yet, do you know, I more dread the caution respecting the
first than all the candour that betrays the influence of the last? There
is a great difference between first fancy and first love."

"Is there?" said the lady, abstractedly.

"Again, neither of us is acquainted with this singular man,--I mean
Maltravers; his character, temper, and principles, of all of which
Evelyn is too young, too guileless, to judge for herself. One thing,
however, in her letter speaks in his favour."

"What is t