_Arethusa_. 'Tis well, my lord, your courting of ladies.
. . . . . .
_Claremont_. Sure this lady has a good turn done her against
her will.
PHILASTER.
In the breakfast-room at Knaresdean, the same day, and almost at the same
hour, in which occurred the scene and conversation at the rectory
recorded in our last chapter, sat Lord Vargrave and Caroline alone. The
party had dispersed, as was usual, at noon. They heard at a distance the
sounds of the billiard-balls. Lord Doltimore was playing with Colonel
Legard, one of the best players in Europe, but who, fortunately for
Doltimore, had of late made it a rule never to play for money. Mrs. and
the Misses Cipher, and most of the guests, were in the billiard-room
looking on. Lady Raby was writing letters, and Lord Raby riding over his
home farm. Caroline and Lumley had been for some time in close and
earnest conversation. Miss Merton was seated in a large armchair, much
moved, with her handkerchief to her eyes. Lord Vargrave, with his back
to the chimney-piece, was bending down and speaking in a very low voice,
while his quick eye glanced, ever and anon, from the lady's countenance
to the windows, to the doors, to be prepared against any interruption.
"No, my dear friend," said he, "believe me that I am sincere. My
feelings for you are, indeed, such as no words can paint."
"Then why--"
"Why wish you wedded to another; why wed another myself? Caroline, I
have often before explained to you that we are in this the victims of an
inevitable fate. It is absolutely necessary that I should wed Miss
Cameron. I never deceived you from the first. I should have loved
her,--my heart would have accompanied my hand, but for your too seductive
beauty, your superior mind!--yes, Caroline, your mind attracted me more
than your beauty. Your mind seemed kindred to my own,--inspired with the
proper and wise ambition which regards the fools of the world as puppets,
as counters, as chessmen. For myself, a very angel from heaven could not
make me give up the great game of life, yield to my enemies, slip from
the ladder, unravel the web I have woven! Share my heart, my friendship,
my schemes! this is the true and dignified affection that should exist
between minds like ours; all the rest is the prejudice of children."
"Vargrave, I am ambitious, worldly: I own it; but I could give up all for
you!"
"You think so, for you do not know the sacrifice. You see me now
apparently rich, in power, courted; and this fate you are willing to
share; and this fate you _should_ share, were it the real one I could
bestow on you. But reverse the medal. Deprived of office, fortune gone,
debts pressing, destitution notorious, the ridicule of embarrassments,
the disrepute attached to poverty and defeated ambition, an exile in some
foreign town on the poor pension to which alone I should be entitled, a
mendicant on the public purse; and that, too, so eaten into by demands
and debts, that there is not a grocer in the next market-town who would
envy the income of the retired minister! Retire, fallen, despised, in
the prime of life, in the zenith of my hopes! Suppose that I could bear
this for myself, could I bear it for you? _You_, born to be the ornament
of courts! And you could you see me thus--life embittered, career
lost--and feel, generous as you are, that your love had entailed on me,
on us both, on our children, this miserable lot! Impossible, Caroline! we
are too wise for such romance. It is not because we love too little, but
because our love is worthy of each other, that we disdain to make love a
curse! We cannot wrestle against the world, but we may shake hands with
it, and worm the miser out of its treasures. My heart must be ever
yours; my hand must be Miss Cameron's. Money I must have,--my whole
career depends on it. It is literally with me the highwayman's
choice,--money or life." Vargrave paused, and took Caroline's hand.
"I cannot reason with you," said she; "you know the strange empire you
have obtained over me, and, certainly, in spite of all that has passed
(and Caroline turned pale) I could bear anything rather than that you
should hereafter reproach me for selfish disregard of your
interests,--your just ambition."
"My noble friend! I do not say that I shall not feel a deep and sharp
pang at seeing you wed another; but I shall be consoled by the thought
that I have assisted to procure for you a station worthier of your merits
than that which I can offer. Lord Doltimore is rich,--you will teach him
to employ his riches well; he is weak,--your intellect will govern him;
he is in love,--your beauty will suffice to preserve his regard. Ah, we
shall be dear friends to the last!"
