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Alice, or the Mysteries — Book 01 by Baron Edward Bulwer Lytton Lytton
page 51 of 66 (77%)
"Cruel Evelyn! and can you suppose that it is your fortune I seek? It is
yourself. Heaven is my witness, that, had you no dowry but your hand and
heart, it were treasure enough to me. You think you cannot love me.
Evelyn, you do not yet know yourself. Alas! your retirement in this
distant village, my own unceasing avocations, which chain me, like a
slave, to the galley-oar of politics and power, have kept us separate.
You do not know me. I am willing to hazard the experiment of that
knowledge. To devote my life to you, to make you partaker of my
ambition, my career, to raise you to the highest eminence in the
matronage of England, to transfer pride from myself to you, to love and
to honour and to prize you,--all this will be my boast; and all this will
win love for me at last. Fear not, Evelyn,--fear not for your happiness;
with me you shall know no sorrow. Affection at home, splendour abroad,
await you. I have passed the rough and arduous part of my career;
sunshine lies on the summit to which I climb. No station in England is
too high for me to aspire to,--prospects, how bright with you, how dark
without you! Ah, Evelyn! be this hand mine--the heart shall follow!"

Vargrave's words were artful and eloquent; the words were calculated to
win their way, but the manner, the tone of voice, wanted earnestness and
truth. This was his defect; this characterized all his attempts to
seduce or to lead others, in public or in private life. He had no heart,
no deep passion, in what he undertook. He could impress you with the
conviction of his ability, and leave the conviction imperfect, because he
could not convince you that he was sincere. That best gift of mental
power--_earnestness_--was wanting to him; and Lord Vargrave's deficiency
of heart was the true cause why he was not a great man. Still, Evelyn
was affected by his words; she suffered the hand he now once more took to
remain passively in his, and said timidly, "Why, with sentiments so
generous and confiding, why do you love me, who cannot return your
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