In truth Montague Arnold possessed not that feeling which can only be cherished by true, unselfish love. He openly admired Evelyn Verne for her beauty. His sole desire was to make her his, and bend her to his will. His nature was too superficial to harbor jealousy, but his stubborn vanity answered the purpose.
Ah, my peerless Evelyn! you may blush and smile at the well-timed compliments of your admirers now, but your reign seems nearly at an end!
"What a grand opportunity to give a party," exclaimed Mrs. Verne, glancing at her daughter for approval.
"It would be just the thing, mamma," said Evelyn, in her nonchalant and dreamy sort of air.
"You are already settled my dear and now I must try to do my duty towards Marguerite. Really, dearest, you have no idea of the anxiety I have about that girl. She is so much like her father that I am at a loss how to act. You know that she secretly adores that good-for-nothing lawyer and if it were only on her part I would not care, but I am certain that he is head and ears in love with her. Dear me! What a world of trouble we poor mothers have to endure. Why do not our children see as we do?"
Poor Mrs. Verne! She seemed in much distress and assumed a woebegone appearance.
Dear mamma—I think you ought to feel less uneasiness just now for I verily believe that Cousin Jennie has designs upon our unfortunate visitor."
"God grant that she may be successful," was the reply.
"You must encourage it in every way, dear mamma," said Evelyn, with more earnestness than usual.
"Yes; I was just thinking of a plan which doubtless by clever management, will succeed."