More--but to the same effect--did this able and crafty villain continue
to address to Caroline, whom he alternately soothed, irritated,
flattered, and revolted. Love him she certainly did, as far as love in
her could extend; but perhaps his rank, his reputation, had served to win
her affection; and; not knowing his embarrassments, she had encouraged a
worldly hope that if Evelyn should reject his hand it might be offered to
her. Under this impression she had trifled, she had coquetted, she had
played with the serpent till it had coiled around her; and she could not
escape its fascination and its folds. She was sincere,--she could have
resigned much for Lord Vargrave; but his picture startled and appalled
her. For difficulties in a palace she might be prepared; perhaps even
for some privations in a _cottage ornee_,--but certainly not for penury
in a lodging-house! She listened by degrees with more attention to
Vargrave's description of the power and homage that would be hers if she
could secure Lord Doltimore; she listened, and was in part consoled. But
the thought of Evelyn again crossed her; and perhaps with natural
jealousy was mingled some compunction at the fate to which Lord Vargrave
thus coldly appeared to condemn one so lovely and so innocent.
"But do not, Vargrave," she said, "do not be too sanguine; Evelyn may
reject you. She does not see you with my eyes; it is only a sense of
honour that, as yet, forbids her openly to refuse the fulfilment of an
engagement from which I know that she shrinks; and if she does refuse,
and you be free,--and I another's--"
"Even in that case," interrupted Vargrave, "I must turn to the Golden
Idol; my rank and name must buy me an heiress, if not so endowed as
Evelyn, wealthy enough, at least, to take from my wheels the drag-chain
of disreputable debt. But Evelyn--I will not doubt of her! her heart is
still unoccupied!"
"True; as yet her affections are not engaged."
"And this Maltravers--she is romantic, I fancy--did he seem captivated by
her beauty or her fortune?"
"No, indeed, I think not; he has been very little with us of late. He
talked to her more as to a child,--there is a disparity of years."
"I am many years older than Maltravers," muttered Vargrave, moodily.
"You--but your _manner_ is livelier, and, therefore, younger!"
"Fair flatterer! Maltravers does not love me: I fear his report of my
character--"
"I never heard him speak of you, Vargrave; and I will do Evelyn the
justice to say, that precisely as she does not love she esteems and
respects you."
"Esteems! respects! these are the feelings for a prudent Hymen," said
Vargrave, with a smile. "But, hark! I don't hear the billiard-balls;
they may find us here,--we had better separate."
Lord Vargrave lounged into the billiard-room. The young men had just
finished playing, and were about to visit Thunderer, who had won the
race, and was now the property of Lord Doltimore.
Vargrave accompanied them to the stables; and after concealing his
ignorance of horseflesh as well as he could, beneath a profusion of
compliments on fore-hand, hind-quarters, breeding, bone, substance, and
famous points, he contrived to draw Doltimore into the courtyard, while
Colonel Legard remained in converse high with the head groom.
"Doltimore, I leave Knaresdean to-morrow; you go to London, I suppose?
Will you take a little packet for me to the Home Office?"
"Certainly, when I go; but I think of staying a few days with Legard's
uncle--the old admiral; he has a hunting-box in the neighbourhood, and
has asked us both over."
"Oh, I can detect the attraction; but certainly it is a fair one, the
handsomest girl in the county; pity she has no money."
"I don't care for money," said Lord Doltimore, colouring, and settling
his chin in his neckcloth; "but you are mistaken; I have no thoughts that
way. Miss Merton is a very fine girl, but I doubt much if she cares for
me. I would never marry any woman who was not very much in love with
me." And Lord Doltimore laughed rather foolishly.
"You are more modest than clear-sighted," said Vargrave, smiling; "but
mark my words,--I predict that the beauty of next season will be a
certain Caroline Lady Doltimore."
The conversation dropped.
"I think that will be settled well," said Vargrave to himself, as he was
dressing for dinner. "Caroline will manage Doltimore, and I shall manage
one vote in the Lords and three in the Commons. I have already talked
him into proper politics; a trifle all this, to be sure: but I had
nothing else to amuse me, and one must never lose an occasion. Besides,
Doltimore is rich, and rich friends are always useful. I have Caroline,
too, in my power, and she may be of service with respect to this Evelyn,
who, instead of loving, I half hate: she has crossed my path, robbed me
of wealth; and now, if she does refuse me--but no, I will not think of
_that_!"