"Yes, it is for the best," he took up his hat and quitted the room. He
joined his stepchild on the lawn. He romped with her--he played with
her--that stiff, stately man!--he laughed louder than she did, and ran
almost as fast. And when she was fatigued and breathless, he made her
sit down beside him, in a little summer-house, and, fondly stroking down
her disordered tresses, said, "You tire me out, child; I am growing too
old to play with you. Lumley must supply my place. You love Lumley?"

"Oh, dearly, he is so good-humoured, so kind: he has given me such a
beautiful doll, with such eyes!"

"You shall be his little wife--you would like to be his little wife?"

"Wife! why, poor mamma is a wife, and she is not so happy as I am."

"Your mamma has bad health, my dear," said Lord Vargrave, a little
discomposed. "But it is a fine thing to be a wife and have a carriage
of your own, and a fine house, and jewels, and plenty of money, and be
your own mistress; and Lumley will love you dearly."

"Oh, yes, I should like all that."

"And you will have a protector, child, when I am no more."

The tone, rather than the words, of her stepfather struck a damp into
that childish heart. Evelyn lifted her eyes, gazed at him earnestly,
and then, throwing her arms round him, burst into tears.

Lord Vargrave wiped his own eyes, and covered her with kisses.