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 Copyrif/k, 18ns, 
 By Little, Brown, and Comi-any. 
 
 I ! 
 
 UMVKiisiTv Press: 
 John Wn,.s„N am> Son, Camrridoe. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 As we have already said, "Ernest Maltravers" 
 and "Alice" are one story, the leading charact ?;■ 
 of both being the same. In the present volume 
 we have an account of the early years, training, 
 and development into womanhood of Evelyn Cam- 
 eron, one of the most charming creations of Bul- 
 wer's genius, to whom Maltravers, a fourth time 
 love-smitten, is finally betrothed, but who, by an 
 unexpected turn of events, is married, not to that 
 heart-breaker, but to Colonel Legard. Some new 
 minor characters are introduced, among the most 
 interesting of whom are Aubrey and Merton, the 
 rectors ; Caroline Merton ; the " stubborn, passionate 
 old brute," Legard, the admiral ; his nephew George, 
 who, " regarding his uncle as an exhaustless mine, 
 goes on breaking hearts and making debts till one 
 morning he wakes in the bench ; " and Douce, the 
 nervous, stammering little banker, — all of whom 
 are well drawn, but require no special comment. 
 
 Novelists, even of the highest genius, will always 
 require, we suppose, tlie help of remarkable acci- 
 dents, extraordinary meetings, strange surprises, 
 and other such machinery, to work out their plots; 
 
VI 
 
 INTKOUUCTION. 
 
 i <! 
 
 ,' ! 
 
 but the number of fortuitous events in the present 
 story is quite noteworthy. Alice's fatlier, Luke 
 Darvel, who has not seen her for years, happens 
 to be pasfsing through the village and along the 
 street where she lives, when he sees her at the 
 window of her home; Maltravers, who has lost 
 all trace of her since he was obliged to leave her 
 by a summons from his paternal home, chances 
 to discover her at a country church; Alice, at a 
 country inn where she is temporarily detained, 
 overhears the voice of Maltravers, from whom she 
 has long been separated, in an adjoining room, and 
 opening a door, discovers him on his knees before 
 Madame de St. Ventadour, and kissing her hand. 
 
 "Alice" and its predecessor have been censured 
 as immoral in their tendency ; but we have not 
 detected this fault. The only blot we have noticed 
 in the former is the contrivance to appal the 
 reader, and even the hero himself, with the revolt- 
 ing thought that he has fallen in love with his own 
 child. It is true that both are eventually disabused 
 of this idea ; but it is none the less a poor device, 
 unworthy of the authorV genius. 
 
 "Alice; or the Mysteries," was first published 
 by Saunders and Otley, London, in 1838. 
 
 W. M. 
 
BOOK I. 
 
 2f rhv ^vavXiois virh itvipoitinon 
 • • • iivafiodffcu. 
 
 Eunip. : Hel. 1. 1116, 
 
 Thee, hid the bowering vales amidst, I call. 
 
I 
 
 t!l 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 BOOK I. —CHAPTER I. 
 
 Who art thou, fair one, who usurp'st the place 
 Of Blanch, the lady gf the matchless grace ? 
 
 Lamb. 
 
 It was towards the evening of a day in early April that 
 two ladies were seated by the open windows of a cottage 
 in Devonshire. The lawn before them was gay with 
 evergreens, relieved by the first few flowers and fresh 
 turf of the reviving spring ; and at a distance, through 
 an opening amongst the trees, the sea, blue and tran- 
 quil, bounded the view, and contrasted the more con- 
 fined and home-like features of the scene. It was a spot 
 remote, sequestered, shut out from the business and 
 pleasures of the world; as such it suited the tastes and 
 character of the owner. 
 
 Thc'u owner was the younger of the ladies seated by 
 the window. You would scarcely have guessed, from 
 her appearance, that she was more than seven or eight 
 and twenty, though she exceeded by four or five years 
 that critical boundary in the life of beauty. Her form 
 was slight and delicate in its proportions, nor was her 
 countenance the less lovely because, from its gentleness 
 and repose (not unmixed with a certain sadness), the 
 coarse and the gay might have thought it wanting in 
 
i il 
 
 4 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 expression. For tliere is a stillness in the aspect of 
 those who have felt deeply, which deceives the common 
 eye, —as rivers are often alike tranquil and profound 
 m proportion as they are remote from the springs which' 
 agitated and swelled the commencement of their course, 
 and by which their waters are still, though invisiblv' 
 supplied. •^ ' 
 
 The elder lady, the guest of her companion, was past 
 seventy; her gray hair was drawn back from the fore, 
 head, and gathered under a stiff cap of Quaker-like sim- 
 plicity; while her dress, rich but plain, and of no very 
 modern fashion, served to increase the venerable appear- 
 ance of one who seemed not ashamed of years. 
 
 "My dear Mrs. Leslie," said the lady of the house 
 after a thoughtful pause in the conversation that had 
 been carried on for the last hour, " it is very true- per- 
 haps I was to blame in coming to this place; I ought not 
 to have been so seltish." 
 
 ^^ "No, my dear friend," returned Mrs. Leslie, gently; 
 selhsh IS a word that can never be applied to you; you 
 acted as became you, agreeably to your own instinctive 
 sense of what is best, when at your age - independent 
 in fortune and rank, and still so lovely -you resigned 
 al that would have attracted others, and devoted your- 
 self, in retirement, to a life of quiet and unknown be- 
 nevolence. You are in your sphere in this village, — 
 humble though it be, -consoling, relieving, healing 
 tlie wretched, the destitute, the infirm, and teaching 
 your Evelyn insensibly to imitate your modest and 
 Christian virtues." The good old lady spoke warmly, 
 and with tears in her eyes; her companion placed her 
 hand in Mrs. Leslie's. 
 
 " You cannot make me vain," said she, with a sweet 
 and melancholy smile. " I remember what I was when 
 
 I 
 
alick; or, the mystkiues. 5 
 
 you first gave shelter to tlie poor, desolate wanderer and 
 her fatherless child; and I, who was then so poor and 
 destitute, what should I be if I was deaf to the poverty 
 and sorrows of others,— others, too, who are better tnan 
 I am? But now Evelyn, as you say, is growing up; 
 the time approaches when she must decide on accepting 
 or rejecting Lord Vargrave; and yet in this village how 
 can she compare him with others? — how can she form a 
 choice? What you say is very true; and yet I did not 
 think of it sufficiently. What shall I do? I am oidy 
 anxious, dear girl, to act so as may be best for her own 
 happiness. " 
 
 " Of that I am sure," returned Mrs. Leslie; " and yet 
 I know not how to advise. On one hand, so much is 
 due to the wishes of your late husband, in every point 
 of view, that if Lord Vargrave be worthy of Evelyn's 
 esteem and affection, it would be most desirable that she 
 should prefer him to all others. But if he be what I 
 hear he is considered in the world, — an artful , schem- 
 ing, almost heartless man, of ambitious and hard pursuits, 
 — I tremble to think how completely the happiness of 
 Evelyn's whole life may be thrown away. She cer- 
 tainly is not in love with him, and yet I fear she is one 
 whose nature is but too susceptible of affection. She 
 ought now to see others, to know her own mind, and 
 not to be hurried, blindfold and inexperienced, into a 
 step that decides existence. This is a duty Ave owe to 
 her, — nay, even to the late Lord Vargrave, anxious as 
 he was for the marriage. His aim was surely her happi- 
 ness, and he would not have insisted upon means that 
 time and circumstances might show to be contrary to the 
 end he had in view." 
 
