that can never be applied to you; you acted as became you,--agreeably to
your own instinctive sense of what is best when at your age,--independent
in fortune and rank, and still so lovely,--you resigned all that would
have attracted others, and devoted yourself, in retirement, to a life of
quiet and unknown benevolence. You are in your sphere in this
village,--humble though it be,--consoling, relieving, healing the
wretched, the destitute, the infirm; and teaching your Evelyn insensibly
to imitate your modest and Christian virtues." The good old lady spoke
warmly, and with tears in her eyes; her companion placed her hand in Mrs.
Leslie's.

"You cannot make me vain," said she, with a sweet and melancholy smile.
"I remember what I was when you first gave shelter to the poor, desolate
wanderer and her fatherless child; and I, who was then so poor and
destitute, what should I be, if I was deaf to the poverty and sorrows of
others,--others, too, who are better than I am. But now Evelyn, as you
say, is growing up; the time approaches when she must decide on accepting
or rejecting Lord Vargrave. And yet in this village how can she compare
him with others; how can she form a choice? What you say is very true;
and yet I did not think of it sufficiently. What shall I do? I am only
anxious, dear girl, to act so as may be best for her own happiness."

"Of that I am sure," returned Mrs. Leslie; "and yet I know not how to
advise. On one hand, so much is due to the wishes of your late husband,
in every point of view, that if Lord Vargrave be worthy of Evelyn's
esteem and affection, it would be most desirable that she should prefer
him to all others. But if he be what I hear he is considered in the
world,--an artful, scheming, almost heartless man, of ambitious and hard
pursuits,--I tremble to think how completely the happiness of Evelyn's
whole life may be thrown away. She certainly is not in love with him,