left her; he kissed his hand,--her eyes were fixed mournfully on his.
Hard, wayward, and worldly as Caroline Merton was, Vargrave was yet not
worthy of the affection he had inspired; for she could _feel_, and he
could not,--the distinction, perhaps, between the sexes. And there still
stood Caroline Merton, recalling the last tones of that indifferent
voice, till she felt her hand seized, and turned round to see Lord
Doltimore, and smile upon the happy lover, persuaded that he was adored!