 " You are right," replied Lady Vargrave; "when my 
 poor husband lay on his bed of death, just before he 
 
6 
 
 ALICR; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 ! I 
 
 summoned his nepliew to receive his last blessing, he 
 sulci to me, * Providence can counteract all our schemes. 
 If ever it should be for Evelyn's real happiness that my 
 wish for her marriage with Lumley Ferrers should not 
 be fulfilled, to you I must leave the right to decide on 
 what I cannot foresee. All I ask is, that no obstacle 
 shall be thrown in the way of my wish; and that the 
 child shall be trained up to consider Lumley as her fu- 
 ture husband.' Among his papers was a letter ad- 
 dressed to me to the same effect; and, indeed, in other 
 respects that letter left more to my judgment than I 
 had any right to expect. Oh, I am often unhappy to 
 think that he did not marry one who would have de- 
 served his affection ! and — but regret is useless now ! " 
 ^ "I wish you could really feel so," said Mrs. Leslie, 
 " for regret of another kind still seems to haunt you; and 
 I do not think you have yet forgotten your early 
 sorrows. " 
 
 "Ah! how 
 quivering lip. 
 
 At that instant a light shadow darkened the sunny 
 lawn in front of the casements, and a sweet, gay young 
 voice was heard singing at a little distance ; a moment 
 more, and a beautiful girl, in the first bloom of youth, 
 bounded lightly along the grass, and halted opposite the 
 friends. 
 
 It was a remarkable contrast: the repose and quiet 
 of the two persons we have described, — the age and gray 
 hairs of the one, the resigned and melancholy gentleness 
 written on the features of the other, — with the spring- 
 ing step and laughing eyes and radiant bloom of the 
 new-comer. As she stood with the setting sun glowing 
 full upon her rich fair hair, her happy countenance and 
 elastic form , it was a vision almost too bright for this 
 
 can I?" said Lady Vargrave, with a 
 
alick; or, tiik mystkriks. 
 
 ave, with a 
 
 weary earth, — a thing of liyht and bliss, that the joyous 
 Greek miglit liavo placed among tlio forms of heaven, 
 and worshipped as an Aurora or a Hebe. 
 
 " Oil, how can you stay in-doors this beautiful even- 
 ing? Come, dearest Mrs, Leslie; come, mother, dear 
 motlier, you know you promised you would — you said 
 I was to call you, — see, it will rain no more, and the 
 sliower has left the myrtles and the violet-bank so 
 fresh." 
 
 "My dear Evelyn," said Mrs. Leslie, with a smile, 
 " I am not so young as you." 
 
 "Xo; but you are just as gay when you are in good 
 spirits, — and who can be out of spirits in such weather? 
 Let me call for your chair; let me wheel you, — I am 
 sure I can. Down, Sultan; so you have found me out, 
 have you, sir? Be quiet, sir; down! " 
 
 This last exhortation was addressed to a splendid dog 
 of the Newfoundland breed, who now contrived wholly 
 to occupy Evelyn's attention. 
 
 The two friends looked at this beautiful girl, as with 
 all the grace of youth she shared while she rebuked 
 the exuberant hilarity of her huge playmate; and tlie 
 elder of the two seemed the most to sympathize with her 
 mirth. Both gazed with fond affection upon an object 
 dear to both; but some memory or association touched 
 Lady Vargrave, and she sighed as she gazed. 
 
8 
 
 ALICE; OH, THE MVSl'EKIES. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Is stormy life preferred to tliis serene ? — Youno : Satires. 
 
 And the windows were closed in, and night had suc- 
 ceeded to oveniiig, and the little party at the cottage were 
 grouped together. Mrs. Leslie was quietly seated at 
 her tambour-fraine ; Lady Vargrave, leaning her cheek 
 on her hand, seemed absorbed in a volume before her, 
 but her eyes were not on the page; Evelyn was busily 
 employed in turning over the contents of a parcel of 
 books and music, which had just been brought from 
 the lodge, where the London coacli had deposited it. 
 
 "Oh, dear mamma! " cried Evelyn, "I am so glad; 
 there is something you will like, — some of the poetry 
 that touched you so much, set to music." 
 
 Evelyn brought the songs to her mother, who roused 
 herself from her reverie, and looked at them with in- 
 terest. 
 
 "It is very strange," said she, " that I shouii be so 
 affected by all that is written by this person; I, too," 
 she added, tenderly stroking down Evelyn's luxuriant 
 tresses, " wlio am not so fond of reading as you are! " 
 
 " You are reading one of his books now," said Evelyn, 
 glancing over the open page on the table. " Ah, that 
 beautiful passage upon ' Our First Impressions.' Yet I 
 do not like you, dear mother, to read his books; they 
 always seem to make you sad." 
 
 "There is a charm to me in their thoughts, their 
 manner of expression," said Lady Vargrave, "which 
 
 Hi: 
 
ALICK; on, THE MYSTKUIES. 
 
 9 
 
 sets me thinking, wliicli reminds n;c of — of an early 
 friend, wlu)ni I cinild fancy I hear taliung wliih^ I r(?a(l. 
 It wa.s ao from the lirst time I opened by accident a 
 hook of his, years ago." 
 
 " Who is this author that pleases you so much ? " asked 
 Mrs. Leslie, with some surprise, for Lady Vargrave 
 liad usually little pleasure in reading even the greatest 
 and most popular masterpieces of modern genius. 
 
 " Maltravers," answered Evelyn; "and I think I 
 almost share my mother's enthusiasm." 
 
 "lAFaltravers! " repeated Mrs. Leslie. "He is, per- 
 haps, a dangerous writer for one so young. At your ago, 
 dear girl, you have uatun^lly romance and feeling enough 
 of your own, without seeking tliem in Ijooks." 
 
 "But, dear madam," said Evelyn, standing up for 
 her favorite," his writings do not consist of romance and 
 feeling only; they are not exaggerated, they are so 
 simple, so truthful." 
 
 " Did you ever meet him 1 " asked Lady Vargrave. 
 
 " Yes," returned IMrs. Leslie, " once, when he was a 
 gay, fair-haired boy. His father resided in the next 
 county, and we mot at a country-house. Mr. Maltravers 
 
 himself has an estate near my daughter in B shire, 
 
 but ho does not live on it; he has been some years 
 abroad, — a strange character! " 
 
 "Why does ho write no more?" said Evelyn. "I 
 have read his works so often, and know his poetry so 
 well by heart, that I should look forward to something 
 new from him as an event." 
 
 " I have heard, my dear, that he has withdrawn much 
 from the world and its objects, — that he has lived 
 greatly in the East. The death of a lady to whom he 
 was to have been married is said to have unsettled and 
 changed his character. Since that event he has not 
 
ALICK; OR, THK MY8T 
 
 10 
 
 rotnrnofl to England. Lord Vcrgravo can tell you more 
 of him tlmn I." 
 
 " Lord Vargravo tliiiiks of notliing that is not always 
 before the world," said Evolyn. 
 
 " I am sure you wrong him," said Mrs. Leslie, look- 
 ing up and fixing hor eyes on r]v(dyn's countenance; 
 " for ijDii. are not before tlio world." 
 
 Evelyn sliglitly — very slightly — pouted her pretty 
 lip, but made no answer. She took up tl>e music, and 
 seating herself at the piano, practised the airs. Lady 
 Vargravo listened with emotion; and as Evelyn in a 
 voice exquisitely sweet, though not powerful, sang the 
 words, her mother turned away her face, and, half un- 
 consciously, a few tears stole silently down her cheek. 
 
 When P>elyn ceased, herself allccted, — for the lines 
 were impressed with a wild and mclanclioly depth of 
 feeling, — she came again to her mother's side, and 
 seeing her emotion, kissed away the tears from tlie pen- 
 sive eyes. Her own gayety left her; she drew a stool 
 to her mother's feet, and nestling to her, and clasping 
 her hand, did not leave that place till they retired to 
 rest. 
 
