The last tie that had yet united the guilty Caroline to Vargrave was
broken,--a woman forgives sin in her lover, but never meanness. The
degrading, the abject position in which she had seen one whom she had
served as a slave (though, as yet, all his worst villanies were unknown
to her), filled her with shame, horror, and disgust. She rose abruptly,
and quitted the room. They did not miss her.

Maltravers approached Evelyn; he took her hand, and pressed it to his
lips and heart.

"Evelyn," said he, mournfully, "you require an explanation,--to-morrow I
will give and seek it. To-night we are both too unnerved for such
communications. I can only now feel joy at your escape, and hope that I
may still minister to your future happiness."

"But," said Aubrey, "can we believe this new and astounding statement?
Can this loss be so irremediable; may we not yet take precaution, and
save, at least, some wrecks of this noble fortune?"

"I thank you for recalling me to the world," said Maltravers, eagerly.
"I will see to it this instant; and tomorrow, Evelyn, after my interview
with you, I will hasten to London, and act in that capacity still left to
me,--your guardian, your friend."

He turned away his face, and hurried to the door.

Evelyn clung more closely to Aubrey. "But you will not leave me
to-night? You can stay? We can find you accommodation; do not leave
me."