"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 husband?' I overheard a hundred such vulgar questions; and provincial people whisper so loud."
"Ah, that is a very probable solution of the mystery; and for my part, I am almost as much puzzled as any one else can be to know who Lady Vargrave was!"
"Did not your uncle tell you?"