 And the lady blessed Evelyn, and felt that, if be- 
 ref ved , she was not alone. 
 
ALICE; Olt, THK MY8TEK1E8. 
 
 n 
 
 CHAPTER ITT. 
 
 JJnt come, tliou Oodiloss, fair and free, 
 III lieaveu yik-pt Euj)liro.syiie! 
 
 To hoar tlie lark begin his flight, 
 Ami, singing, startle the dull night. 
 
 But come, thou Goddess, sage and holy, 
 Come, divinest Melancholy ! 
 
 L' Allegro. 
 
 There held in holy passioius still, 
 Forget thyself to marble. 
 
 // Penseroso. 
 
 The early morning of early spring, — what associations 
 of frosluipss and hope in tluit single sentence! And 
 there, — a little after sunrise, — there was Evelyn, fresh 
 and hopeful as the morning itself, hounding with the 
 light stop of a light heart over the lawn. Alone, — 
 alone! no governess, with a pinched nose and a sharp 
 voice, to curb her graceful movements, and tell her how 
 young ladies ought to walk. How silently morning 
 stole over the "earth! It was as if youth had the day 
 and the v^orld to i.delf. The shutters of the cottage 
 were stiL closed, and Evelyn cast a glance upward, to 
 assure herself that her mother, who also rose betimes, 
 was not yet stirring. So she tripi^ed along, singing from 
 very glee, to secure a companion an<l let out Sultan ; and 
 a few moments afterwards tliey were scouring over the 
 grass, and descending the rude steps that wound down 
 the cliff to the smooth sea-sands. Evelyn was still a 
 
12 
 
 ALICE ; on, THE IIYSTERIES. 
 
 I'll, 
 
 ! 1 
 
 I ; I 
 ^1 
 
 cliild at heart, yet somewhat more than a child in mind. 
 In the majesty of 
 
 " That hollow, sounding, and mysterious main ; " 
 
 in the silence broken but by the murmur of the bil- 
 lows; in tlie solitude relieved but by the boats of the 
 early Jishermen, — she felt those deep and tranquilliz- 
 ing influences which belong to the religion of nature. 
 Unconsciously to herself, her sweet face grew more 
 thoughtful, and her step more slow. What a complex 
 thing is education! How many circumstances that 
 have no connection with books and tutors contribute 
 to the rearing of the human mind ! The earth and the 
 sky and the ocean were among the teachers of Evelyn 
 Cameron; and beneath her simplicity of thought was 
 daily filled, from the urns of invisible spirits, the foun- 
 tain of the poetry of feeling. 
 
 This was the hour when Evelyn most sensibly felt 
 how little our real life is chronicled by external events, 
 
 — how much we live a second and a higher life in our 
 meditations and dreams. Brought up, not more by pre- 
 cept than example, in the faith which unites creature 
 and Creator, this was the hour in whioii thought itself 
 had something of the holiness of prayer; and if (turning 
 from dreams divine to earthlier visions) this also was 
 the hour in which the heart painted and peopled its own 
 fairy-land below, — of the two ideal worlds that stretch 
 beyond the inch of time on which we stand, imagination 
 is perhaps holier than memory. 
 
 So now, as the day crept on, Evelyn returned in a 
 more sober mood, and then she joined her mother and 
 Mrs. Leslie at breakfast; and then the household cares 
 
 — such as they were — devolved upon her, heiress though 
 she was; and that duty done, once more the straw hat 
 
ALICE ; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 13 
 
 and Sultan were in requisition; and opening a little 
 gate at the back of the cottage, she took the path along 
 the village churchyard that led to the house of the old 
 curate. The burial-ground itself was surrounded and 
 shut in with a belt of trees. Save the small time- 
 discolored church, and the roofs of the cottage and tlic 
 minister's Iiouse, no building — not even a cotter's hut 
 ~ was visible there. Beneath a dark and single yew- 
 tree, in the centre of the ground, was placed a rude seat; 
 opposite to this seat was a grave, distinguished from the 
 rest by a slight palisade. As tlie young Evelyn passed 
 slowly by this spot, a glove on tlic lung damp grass be- 
 side the yew-tree cauglit her eye. She took it up and 
 sighed, —it was her mother's. She sighed; for she 
 thought of the soft melancholy on that mother's face 
 which her caresses and lier mirth never could wholly 
 chase away. She wondered why that melancholy was 
 so fixed a habit, — for the young ever wonder why the 
 experienced should be sad. 
 
 And now Evelyn had passed the churchyard, and was 
 on the green turf before the minister's quaint, old- 
 fashioned house. 
 
 The old man himself was at work in his garden ; but 
 he threw down his hoe as he saw Evelyn, and came 
 cheerfully up to greet her. It was easy to see how dear 
 she was to him. 
 
 " So you are- come for your daily lesson, my young 
 pupil ? " 
 
 " Yes; but Tasso can wait if the — " 
 
 "If the tutor wants to play truant; no, my child; 
 and, indeed, the lesson must be longer than usual to- 
 day, for I fear I shall have to leave you to-morrow for 
 some days." 
 
 "Leave us! why? Leave Brook-Green ; impossible!" 
 
14 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTEIHES. 
 
 "Not at all iiiipossiblo; for we liavo now a new vicar, 
 and I must turn courtier in my old n'^a, and ask him to 
 leave me with my flock. Ho is at Woyuioutli, and 1ms 
 written to me to visit him there. So, IMiss Evelyn, I 
 must give you a holiday task to lea;ii while I am away." 
 
 Evelyn brushed the tears from her eyes, — for when 
 the heart is full of affection, the eyes easily run over, — 
 and clung mournfully to the old man, as she gave utter- 
 ance to all her half-childish, half-womanly grief at the 
 thought of parting so soon with him. And what, too, 
 could her mother do without him; and why could he 
 not write to the vicar, instead of going to him? 
 
 The curate, who was childless and a bachelor, was 
 not insensible to the fondness of his beautiful pupil, and 
 perhaps he himself was a little more distrait than usual 
 that morning, or else Evelyn was peculiarly inatten- 
 tive ; for certain it is that she reaped very little benefit 
 from the lesson. 
 
 Yet he was an admirable teacher, that old man! 
 Aware of Evelyn's quick, susceptible, and rather fan- 
 ciful character of mind, he had sought less to curb than 
 to refine and elevate her imagination. Himself of no 
 ordinary abilities, which leisure had allowed him to 
 cultivate, his piety was too large and cheerful to ex- 
 clude literature — Heaven's best gift — from the pale of 
 religion. And under his care Evelyn's mind had been 
 duly stored with the treasures of modern genius, and 
 her judgment strengthened by the criticisms of a grace- 
 ful and generous taste. 
 
 In that sequestered hamlet, the young heiress had 
 been trained to adorn her future station ; to appreciate 
 the arts and elegancies that distinguish (no matter what 
 the rank) the refined from the low, better than if she 
 had been brought up under the hundred-handed Briareua 
 
ALICE; OH, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 15 
 
 •I 
 
 1 
 
 of fashionable education. Laily Vargrave, indeed, like 
 most persons of modest pretensions and imperfect culti- 
 vation, was rather inclined to overrate the advantages 
 to be derived from book-knowledge; and she was never 
 better pleased than when she saw Evelyn opening the 
 montldy parcel from London, and delightedly poring 
 over volumes which Lady Vargrave innocently believed 
 to be reservoirs of inexhaustible wisdom. 
 
