"Tush!" muttered the stranger impatiently as he closed the door.
The next morning when he awoke Legard saw upon the table a small packet; it contained a sum that exceeded the debt named.
On the envelope was written, "Remember the bond."
The stranger had already quitted Venice. He had not travelled through the Italian cities under his own name, for he had just returned from the solitudes of the East, and was not yet hardened to the publicity of the gossip which in towns haunted by his countrymen attended a well-known name; that given to Legard by the innkeeper, mutilated by Italian pronunciation, the young man had never heard before, and soon forgot. He paid his debts, and he scrupulously kept his word. The adventure of that night went far, indeed, to reform and ennoble the mind and habits of George Legard. Time passed, and he never met his benefactor, till in the halls of Burleigh he recognized the stranger in Maltravers.
CHAPTER VII.
WHY value, then, that strength of mind they boast, As often varying, and as often lost?
HAWKINS BROWNE (translated by SOAME JENYNS).
MALTRAVERS was lying at length, with his dogs around him, under a beech-tree that threw its arms over one of the calm still pieces of water that relieved the groves of Burleigh, when Colonel Legard spied him from the bridle-road which led through the park to the house. The colonel dismounted, threw the rein over his arm; and at the sound of the hoofs Maltravers turned, saw the visitor, and rose. He held out his hand to Legard, and immediately began talking of indifferent matters.
Legard was embarrassed; but his nature was not one to profit by the silence of a benefactor. "Mr. Maltravers," said he, with graceful emotion, "though you have not yet allowed me an opportunity to allude to it, do not think I am ungrateful for the service you rendered me."
Maltravers looked grave, but made no reply. Legard resumed, with a heightened colour,--
"I cannot say how I regret that it is not yet in my power to discharge my debt; but--"
"When it is, you will do so. Pray think no more of it. Are you going to the rectory?"
"No, not this morning; in fact, I leave B-----shire tomorrow. Pleasant family, the Mertons."
"And Miss Cameron--"
"Is certainly beautiful,--and very rich. How could she ever think of marrying Lord Vargrave, so much older,--she who could have so many admirers?"
"Not, surely, while betrothed to another?"
This was a refinement which Legard, though an honourable man as men go, did not quite understand. "Oh," said he, "that was by some eccentric old relation,--her father-in-law, I think. Do you think she is bound by such an engagement?"
Maltravers made no reply, but amused himself by throwing a stick into the water, and sending one of his dogs after it. Legard looked on, and his affectionate disposition yearned to make advances which something distant in the manner of Maltravers chilled and repelled.
When Legard was gone, Maltravers followed him with his eyes. "And this is the man whom Cleveland thinks Evelyn could love! I could forgive her marrying Vargrave. Independently of the conscientious feeling that may belong to the engagement, Vargrave has wit, talent, intellect; and this man has nothing but the skin of the panther. Was I wrong to save him? No. Every human life, I suppose, has its uses. But Evelyn--I could despise her if her heart was the fool of the eye!"
These comments were most unjust to Legard; but they were just of that kind of injustice which the man of talent often commits against the man of external advantages, and which the latter still more often retaliates on the man of talent. As Maltravers thus soliloquized, he was accosted by Mr. Cleveland.
"Come, Ernest, you must not cut these unfortunate Mertons any longer. If you continue to do so, do you know what Mrs. Hare and the world will say?"
"No--what?"
"That you have been refused by Miss Merton."
"That _would_ be a calumny!" said Ernest, smiling.
"Or that you are hopelessly in love with Miss Cameron."
Maltravers started; his proud heart swelled; he pulled his hat over his brows, and said, after a short pause,--
"Well, Mrs. Hare and the world must not have it all their own way; and so, whenever you go to the rectory, take me with you."
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