ile, Doltimore is mine; Caroline will rule him, and I rule
her. His vote and his boroughs are something,--his money will be
more immediately useful: I must do him the honour to borrow a few
thousands,--Caroline must manage that for me. The fool is miserly,
though a spendthrift; and looked black when I delicately hinted the
other day that I wanted a friend--_id est_, a loan! money and friendship
same thing,--distinction without a difference!" Thus cogitating,
Vargrave whiled away the minutes till his carriage stopped at Mr.
Merton's door.

As he entered the hall he met Caroline, who had just quitted her own
room.

"How lucky I am that you have on your bonnet! I long for a walk with you
round the lawn."

"And I, too, am glad to see you, Lord Vargrave," said Caroline, putting
her arm in his.

"Accept my best congratulations, my own sweet friend," said Vargrave,
when they were in the grounds. "You have no idea how happy Doltimore
is. He came to Knaresdean yesterday to communicate the news, and his
neckcloth was primmer than ever. C'est un bon enfant."

"Ah, how can you talk thus? Do you feel no pain at the thought
that--that I am another's?"

"Your heart will be ever mine,--and that is the true fidelity. What
else, too, could be done? As for Lord Doltimore, we will go shares
in him. Come, cheer thee, _m'amie_; I rattle on thus to keep up your
spirits. Do not fancy I am happy!"

Caroline let fall a few tears; but beneath the influence of Vargrave's
sophistries and flatteries, she gradually recovered her usual hard and
worldly tone of mind.

"And where is Evelyn?" asked Vargrave. "Do you know, the little witch
seemed to be half mad the night of the ball. Her head was turned; and
when she sat next me at supper, she not only answered every question
I put to her _a tort et a travers_, but I fancied every moment she was
going to burst out crying. Can you tell what was the matter with her?"

"She was grieved to hear that I was to be married to the man I do not
love. Ah, Vargrave, she has more heart than you have!"

"But she never fancies that you love me?" asked Lumley, in alarm. "You
women are so confoundedly confidential!"

"No, she does not suspect our secret."

"Then I scarcely think your approaching marriage was a sufficient cause
for so much distraction."

"Perhaps she may have overheard some of the impertinent whispers
about her mother,--'Who was Lady Vargrave?' and 'What Cameron was
Lady Vargrave's first