 I?ut this day Evelyn woiild not read, and the golden 
 verses of Tasso lost their music to her car. Ho the 
 curate gave up the lecture, and placed a little programme 
 of studies. +'j be conned during his absence, in her 
 reluctant hand; and vSultan, who had been wistfully 
 lickii.g Iris paws for the last half-hour, sprang up and 
 caracoled once more into the garden; and tlie old priest 
 and the young woman left the works of man for those of 
 Nature. 
 
 "Do not fear; I will take such care of your garden 
 while you are away," said Evelyn; " and you must write 
 and let us know what day you are to come back." 
 
 " My dear Evelyn, you are born to spoil every one, — 
 from Sultan to Aubrey." 
 
 "And to be spoilt too, — don't forget that," cried 
 Evelyn, laughingly shaking back her ringlets. "And 
 now, before you go, will you tell me, as you are so wise, 
 what I can do to make — to make — my mother love 
 me?" 
 
 Evelyn's voice faltered as she spoke the last words, 
 and Aubrey looked surprised and moved. 
 
 " Your mother love you, my dear Evelyn! What do 
 you mean? Does she not love you? " 
 
 "Ah, not as I love her. She is kind and gentle, T 
 know, for she is so to all; but she does not confide in 
 me, — she does not trust me; she has some sorrow at 
 
16 
 
 alick; or, the mysteries. 
 
 heart which I am never allowed to learn and soothe. 
 Why does she avoid all mention of her early days? 
 She never talks to me as if she, too, had once a mother. 
 Why am I never tc speak of her first mp-rriage, — of my 
 fatlier? Why does she look reproachfully at me, and 
 shun me — yes, shun me, for days together — if — if I 
 attempt to draw her to the jjast ? Is there a secret 1 If 
 so, am I not old enough to know it? " 
 
 Evelyn spoke quickly and nervously, and with quiv- 
 ering lips. Aubrey took her hand, and pressing it, 
 said, after a little pause, — 
 
 "Evelyn, this is the first time you have ever thus 
 spoken to me. Has anything chanced to arouse your — 
 shall I call it curiosity, or shall I call it the mortified 
 pride of affection?" 
 
 " And you, too, are harsh; you blame me! No, it is 
 true that I have not thus spoken to you before ; but I 
 have long, long thought with grief that I was insuffi- 
 cient to my mother's happiness, — I who love her so 
 dearly. And now, since Mrs. Leslie has been here, I 
 find her conversing with this comparative stranger so 
 much more confidentially than with me : when I come 
 in unexpectedly, they cease their conference, as if T were 
 not worthy to share it; and — and oh, if I could but 
 make you imderstand that all I desire is, that my mother 
 
 should love me and know me and trust rae " 
 
 "Evelyn," said the curate, coldly, " yod love your 
 mother, and justly; a kinder and a gentler heart than 
 hers does not beat in a human breast. Her first wish 
 in life is for your happiness and welfare. You ask for 
 confidence, but Avhy not confide in her? Why not be- 
 lieve her actuated by the best and the tenderest motives? 
 Wliy not leave it to her discretion to reveal to you any 
 secret grief, if such there be, that preys upon her? Why 
 
nd soothe, 
 irly days? 
 a mother. 
 , — of my 
 t me, and 
 -if — if T 
 ecret 1 If 
 
 I'ith quiv- 
 essing it, 
 
 ever thus 
 
 3e your — 
 
 mortified 
 
 No, it is 
 tre ; but I 
 IS insuffi- 
 /e her so 
 n here, I 
 ranger so 
 n I come 
 
 if T were 
 iould but 
 ly mother 
 
 ove your 
 3art than 
 irst wish 
 I ask for 
 T not he- 
 motives? 
 you any 
 •? Why 
 
 ALICE; OK, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 17 
 
 I 
 
 -sit 
 
 add to that grief by any .seliish indulgence of ovcr- 
 susceptibility in yourself? My dear pupil, you are yet 
 almost a child ; and they who have st^rrowed may well 
 iKf rLductant to sadden with a melancholy confidence 
 iMose to whom sorrow is yet unknown. This much, at 
 :>M3t, I may tell you, — for this much she does not set-k 
 u) conceal, — that Lady Vargrave was early inured to 
 Inuls from which yuu, more happy, have been saved. 
 She speaks not to you of her relations, for she has none 
 left on earth. And after her marriage with your bene- 
 factor, Evelyn, perhaps it seemed to her a matter of 
 principle to banish all vain regret, all remembrance, if 
 possible, of an earlier tie." 
 
 "My poor, poor mother! Oh, yes, you are right; 
 forgive me. She yet mourns, perhaps, my father, whom 
 I never saw, whom I feel, as it were, tacitly forbid to 
 name; you did uot know him?" 
 
 "Him! — whom?" 
 
 " My father, my mother's first husband ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " But I am sure I could not have loved him so well 
 as my benefactor, my real and second father, who is 
 now dead and gone. Oh, how well I remember him,— 
 how fondly!" Here Evelyn stopped and burst into 
 tears. 
 
 " You do right to remember him thus; to love and 
 revere his memory: a fatlier, indeeu, he was to you. 
 Ihit now, Evelyn, my own dear child, hear me. Respect 
 tlie silent heart of your mother: let her not think that 
 lier misfortunes, whatever they may be, can cast a shadow 
 over you, — you, her last hope and blessing, Eather 
 than seek to open the old wounds, suffer them to heal, 
 as they must, beneath the influences of religion and 
 time, and wait the hour whe-i without, perhaps, too 
 
1. 1!:;' 
 
 18 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 keen a grief, your mother can go back witli you into 
 tlie past." 
 
 "I will, I will! Oil, how wicked, how ungracious 
 I have been! it was but an excess of love, believe it, 
 dear Mr. Aubrey, believe it." 
 
 " I do believe it, my poor Evelyn ; and now I know 
 that I may trust in you. Come, dry those bright eyes, 
 or they will think I have been a hard taskmaster, and 
 let us go to the cottage." 
 
 They walked slowly and silently across the humble 
 garden into the churchyard, and there, by the old yew- 
 tree, they saw Lady Vargrave. Evelyn, fearful that the 
 traces of her tears were yet visible, drew back; and 
 Aubrey, aware of what passed within her, said, — 
 
 " Shall I join your mother, and tell her of my ap- 
 proaching departure? And perhaps, in the mean while, 
 you will call at our poor pensioner's in the village. 
 Dame Newman is so anxious to see you; we will join 
 you there soon." 
 
 Evelyn smiled her thanks, and kissing her hand to 
 her mother with seeming gayety, turned back and passed 
 through the glebe into the little village. Aubrey joined 
 Lady Vargrave, and drew her arm in his. 
 
 Meanwhile Evelyn thoughtfully pursued her way. 
 Her heart was full, and of self-reproach. Her mother 
 had, then, known cause for sorrow; and perhaps her re- 
 serve was but occasioned oy her reluctance to pain her 
 child. Oh, how doubly anxious would Evelyn be here- 
 after to soothe, to comfort, to wean that dear mother 
 from the past! Though in this girl's character there 
 was something of the impetuosity and thoughtlessness 
 of her years, it was noble as well as soft; and now 
 the woman's trustfulness conquered all the woman's 
 curiosity. 
 
