of this callous and resolute man!

On arriving at Lady Doltimore's, he found Caroline alone in the
drawing-room. It was a _tete-a-tete_ that he by no means desired.

"Lord Vargrave," said Caroline, coldly, "I wished a short conversation
with you; and finding you did not come in the morning, I sent you a note
an hour ago. Did you receive it?"

"No; I have been from home since six o'clock,--it is now nine."

"Well, then, Vargrave," said Caroline, with a compressed and writhing
lip, and turning very pale, "I tremble to tell you that I fear Doltimore
suspects. He looked at me sternly this morning, and said, 'You seem
unhappy, madam; this marriage of Lord Vargrave's distresses you!'"

"I warned you how it would be,--your own selfishness will betray and ruin
you."

"Do not reproach me, man!" said Lady Doltimore, with great vehemence.
"From you at least I have a right to pity, to forbearance, to succour. I
will not bear reproach from _you_."

"I reproach you for your own sake, for the faults you commit against
yourself; and I must say, Caroline, that after I had generously conquered
all selfish feeling, and assisted you to so desirable and even brilliant
a position, it is neither just nor high-minded in you to evince so
ungracious a reluctance to my taking the only step which can save me from
actual ruin. But what does Doltimore suspect? What ground has he for
suspicion, beyond that want of command of countenance which it is easy to