vague, unaccountable curiosity respecting this secluded and solitary
mother; all concerning her early fate seemed so wrapped in mystery.
Cleveland, in reply to his letter, had informed him that all inquiries
respecting the birth and first marriage of Lady Vargrave had failed.
Evelyn evidently knew but little of either, and he felt a certain
delicacy in pressing questions which might be ascribed to the
inquisitiveness of a vulgar family pride. Moreover, lovers have so much
to say to each other, that he had not time to talk at length to Evelyn
about third persons. He slept ill that night,--dark and boding dreams
disturbed his slumber. He rose late and dejected by presentiments he
could not master: his morning meal was scarcely over, and he had already
taken his hat to go to Evelyn's for comfort and sunshine, when the door
opened, and he was surprised by the entrance of Lord Vargrave.

Lumley seated himself with a formal gravity very unusual to him, and as
if anxious to waive unnecessary explanations, began as follows, with a
serious and impressive voice and aspect:--

"Maltravers, of late years we have been estranged from each other. I do
not presume to dictate to you your friendships or your dislikes. Why
this estrangement has happened you alone can determine. For my part I am
conscious of no offence; that which I was I am still. It is you who have
changed. Whether it be the difference of our political opinions, or any
other and more secret cause, I know not. I lament, but it is now too
late to attempt to remove it. If you suspect me of ever seeking, or even
wishing, to sow dissension between yourself and my ill-fated cousin, now
no more, you are mistaken. I ever sought the happiness and union of you
both. And yet, Maltravers, you then came between me and an early and
cherished dream. But I suffered in silence; my course was at least
disinterested, perhaps generous: let it pass. A second time you cross my