ALICE ; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 19 
 
 She entered the cottage of tlie okl bed-ridden crone 
 wliom Aubrey liad referred to. It was as a gleam of 
 sunsliine, that sweet comforting face; and liere, seated 
 by the old woman's side, with the Book of the Poor 
 upon her lap, Evelyn was found by Lady Vargravo. 
 It was curious to observe the different impressions upon 
 the cottagers made by the mother and daughter. Both 
 were beloved with almost equal enthusiasm; but with 
 the first the poor felt more at home. They could talk 
 to her more at ease : she understood them so much more 
 quickly; they had no need to beat about the bush to 
 tell the little peevish complaints that they were half 
 ashamed to utter to Evelyn. What seemed so light to 
 tlie young, cheerful beauty, the mother listened to with 
 so grave and sweet a patience. When all went right, 
 they rejoiced to see Evelyn; but in their little difficul- 
 ties and sorrows, nobody was like " my good lady ! " 
 
 So Dame Newman, the moment she saw the pale 
 countenance and graceful shape of Lady Vargrave at the 
 threshold, uttered an exclamation of delight. Now she 
 could let out all that she did not like to trouble the 
 young lady with; now she could complain of east winds, 
 and rheumatiz, and the parish officers, and the bad tea 
 they sold poor people at Mr. Hart's shop, and the un- 
 grateful grandson who was so well to do, and who forgot 
 he had a grandmother alive. 
 
20 
 
 ALICE ; OK, TIIK MYSTERIES. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 r t 
 
 ^i; 
 
 Towards the end of the week we received a card from the town 
 ladies. — Vicar of Wakejietd. 
 
 The curate was gone, and the lessons suspended; other- 
 wise — as like each to each as sunshine or cloud per- 
 mitted — day followed day in the calm retreat of Brook- 
 Green; when, one morning, Mrs. Leslie, with a letter 
 in her hand, sought Lady Vargrave, who was busied in 
 tending the flowers of a small conservatory which she 
 had added to the cottage, when, from various motives, 
 and one in especial powerful and mysterious, she ex- 
 changed for so sequestered a home the luxurious villa 
 bequeathed to her by her husband. 
 
 To flowers — those charming children of Nature, in 
 which our age can take the same tranquil pleasure as 
 our youth — Lady Vargrave devoted much of her monoto- 
 nous and uncheck:red time. She seemed to love them 
 almost as living things; and her memory associated 
 them with hours as bright and as fleeting as themselves. 
 
 "My dear friend," said Mrs. Leslie, " I have news for 
 you. My daughter, Mrs. Merton, who has been in Corn- 
 wall on a visit to her husband's mother, writes me word 
 that she will visit us on her road home to the Rectory 
 
 in B shire. She will not put you much out of the 
 
 way," added Mrs. Leslie, smiling; "for Mr. Merton 
 will not accompany her: she only brings her daugliter 
 Caroline, a lively, handsome, intelligent girl, who will 
 be enchanted with Evelyn. All you will regret is, that 
 ehe comes to terminate my visit, and take me away with 
 
ALICK; OK, THE .MV.SI'i:uii;.s. 21 
 
 l^er If you can forgive that offence, you will havo 
 nothing else to pardon." 
 
 Lady Vargravo ivpliod with lior usual simple kind- 
 ness; but she was evidently nervous at the visit of a 
 stranger (for she had never yet seen Mrs. Merton), and 
 still more distressed at the thought of losing Mrs. Leslie 
 a week or two sooner than had been anticipated. How- 
 ever, Mrs. Leslie hastened to reassure her. Mrs Merton 
 was so quiet and good-natured, the wife of a countrv 
 clergyman with simple tastes; and. after all, Mrs 
 Leslie s visit might last as long, if Lady Vargrave 
 would be contented to extend her hospitality to Mrs 
 Merton and Caroline. 
 
 When the visit was announced to Evelyn, her young 
 heart was susceptible only of pleasure and curiosity 
 She had no friend of her own age; she was sure she 
 should like the grandchild of her dear Mrs. Leslie 
 
 Evelyn, wlio had learned betimes, from the affec- 
 tionate solicitude of her nature, to relieve her m.ither 
 of such few domestic cares as a home so quiet, with an 
 establishment so regular, could afford, gayly busied her- 
 self in a thousand little preparations. She filled the 
 rooms of the visitors with flowers (not dreaming that 
 any one could fancy them unwholesome), and spread 
 he tables with her own favorite books, and had the 
 little cottage piano in her own dressing-room removed 
 into Caroline's, -Caroline must be fond of music: she 
 had some doubts of transferring a cage with two canaries 
 into Caroline's room also, but when she approached the 
 cage with that intention, the birds chirped so merrilv 
 and seemed so glad to see her, and so expectant of sugar' 
 that her heart smote her for her meditated desertion and 
 ingratitude. No, she could not give up the canaries; 
 but the glass bowl with the gold-fish, -oh, that would 
 
')9 
 
 ALICK ; OK, TIIK MYSTKUIES. 
 
 look so pretty on its stand just by tlio casement ; and 
 the iish — dull tilings! — would not miss lu-r. 
 
 The morning, the noon, tho prohalile hour of tho 
 important arrival came at last; and niU'v having three 
 times within tho last half-hour visited the rooms, and 
 settled and unsettled, and settled again everything he- 
 fore arranged, Evelyn retired to her own room to consult 
 her wardrobe, and jNIargarot, — once her nurse, now her 
 Abigail. Alas! the wardrobe of the destined Lady Var- 
 grave — the betrothed of a rising statesman, a new and 
 iu)w an ostentatious peer; the heiress of the wealthy 
 Templeton — was one that many a tradesman's daughter 
 would have disdained. Evelyn visited so little; the 
 clergyman of the place, and two old maids who lived 
 most respectably on a hundred and eighty pounds a year, 
 in a cottage, with one maidservant, two cats, and a 
 footboy, bounded the circle of her acquaintance. Her 
 mother was so indifferent to dress ; she herself had found 
 so many other ways of spending money, — but Evelyn 
 was not now more philosophical than others of her age. 
 She turned from muslin to muslin — from the colored 
 to the white, from the white to the colored — with pretty 
 anxiety and sorrowful suspense. At last she decided on 
 the newest, and when it was on, and the single rose set 
 in the lustrous and beautiful hair, Carson herself could 
 not have added a charm. Happy age ! Who wants the 
 arts of the milliner at seventeen? 
 
 " And here, miss, — here 's the fine necklace that Lord 
 Vargrave brought down when my lord came last; it will 
 look so grand! " 
 
 The emeralds glittered in their case; Evelyn looked 
 at them irresolutely; then, as she looked, a shade came 
 over her forehead, and she sighed, and closed the lid. 
 
 " No, Margaret, I do not want it; take it away." 
 
ALICE ; OK, THK MYSTERIES. 
 
 23 
 
 "Oh, dear, miss! what wouM my lord say if he were 
 down? And thoy aro so beautiful! they will look so 
 fine ! Deary mo, how they sparkle ! But you will wear 
 mr.ch finer when yon are my lady." 
 
 " I hear mamma's bell; go, Margaret, she wants you," 
 
 Left alone, the young beauty sank down abstractedly, 
 and though the looking-glass was opposite, it did not 
 ^-rcst her eye; she forgot her wardrobe, her muslin 
 dress, her fears, and her guests. 
 
 "Ah," she thought, "what a weight of dread I feel 
 here when I think of Lord Vargrave and this fatal 
 engagement; and every day I feel it more and more. 
 To leave my dear, dear mother, the dear cottage, — oh, 
 I never can! I used to like him when I was a child; 
 now I shudder at his name. "Why is this? He is kind,' 
 — b3 condescends to seek to please. It was the wish of 
 ray poor father, — for father he really was to me; and 
 yet — oh that he had left me poor and free ! " 
 
 At this part of Evelyn's meditation the unusual sound 
 of wheels was heai J on the gravel ; she started up, wiped 
 the tears from her eyes, and hurried down to welcome 
 the expected guests. 
 
24 
 
 MJCE; UK, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Tell me, Sophy, my dear, what do you think of our new 
 visitors 1 — Vicar of Wakejield. 
 
