Ernest Maltravers, stands the guilty object of Alice's first love. Let
that secret still be kept; relieve Alice's mind from the apprehension of
learning that the man who betrayed her yet lives: he will not live long!
I leave time and method of explanation to your own judgment and
acuteness. Now for Evelyn." Here Maltravers stated generally the tone
of the letter he had written. Vargrave listened thoughtfully.

"Maltravers," said he, "it is right to try first the effect of your
letter. But if it fail, if it only serve to inflame the imagination and
excite the interest, if Evelyn still continue to love you, if that love
preys upon her, if it should undermine health and spirit, if it should
destroy her?"

Maltravers groaned. Lumley proceeded: "I say this not to wound you, but
to provide against all circumstances. I too have spent the night in
revolving what is best to be done in such a case; and this is the plan I
have formed. Let us, if need be, tell the truth to Evelyn, robbing the
truth only of its shame. Nay, nay, listen. Why not say that under a
borrowed name and in the romance of early youth you knew and loved Alice
(though in innocence and honour)? Your tender age, the difference of
rank, forbade your union. Her father, discovering your clandestine
correspondence, suddenly removed her from the country, and destroyed all
clew for your inquiries. You lost sight of each other,--each was taught
to believe the other dead. Alice was compelled by her father to marry
Mr. Cameron; and after his death, her poverty and her love for her only
child induced her to accept my uncle. You have now learned all,--have
learned that Evelyn is the daughter of your first love, the daughter of
one who adores you still, and whose life your remembrance has for so many
years embittered. Evelyn herself will at once comprehend all the
scruples of a delicate mind; Evelyn herself will recoil from the thought