feeling--half arising from conscientious reluctance to aid Vargrave's
objects, half from jealous irritation at the thought of Vargrave's
marrying another--had prevented her from seeking any very intimate or
confidential communication with Evelyn herself.

The dreaded conference was over; Evelyn parted from Vargrave with the
very feelings he had calculated on exciting,--the moment he ceased to be
her lover, her old childish regard for him recommenced. She pitied his
dejection, she respected his generosity, she was deeply grateful for his
forbearance. But still--still she was free; and her heart bounded within
her at the thought.

Meanwhile, Vargrave, after his solemn farewell to Evelyn, retreated again
to his own room, where he remained till his post-horses arrived. Then,
descending into the drawing-room, he was pleased to find neither Aubrey
nor Evelyn there. He knew that much affectation would be thrown away
upon Mr. and Mrs. Merton; he thanked them for their hospitality, with
grave and brief cordiality, and then turned to Caroline, who stood apart
by the window.

"All is up with me at present," he whispered. "I leave you, Caroline, in
anticipation of fortune, rank, and prosperity; that is some comfort. For
myself, I see only difficulties, embarrassment, and poverty in the
future; but I despond of nothing. Hereafter you may serve me, as I have
served you. Adieu!--I have been advising Caroline not to spoil
Doltimore, Mrs. Merton; he is conceited enough already. Good-by! God
bless you all! love to your little girls. Let me know if I can serve you
in any way, Merton,--good-by again!" And thus, sentence by sentence,
Vargrave talked himself into his carriage. As it drove by the
drawing-room windows, he saw Caroline standing motionless where he had