 Mrs. Merton and her daughter were already in the 
 middle drawing-room, seated on either side of Mrs. Les- 
 lie: the former a woman of quiet and pleasing exterior, 
 her face still handsome, and if not intelligent, at least 
 expressive of sober good-nature and habitual content; 
 the latter a fine dark-eyed girl, of decided countenance, 
 and what is termed a showy style of beauty, — tall, 
 self-possessed, and dressed plainly indeed, but after the 
 approved fasliion. The rich bonnet of the large shape 
 then worn; the Chantilly veil; the gay French Cache- 
 mire; the full sleeves, at that time the unnatural rage; 
 the expensive yet unassuming robe de sole; the perfect 
 chaussure ; the air of society ; the easy manner ; the 
 tranquil but scrutinizing gaze, — all startled, discom- 
 posed, and half friglitenod Evelyn. 
 
 Miss Merton herself, if more at her ease, was equally 
 surprised by the beauty and luiconscious grace of the 
 young fairy before her, and rose to greet her Avitb a 
 well-bred cordiality which at once made a conquest of 
 Evelyn's heart. 
 
 Mrs. Merton kissed her cheek, and smiled kindly on 
 her, but said little. It was easy to see that she was a 
 less conversable and more homely person than Caroline. 
 
 When Evelyn conducted them to their rooms, tlie 
 mother and daughter detected at a glance the care that 
 had provided for their comforts; and something eager 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTKKIKS. 
 
 25 
 
 and expectant in Ev.>lyi,'.s eyea taught the good-naturo 
 of the one and the good-brcodiu},' of the other to reward 
 their young hostess l,y various little exclamations of 
 pleasure and aatisfaction. 
 
 " Dear, how nice! What a pretty writing-desk! " said 
 one. « And the pretty gold-H-sh ! " said the other. " And 
 the piano, too, so well placed; " and Caroline's fair fin- 
 gers ran rapidly over the keys. Evelyn retire.l, covered 
 with smiles and blushes. And then JMrs. Merton per- 
 mitted herself to say to the well-dressed Abigail, — 
 
 "Do take away those flowers: they make me quite 
 faint. " 
 
 And how low the room is, — so confined ! " said 
 Caroline, when the lady's lady withdrew with tlie con- 
 demned flowers. "And I see no Psyche, -however, 
 the poor people have done tlieir best." 
 
 '|Sweet person. Lady Vargrave," said Mrs. Merton, 
 — "so interesting, so beautiful! — and huw youthful in 
 appearance ! " 
 
 " No tournure, — not much the manner of the world " 
 said Caroline. ' 
 
 " No; but something better." 
 
 " Hem I " said Caroline. " The girl is very pretty, 
 though too small." 
 
 " Such a smile, such eyes, — she is irresistible ! And 
 what a fortune ! — she will be a charming friend for 
 you, Caroline." 
 
 " Yes, she may be useful, if she marry Lord Vargrave; 
 or, indeed, if she make any brilliant match. What 
 sort of a man is Lord Vargrave 1 " 
 
 " I never saw him; they say, most fascinating." 
 
 "Well, she is very liappy," said Caroline, with a 
 sigh. 
 
26 
 
 ALICE; OK, THE MYiSTEHIES. 
 
 i Ifen 
 
 l> M 
 
 i''i 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Two lovely damsels cheer my lonely walk. — Lamb ; Album Verses. 
 
 After dinner, there was still light enough for the 
 young people to stroll through the garden. Mrs. Mer- 
 ton, who was afraid of the damp, preferred staying 
 within; and she was so quiet, and made herself so 
 much at home, that Lady Vargrave, to use Mrs. Leslie's 
 phrase, was not the least " put out " by her; besides, 
 she talked of Evelyn, and that was a theme very dear to 
 Lady Vargrave, who was both fond and proud of 
 Evelyn. 
 
 "This is very pretty indeed! — the view of the sea 
 quite lovely ! " said Caroline. " You draw 1 " 
 "Yes, a little." 
 " From nature ? " 
 "Oh, yes!" 
 
 " What, in Indian ink?" 
 " Yes; and water-colors." 
 
 " Oh! why, who could have taught you in this little 
 village, or, indeed, in this most primitive county? " 
 
 " We did not come to Brook-Green till I was nearly 
 fifteen. My dear mother, though very anxious to leave 
 our villa at Fulham, would not do so, on my account, 
 while masters could be of service to me ; and as I knew 
 she had set her heart on this place, I worked doubly 
 hard." 
 
 " Then she knew this place before ? " 
 "Yes; she had been here many years ago, and took 
 the place after my poor father's death (I always call 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 27 
 
 Ibutn Verses. 
 
 the late Lord Vargrave my father). She used to come 
 here regularly once a year without me; and when she 
 returned, I thought her even more melancholy than 
 before. 
 
 " What makes the charm of the place to Lady Var- 
 grave? " asked Caroline, with some interest. 
 
 " I don't know, unless it be its extreme quiet, or 
 some early association. " 
 
 " And who is your nearest neighbor 1 " 
 
 "Mr. Aubrey, the curate. It is so unlucky, he is 
 gone from home for a short time. You can't think how 
 kind and pleasant he is: the most amiable old man in 
 the world, —just such a man as Bernardin St. Pierre 
 would have loved to describe. " 
 
 "Agreeable, no doubt, but dull, -good curates gen- 
 erallyare." ° 
 
 !i ^""iV' r "°* *^'^ ^'^''^ cheerful, even to playfulness, 
 and full of information. He has been so good to me 
 about books; indeed, I have learned a great deal from 
 him. ' 
 
 1^1 dare say he is an admirable judge of sermons." 
 
 "But Mr. Aubrey is not severe," persisted Evelyn 
 earnestly; "he is very fond of Italian literature, foi 
 instance: we are reading Tasso together." 
 
 "Oh! pity he is old, — I think you said he was old. 
 rerhaps there is a son, the image of the sire? " 
 
 "Oh, no," said Evelyn, laughing innocently; "Mr. 
 Aubrey never married. " 
 
 " And where does the old gentleman live 1 " 
 
 "Come a little this way, -there, you can just see 
 the root of his house, close by the church." 
 
 "I see; it is tant soit peu triste to have the church 
 80 near you." 
 
 "i>o you think so? Ah! but you have not seen it: 
 
28 
 
 ALICE; OH, TIIK MYSTElilES. 
 
 it is the prettiest church in the county; and the little 
 burial -ground, — so quiet, so shut in; I feel better every 
 time I pass it. Some places breathe of religion." 
 
 " You are poetical, my dear little friend." 
 
 Evelyn, who had poetry in her nature, — and there- 
 fore sometimes it broke out in her simple language, — 
 colored and felt half ashamed. 
 
 "It is a favorite walk with my mother," said she, 
 apologetically ; " she often spends hours there alone ; 
 and so perhaps I think it a prettier spot than others 
 may. It does not seem to mo to have anything of gloom 
 in it; when I die, I should like m be buried there." 
 
 Caroline laughed slightly. " That is a strange wish ; 
 but perhaps you have been crossed in love? " 
 
 "I! oh, 3'ou are laughing at me! " 
 
 " You do not remember Mr. Cameron , your real 
 father, I suppose ? " 
 
 " No ; I believe he died before I was born. " 
 
 " Cameron is a Scotch name : to what tribe of Cara- 
 erons do you belong? " 
 
 "I don't know," said Evelyn, rather embarrassed; 
 " indeed, I know nothing of my father's or mother's 
 family. It is very odd, but I don't think we have any 
 relations. You know, when I am of age, that I am to 
 take the name of Templeton." 
 
