"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."