"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?"
"He told me that she was of no very elevated birth and station,—nothing more; and she herself, with her quiet, say-nothing manner, slips through all my careless questionings like an eel. She is still a beautiful creature, more regularly handsome than even Evelyn; and old Templeton had a very sweet tooth at the back of his head, though he never opened his mouth wide enough to show it."
"She must ever at least have been blameless, to judge by an air which, even now, is more like that of a child than a matron."
"Yes; she has not much of the widow about her, poor soul! But her education, except in music, has not been very carefully attended to; and she knows about as much of the world as the Bishop of Autun (better known as Prince Talleyrand) knows of the Bible. If she were not so simple, she would be silly; but silliness is never simple,—always cunning; however, there is some cunning in her keeping her past Cameronian Chronicles so close. Perhaps I may know more about her in a short time, for I intend going to C——-, where my uncle once lived, in order to see if I can revive under the rose—since peers are only contraband electioneerers—his old parliamentary influence in that city: and they may tell me more there than I now know."
"Did the late lord marry at C——-?"
"No; in Devonshire. I do not even know if Mrs. Cameron ever was at C——-."
"You must be curious to know who the father of your intended wife was?"
"Her father! No; I have no curiosity in that quarter. And, to tell you the truth, I am much too busy about the Present to be raking into that heap of rubbish we call the Past. I fancy that both your good grandmother and that comely old curate of Brook-Green know everything about Lady Vargrave; and, as they esteem her so much, I take it for granted she is sans tache."