 " Ah ! the name goes wivh the fortune ; I understand. 
 Dear Evelyn, how rich you will be! I do so wish I 
 were rich! " 
 
 "And I that I were poor," said Evelyn, with an 
 altered tone and expression of countenance. 
 
 " Strange girl ! what can you mean? " 
 
 Evelyn said nothing, and Caroline examined her 
 curiously. 
 
 "These notions come from living so much out of the 
 
ALICE; OR, TIIK MYSTERIKS. 
 
 29 
 
 world, ray dear Evelyn. How you must lonR to see 
 more of life ! " 
 
 "I! not in the least. I should never like to leave 
 this place, — I could live and die here." 
 
 " You will think otherwise when you are Lady Var- 
 grave. Why do you look so gravel Do you not love 
 Lord Vargrave ? " 
 
 " What a question! " said Evelyn, turning away her 
 head, and forcing a laugh. 
 
 " It is no matter whether you do or not: it is a bril- 
 liant position. He has rank, reputation , high office : all 
 he wants is money, and that you will give him. Alas! 
 I have no prospect so bright. I have no fortune, and I 
 fear my face will never buy a title, an opera-box, and a 
 house in Grosvenor Square. I wish I were the future 
 Lady Vargrave." 
 
 " I am sure I wish you were," said Evelyn, with great 
 rniiveU; "you would suit Lord Vargrave better than I 
 should. " 
 
 Caroline laughed. 
 
 "AVhydoyou think so?" 
 
 " Oh, his way of thinking is like yours; he never says 
 anything T can sympathize with." 
 
 "A pretty compliment to me! Depend upon it, my 
 dear, you will sympathize with me when you have seen 
 as much of the worF.. But Lord Vargrave, - is he too 
 old ? " 
 
 "No, I don't think of his age; and indeed he looks 
 younger than he is. " 
 " Is he handsome \ " 
 
 "He is what may be called handsome, — you would 
 think so." 
 
 "Well, if he comes here, I will do my best to win 
 him from you; so look to yourself." 
 
30 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 
 " Oh, I should be so grateful ; I should like him so 
 much, if he would fall in love with you ! " 
 
 " I fear there is no chance of that. " 
 
 " But how," daid Evelyn, hesitatingly, after a pause, 
 
 " how is it that you have seen so much more of the 
 
 world than T have ? I thought Mr. Merton lived a great 
 deal in the country." 
 
 " Yes, but my uncle, Sir John Merton, is memlar for 
 the county ; my grandmother, on my father's side, — 
 L'iy Elizabeth, who has Tregony Castle (which we 
 havo just left) for her jointure-house, — goes to town 
 almost every season, and I have spent three seasons with 
 her. She is a charming old woman, — quite the grande 
 dame. I am sorry to say she remains in Cornwall this 
 year ; she has not been very well ; the physicians forbid 
 late nours and London : but even in the country we are 
 very gay. My uncle lives near us, and though a wid- 
 ower, has his house full when down at Merton Park; 
 and papa, too, is rich, very hospitable, and popular, 
 and will, I hope, be a bishop one of these days, — not 
 at all like a mere country parson; and so, somehow or 
 other, I have learned to be ambitions, — we are an am- 
 bitious family on papa's side. But, alas! I have not 
 your cards to play. Young, beautiful, and an heiress ! 
 Ah, what prospects! You should make your mamma 
 take you to town. " 
 
 "To town! she would be wretched at the very idea. 
 Oh, you don't know us. " 
 
 " I can't help fancying, Miss Evelyn," said Caroline, 
 archly, " that you are not so blind to Lord Vargrave's 
 perfections, and so indifferent to London, only from the 
 pretty, innocent way of thinking, that so prettily and 
 innocently you express. I daresay, if the truth were 
 known, there is some handsome young rector, besides 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 81 
 
 ike him so 
 
 the old curate, who plays the flute, and preaches senti- 
 mental sermons in white kid gloves." 
 
 Evelyn laughed merrily, -so merrily that Caroline's 
 suspicions vanished. They continued to walk and talk 
 thus till the night came on, and then they went ir • 
 and Evelyn showed Caroline her drawings, which as- 
 tonished that young lady, who was a good judge of 
 accomplishments. Evelyn's performance on the piano 
 astonished her yet more; but Caroline consoled herself 
 on this point, for her voice was more powerful, and she 
 sang French songs with much more spirit. Caroline 
 showed talent in all she undertook; but Evelyn, despite 
 her simplicity, had genius, though as yet scarcely de- 
 veloped, — for she had quickness, emotion, susceptibility 
 imagination. And the difference between talent and 
 genius lies rather in the heart than the head. 
 
82 
 
 ALICE; OK, THE MV6TEK1EB. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Dost thou feel 
 The solemu whispering influence of the scene 
 Oppressing thy young heart, that thou dost draw 
 More closely to my side ^ 
 
 F. Hbmans : Wood Walk and Hymn, 
 
 Caroline and Evelyn, as was natural, became great 
 friends. They were not kindred to each other in dispo- 
 sition, but they were thrown together, and friendship 
 thus forced upon both. Unsuspecting and sanguine, it 
 was natural to Evelyn to admire; and Caroline was, to 
 her inexperience, a brilliant and imposing novelty. 
 Sometimes Miss Merton's worldliness of thought shocked 
 Evelyn; but then Caroline had a way with her as if 
 she were not in earnest, — as if she were merely indulg- 
 ing an inclination towards irony ; nor was she without 
 a certain vein of sentiment that persons a little hack- 
 neyed in the world, and young ladies a little disap- 
 pointed that they are not wives instead of maids, easily 
 acquire. Trite as this vein of sentiment was, poor 
 Evelyn thought it beautiful and most feeling. Then, 
 Caroline was clever, entertaining, cordial, with all that 
 superficial superiority that a girl of twenty-three who 
 knows London readily exercises over a country girl of 
 seventeen. On the other hand, Caroline was kind and 
 affectionate towards her. The clergyman's daughter felt 
 that she could not be always i^uperior, even in fashion, 
 to the wealthy heiress. 
 
Iraw 
 
 k and Hymn, 
 
 came great 
 }v in dispo- 
 
 frienibhip 
 anguine, it 
 ine was, to 
 y novelty. 
 ;lit shocked 
 1 her as if 
 ely indulg- 
 ihe without 
 ittlc hack- 
 ttle disap- 
 aids, easily 
 
 was, poor 
 ig. Then, 
 th all that 
 -three who 
 itry girl of 
 s kind and 
 lughter felt 
 in fashion, 
 
 4 
 t 
 
 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 33 
 
 One evening, as Mrs. Leslie and Mrs. Merton sat under 
 the veranda of the cottage, without their hostess, who 
 had gone alone into the village, and the young ladies 
 were confidentially conversing on the lawn, Mrs. Leslie 
 said rather abruptly, " Is not Evelyn a delightful crea- 
 ture ? How unconscious of her beauty ; how simple, and 
 yet so naturally gifted!" 
 
 "I have never seen one who interested me more " 
 said Mrs. Merton, settling her pelerhie : "she is ei- 
 treraely pretty." 
 
