arriage of Lord Vargrave was whirled along
the narrow sweep that conducted from the lodge to the house. Vargrave,
as he saw the party, kissed his hand from the window; and leaping
from the carriage, when it stopped at the porch, hastened to meet his
hostess.

"My dear Lady Vargrave, I am so glad to see you! You are looking
charmingly; and Evelyn?--oh, there she is; the dear coquette, how lovely
she is! how she has improved! But who [sinking his voice], who are those
ladies?"

"Guests of ours,--Mrs. Leslie, whom you have often heard us speak of,
but never met--"

"Yes; and the others?"

"Her daughter and grandchild."

"I shall be delighted to know them."

A more popular manner than Lord Vargrave's it is impossible to conceive.
Frank and prepossessing, even when the poor and reckless Mr. Ferrers,
without rank or reputation, his smile, the tone of his voice, his
familiar courtesy,--apparently so inartificial and approaching almost
to a boyish bluntness of good-humour,--were irresistible in the rising
statesman and favoured courtier.

Mrs. Merton was enchanted with him; Caroline thought him, at the first
glance, the most fascinating person she had ever seen; even Mrs. Leslie,
more grave, cautious, and penetrating, was almost equally pleased with
the first impression; and it was not till, in his occasional silence,
his features settled into their natural expression that she fancied she
detected in the quick suspicious eye and the close compression of the
lips the tokens of that wily, astute, and worldly character, which, in
proportion as he had risen in his career, even his own party reluctantly
and mysteriously assigned to one of their most prominent leaders.

When Vargrave took Evelyn's hand, and raised it with meaning gallantry
to his lips, the girl first blushed deeply, and then turned pale
as death; nor did the colour thus chased away soon return to the
transparent cheek. Not noticing signs which might bear a twofold
interpretation, Lumley, who seemed in high spirits, rattled away on a
thousand matters,--praising the view, the weather, the journey, throwing
out a joke here and a compliment there, and completing his conquest over
Mrs. Merton and Caroline.

"You have left London in the very height of its gayety, Lord Vargrave,"
said Caroline, as they sat conversing after dinner.

"True, Miss Merton; but the country is in the height of its gayety too."

"Are you so fond of the country, then?"

"By fits and