"Ah, Paris; I never was in Paris. I should so like to travel!" said Caroline.
"But the inns abroad are so very bad," said Lord Doltimore; "how people can rave about Italy, I can't think. I never suffered so much in my life as I did in Calabria; and at Venice I was bit to death by mosquitoes. Nothing like Paris, I assure you: don't you think so, Mr. Maltravers?"
"Perhaps I shall be able to answer you better in a short time. I think of accompanying Mr. Cleveland to Paris!"
"Indeed!" said Caroline. "Well, I envy you; but is it a sudden resolution?"
"Not very."
"Do you stay long?" asked Lord Doltimore.
"My stay is uncertain."
"And you won't let Burleigh in the meanwhile?"
"_Let_ Burleigh? No; if it once pass from my hands it will be forever!"
Maltravers spoke gravely, and the subject was changed. Lord Doltimore challenged Caroline to chess.
They sat down, and Lord Doltimore arranged the pieces.
"Sensible man, Mr. Maltravers," said the young lord; "but I don't hit it off with him: Vargrave is more agreeable. Don't you think so?"
"Y-e-s."
"Lord Vargrave is very kind to me,--I never remember any one being more so; got Legard that appointment solely because it would please me,--very friendly fellow! I mean to put myself under his wing next session!"
"You could not do better, I'm sure," said Caroline; "he is so much looked up to; I dare say he will be prime minister one of these days."
"I take the bishop:--do you think so really?--you are rather a politician?"
"Oh, no; not much of that. But my father and my uncle are stanch politicians; gentlemen know so much more than ladies. We should always go by their opinions. I think I will take the queen's pawn--your politics are the same as Lord Vargrave's?"
"Yes, I fancy so: at least I shall leave my proxy with him. Glad you don't like politics,--great bore."
"Why, so young, so connected as you are--" Caroline stopped short, and made a wrong move.
"I wish we were going to Paris together, we should enjoy it so;" and Lord Doltimore's knight checked the tower and queen.
Caroline coughed, and stretched her hand quickly to move.
"Pardon me, you will lose the game if you do so!" and Doltimore placed his hand on hers, their eyes met, Caroline turned away, and Lord Doltimore settled his right collar.
"And is it true? are you really going to leave us?" said Evelyn, and she felt very sad. But still the sadness might not be that of love,--she had felt sad after Legard had gone.
"I do not think I shall long stay away," said Maltravers, trying to speak indifferently. "Burleigh has become more dear to me than it was in earlier youth; perhaps because I have made myself duties there: and in other places I am but an isolated and useless unit in the great mass."
"You! everywhere, you must have occupations and resources,--everywhere, you must find yourself not alone. But you will not go yet?"
"Not yet--no. [Evelyn's spirits rose.] Have you read the book I sent you?" (It was one of De Stael's.)
"Yes; but it disappoints me."
"And why? It is eloquent."
"But is it true? Is there so much melancholy in life? Are the affections so full of bitterness? For me, I am so happy when with those I love! When I am with my mother, the air seems more fragrant, the skies more blue: it is surely not affection, but the absence of it, that makes us melancholy."
"Perhaps so; but if we had never known affection, we might not miss it: and the brilliant Frenchwoman speaks from memory, while you speak from hope,--memory, which is the ghost of joy: yet surely, even in the indulgence of affection, there is at times a certain melancholy, a certain fear. Have you never felt it, even with--with your mother?"
"Ah, yes! when she suffered, or when I have thought she loved me less than I desired."
"That must have been an idle and vain thought. Your mother! does she resemble you?"
"I wish I could think so. Oh, if you knew her! I have longed so often that you were acquainted with each other! It was she who taught me to sing your songs."
"My dear Mrs. Hare, we may as well throw up our cards," said the keen clear voice of Lord Vargrave: "you have played most admirably, and I know that your last card will be the ace of trumps; still the luck is against us."
"No, no; pray play it out, my lord."
"Quite useless, ma'am," said Sir John, showing two honours. "We have only the trick to make."
"Quite useless," echoed Lumley, tossing down his sovereigns, and rising with a careless yawn.
"How d'ye do, Maltravers?"
Maltravers rose; and Vargrave turned to Evelyn, and addressed her in a whisper. The proud Maltravers walked away, and suppressed a sigh; a moment more, and he saw Lord Vargrave occupying the chair he had left vacant. He laid his hand on Cleveland's shoulder.
"The carriage is waiting,--are you ready?"
CHAPTER X.
OBSCURIS vera involvens.*--VIRGIL.
* "Wrapping truth in obscurity."
A DAY or two after the date of the last chapter, Evelyn and Caroline were riding out with Lord Vargrave and Mr. Merton, and on returning home they passed through the village of Burleigh.
"Maltravers, I suppose, has an eye to the county one of these days," said Lord Vargrave, who honestly fancied that a man's eyes were always directed towards something for his own interest or advancement; "otherwise he could not surely take all this trouble about workhouses and paupers. Who could ever have imagined my romantic friend would sink into a country squire?"
"It is astonishing what talent and energy he throws into everything he attempts," said the parson. "One could not, indeed, have supposed that a man of genius could make a man of business."
"Flattering to your humble servant--whom all the world allow to be the last, and deny to be the first. But your remark shows what a sad possession genius is: like the rest of the world, you fancy that it cannot be of the least possible use. If a man is called a genius, it means that he is to be thrust out of all the good things in this life. He is not fit for anything but a garret! Put a _genius_ into office! make a _genius_ a bishop! or a lord chancellor!--the world would be turned topsy-turvy! You see that you are quite astonished that a genius can be even a county magistrate, and know the difference between a spade and a poker! In fact, a genius is supposed to be the most ignorant, impracticable, good-for-nothing, do-nothing sort of thing that ever walked upon two legs. Well, when I began life I took excellent care that nobody should take _me_ for a genius; and it is only within the last year or two that I ventured to emerge a little out of my shell. I have not been the better for it; I was getting on faster while I was merely a plodder. The world is so fond of that droll fable, the hare and the tortoise,--it really believes because (I suppose the fable to be true!) a tortoise _once_ beat a hare that all tortoises are much better runners than hares possibly can be. Mediocre men have the monopoly of the loaves and fishes; and even when talent does rise in life, it is a talent which only differs from mediocrity by being more energetic and bustling."
"You