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