CHAPTER VIII.

THE more he strove

To advance his suit, the farther from her love.

DRYDEN: _Theodore and Honoria_.

THE line of conduct which Vargrave now adopted with regard to Evelyn was

craftily conceived and carefully pursued. He did not hazard a single

syllable which might draw on him a rejection of his claims; but at the

same time no lover could be more constant, more devoted, in attentions.

In the presence of others, there was an air of familiar intimacy that

seemed to arrogate a right, which to her he scrupulously shunned to

assert. Nothing could be more respectful, nay, more timid, than his

language, or more calmly confident than his manner. Not having much

vanity, nor any very acute self-conceit, he did not delude himself into

the idea of winning Evelyn's affections; he rather sought to entangle her

judgment, to weave around her web upon web,--not the less dangerous for

being invisible. He took the compact as a matter of course, as something

not to be broken by any possible chance; her hand was to be his as a

right: it was her heart that he so anxiously sought to gain. But this

distinction was so delicately drawn, and insisted upon so little in any

tangible form, that, whatever Evelyn's wishes for an understanding, a

much more experienced woman would have been at a loss to ripen one.

Evelyn longed to confide in Caroline, to consult her; but Caroline,

though still kind, had grown distant. "I wish," said Evelyn, one night

as she sat in Caroline's dressing-room,--"I wish that I knew what tone to

take with Lord Vargrave. I feel more and more convinced that a union

between us is impossible; and yet, precisely because he does not press

it, am I unable to tell him so. I wish you could undertake that task;

you seem such friends with him."

"I!" said Caroline, changing countenance.

"Yes, you! Nay, do not blush, or I shall think you envy me. Could you

not save us both from the pain that otherwise must come sooner or later?"

"Lord Vargrave would not thank me for such an act of friendship.

Besides, Evelyn, consider,--it is scarcely possible to break off this

engagement _now_."

"_Now_! and why now?" said Evelyn, astonished.

"The world believes it so implicitly. Observe, whoever sits next you

rises if Lord Vargrave approaches; the neighbourhood talk of nothing else

but your marriage; and your fate, Evelyn, is not pitied."

"I will leave this place! I will go back to the cottage! I cannot bear

this!" said Evelyn, passionately wringing her hands.

"You do not love another, I am sure: not young Mr. Hare, with his green

coat and straw-coloured whiskers; or Sir Henry Foxglove, with his

how-d'ye-do like a view-halloo; perhaps, indeed, Colonel Legard,--he is

handsome. What! do you blush at his name? No; you say 'not Legard:' who

else is there?"

"You are cruel; you trifle with me!" said Evelyn, in tearful reproach;

and she rose to go to her own room.

"My dear girl!" said Caroline, touched by her evident pain; "learn from

me--if I may say so--that marriages are _not_ made in heaven! Yours will

be as fortunate as earth can bestow. A love-match is usually the least

happy of all. Our foolish sex demand so much in love; and love, after

all, is but one blessing among many. Wealth and rank remain when love is

but a heap of ashes. For my part, I have chosen my destiny and my

husband."

"Your husband!"

"Yes, you see him in Lord Doltimore. I dare say we shall be as happy as

any amorous Corydon and Phyllis." But there was irony in Caroline's

voice as she spoke; and she sighed heavily. Evelyn did not believe her

serious; and the friends parted for the night.

"Mine is a strange fate!" said Caroline to herself; "I am asked by the

man whom I love, and who professes to love me, to bestow myself on

another, and to plead for him to a younger and fairer bride. Well, I

will obey him in the first; the last is a bitterer task, and I cannot

perform it earnestly. Yet Vargrave has a strange power over me; and when

I look round the world, I see that he is right. In these most

commonplace artifices, there is yet a wild majesty that charms and

fascinates me. It is something to rule the world: and his and mine are

natures formed to do so."

Alice, or the Mysteries — Book 04 · 第 8 / 10 章