ent; but--but--as the
time approaches in which you will call for my decision, let me now say,
that I cannot feel for you--those--those sentiments, without which you
could not desire our union,--without which it were but a wrong to both
of us to form it. Nay, listen to me. I grieve bitterly at the tenor of
your too generous uncle's will; can I not atone to you? Willingly would
I sacrifice the fortune that, indeed, ought to be yours; accept it, and
remain my friend."

"Cruel Evelyn! and can you suppose that it is your fortune I seek? It is
yourself. Heaven is my witness, that, had you no dowry but your hand
and heart, it were treasure enough to me. You think you cannot love
me. Evelyn, you do not yet know yourself. Alas! your retirement in this
distant village, my own unceasing avocations, which chain me, like a
slave, to the galley-oar of politics and power, have kept us separate.
You do not know me. I am willing to hazard the experiment of that
knowledge. To devote my life to you, to make you partaker of my
ambition, my career, to raise you to the highest eminence in the
matronage of England, to transfer pride from myself to you, to love and
to honour and to prize you,--all this will be my boast; and all this
will win love for me at last. Fear not, Evelyn,--fear not for your
happiness; with me you shall know no sorrow. Affection at home,
splendour abroad, await you. I have passed the rough and arduous part of
my career; sunshine lies on the summit to which I climb. No station in
England is too high for me to aspire to,--prospects, how bright with
you, how dark without you! Ah, Evelyn! be this hand mine--the heart
shall follow!"

Vargrave's words were artful and eloquent; the words were calculated to
win their way, but the manner, the tone of voice, wanted earnestness
and truth. This was his defect; this characterized all his attempts to
seduce or to lead others, in public or in private life. He had no heart,
no deep passion, in what he undertook. He could impress you with the
conviction of his ability, and leave the conviction imperfect, because
he could not convince you that he was sincere. That best gift of mental
power--_earnestness_--was wanting to him; and Lord Vargrave's deficiency
of heart was the true cause why he was not a great man. Still, Evelyn
was affected by his words; she suffered the hand he now once more took
to remain passively in his, and said timidly, "Why, with sentiments
so generous and confiding