Douce had gulled him like a child! Well said the
shrewd small philosopher of France--"On peut etre plus fin qu'un autre,
mais pas plus fin que tous les autres."*

* One may be more sharp than one's neighbour, but one can't be
sharper than all one's neighbours.--ROCHEFOUCAULD.

To Legard, whom Maltravers had again encountered at Dover, the latter
related the downfall of Evelyn's fortunes; and Maltravers loved him when
he saw that, far from changing his affection, the loss of wealth seemed
rather to raise his hopes. They parted; and Legard set out for Paris.

But was Maltravers all the while forgetful of Alice? He had not been
twelve hours in London before he committed to a long and truthful letter
all his thoughts, his hopes, his admiring and profound gratitude. Again,
and with solemn earnestness, he implored her to accept his hand, and to
confirm at the altar the tale which had been told to Evelyn. Truly he
said that the shock which his first belief in Vargrave's falsehood had
occasioned, his passionate determination to subdue all trace of a
love then associated with crime and horror, followed so close by his
discovery of Alice's enduring faith and affection, had removed the
image of Evelyn from the throne it had hitherto held in his desires and
thoughts; truly he said that he was now convinced that Evelyn would soon
be consoled for his loss by another, with whom she would be happier
than with him; truly and solemnly he declared that if Alice rejected
him still, if even Alice were no more, his suit to Evelyn never could be
renewed, and Alice's memory would usurp the place of all living love!

Her answer came: it pierced him to the heart. It was so humble, so
grateful, so tender still. Unknown to herself, love yet coloured every
word; but it was love pained, galled, crushed, and trampled on; it was
love, proud from its very depth and purity. His offer was refused.

Months passed away. Maltravers yet trusted to time. The curate had
returned to Brook-Green, and his letters fed Ernest's hopes and assured
his doubts. The more leisure there was left him for reflection, the
fainter became those dazzling and rainbow hues in which Evelyn had been
robed and surrounded, and the brighter the halo that surrounded his
earliest love. The more he pondered on Alice's past history, and the
singular beauty of her faithful attachment, the more he was impressed
with wonder and admiration, the more anxious to secure to his side one