ned silent; and the party soon broke up, and adjourned to the
ballroom.

CHAPTER III.

LE plus grand defaut de la penetration n'est pas de n'aller
point jusqu'au but,--c'est de la passer.*--LA ROCHEFOUCAULD.

* "The greatest defect of penetration is not that of not going
just up to the point,--'tis the passing it."

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 _loved_ Maltravers,
in the true acceptation of the word "love," 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
Knaresdean 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. The letter, though affectionate,
was short. Evelyn had been some months absent,--Lady Vargrave was
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 Maltravers 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 gayety 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.

"Is 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