 "I am so anxious about Ker," resumed Mrs. Leslie 
 thoughtfully. "You know the wish of the late Lord 
 \argrave that she should marry his nepliew, the present 
 lord, when she reaches tlie age of eighteen. She only 
 wants nine or ten months of that time; slie has seen 
 nothing of the world; she is not fit to decide for her- 
 self; and Lady Vargrave, the best of human creatures, 
 is still herself almost too inexperienced in the world to 
 be a guide for one so young, placed in such peculiar cir- 
 cumstances, and of prospects so brilliant. Lady Var- 
 grave, at heart, is a child still, and will be so even when 
 as old as I am. " 
 
 ^ "It is very true," said Mrs. Merton. "Don't you 
 fear that the girls will catch cold ? The dew is falling, 
 and the grass must be wet. " 
 
 "I have thought," continued Mrs. Leslie, without 
 heeding the latter part of IMrs. Moron's speech, " tliat 
 It would be a kind thing to invite Evelyn to stay 
 with you a few months at the Eectory. To be sure, 
 it is not like London; but you see a great deal of the 
 "orld; the society at your house is well selected, and 
 at times even brniiant; she will meet young people of 
 lier own age, and young people fashion and^ form each 
 other. " 
 
34 
 
 ALICE ; OR, THR MYSTERIES. 
 
 m 
 
 " I was thinking, myself, that should like to invite 
 her," said Mrs. Merton; " I will consult Caroline," 
 
 "Caroline, I am sure, would be delighted; the diffi- 
 culty lies rather in Evelyn herself." 
 
 " You surprise me ! she must be moped to death here. " 
 
 " But will she leave her mother? " 
 
 "Why, Caroline often leaves me," said Mrs. Merton. 
 
 Mrs. Leslie was silent, and Evelyn and her new friend 
 now joined the mother and daughter. 
 
 " I have been trying to persuade Evelyn to pay us a 
 little visit," said Caroline; " she could accompany us so 
 nicely; and if she is still strange with us, dear grand- 
 mamma goes coo, — I am sure we can make her at 
 home." 
 
 "How odd! " said Mrs. Merton; " we were just say- 
 ing the same thing. My dear Miss Cameron, we should 
 be so happy to have you. " 
 
 " And I should be so happy to go, if mamma would 
 but go too. " 
 
 As she spoke, the moon, just risen, showed the form 
 of Lady Vargrave slowly approaching the house. By 
 the light, her features seemed more pale than usual ; and 
 her slight and delicate form, with its gliding motion 
 and noiseless step, had in it something almost ethereal 
 and unearthly. 
 
 Evelyn turned and saw her, and her heart smote her. 
 Her mother, — so wedded to the dear cottage; and had 
 this gay stranger rendered that dear cottage less attractive , 
 — she who had said she could live and die in its humble 
 precincts? Abruptly she left her new friend, hastened 
 to her mother, and threw her arms fondly round her. 
 
 " You are pale ; you have over-fatigued yourself. 
 Where have you been 1 Why did you not take me with 
 you? " 
 
ieath here." 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 35 
 
 Lady Vargrave pressed Evelyn's hand affectionately. 
 
 You care for me too much." said she. " I am but a 
 
 dull companion for you; I was so glad to see you happy 
 
 with one better suited to your gay spirits. What can 
 
 we do when she leaves us ? " 
 
 "Ah ! I want no companion but my own, own mother. 
 And have I not Sultan too?" added Evelyn, smiling 
 away the tear that had started to her eyes 
 
 mma virould 
 
36 
 
 ALICE : OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 ! f' 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Friend after friend departs ; 
 
 Who hath not lost a friend ? 
 There is no union here of hearts 
 
 That finds not here au end. 
 
 J. Montgomery. 
 
 That night Mrs. Leslie sought Lady Vargrave in her 
 own room. As she entered gently, she observed that, 
 late as the hour was. Lady Vargrave was stationed by 
 the open window, and seemed intently gazing on the 
 scene below. Mrs. Leslie reached lier side unperceived. 
 The moonlight was exceedingly bright, and just beyond 
 the garden, from which it was separated but by a slight 
 fence, lay the solitary churchyard of the hamlet, with 
 the slender spire of the holy edifice rising high and 
 tapering into the shining air. It was a calm and tran- 
 quillizing scene; and so intent was Lady Vargrave's 
 abstracted gaze that Mrs. Leslie was unwilling to dis- 
 turb her reverie. 
 
 At length Lady Vargrave turned ; and there was that 
 patient and pathetic resignation written in her coun- 
 tenance which belongs to those whom the Avorld can 
 deceive no more, and who have fixed their hearts in the 
 life beyond. 
 
 Mrs. Leslie, whatever she thought or felt, said noth- 
 ing, except in kindly remonstrance on the indiscretion 
 of braving the night air. The window was closed ; they 
 sat down to confer. 
 
 Mrs. Leslie repeated the invitation given to Evelyn, 
 and urged the advisability of accepting it. " It is cruel 
 
GOMERT. 
 
 ALICE ; OR, THR MYSTERIES. 37 
 
 fo separate you," said sbo; " I fed it acutely. Why 
 not, then come with Evelyn? You .hake your head 
 -why always avoid society? So young yet. you giv^ 
 yourself too much to the past!" . J- " fcivo 
 
 Lady Vargrave rose, and walked to a cabinet at the 
 od of the room; she unlocked it, and beckoned to Mrs 
 Leslie to approach. In a drawer lay carefully folded 
 articles of female dress, rude, homely, ragged. - the 
 dress of a peasant girl. 
 
 "Do these remind you of your first charity to me?" 
 she said touclungly: " they t.ll me that I have nothing 
 
 JLvelyn herself, should move." 
 
 " Too tender conscience ! Your errors were but those 
 of circumstance, of youtli; hov have they been re- 
 deemed! None even suspect them. Your past his- 
 tory is known but to the good old Aubrey and myself. 
 ^0 breath even of rumor, tarnishes the name of Lady 
 V argrave. " •' 
 
 "Mrs. Leslie," said Lady Vargrave, reclosing the 
 cabinet, ami again seating herself, "my world lies 
 around me - 1 cannot quit it. If I were of use to 
 Evelyn, then indeed I would sacrifice, brave all; but 
 I only cloud her spirits. I have no advice to give her 
 -no instruction to bestow. When she was a child. I 
 could watch over her; when she was sick, I could nuL 
 her but now »he requires an adviser, a guide; and I 
 feel too sensibly that this task is beyond my powers. 
 J, a guide to youth and innocence, — // No T b«v« 
 nothing to offer her -dear child! -but my I'ove and 
 my prayers. Let your da,igl,ter take her, then. - watch 
 over her. guide, advise her. For me, - unicind, un 
 grateful as it may seem, - were she but happy, I ;ould 
 well bear to be alone!" 
 
38 
 
 ALICE ; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 " But she, — how will sho, who lovos you so, submit 
 to thia separation ? " 
 
 "It will not be long; and," added Lady Vargrave, 
 with a serious yet sweet smile, " sho had better bo pre- 
 pared for that separation which must come at last. As 
 year by year I outlive my last hope, — that of once more 
 beholding /it w, , — I feel that life becomes feobler and 
 feebler, and I look more on that quiet churchyard as 
 a home to which I am soon returning. At all events, 
 Evelyn will be called upon to form new ties, that must 
 estrange her from me ; let her wean herseif from one so 
 useless to her, to all the world, — now, and by degrees." 
 
 " Speak not thus," said Mrs. Leslie, strongly affected; 
 "you have many years of happiness yet in store for you: 
 the more you recede from youth, the fairer life will 
 become to you." 
 
 "God is good to me," said the lady, raising her 
 meek eyes; "and I have already found it so, — I am 
 contented. " 
 
t 80, Bubmit 
 
 ALICK : OK. THE MVHTKKIE8. 
 
 39 
 
 ' Vargrave, 
 tter be pro- 
 it lust. As 
 f OMco more 
 feebler and 
 irchyard as 
 all events, 
 , that must 
 rom one so 
 y degrees. " 
 ly affected ; 
 re for you : 
 r life will 
 
 aising her 
 10, — -I am 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The greater part of them seemed to be charmed with hi. 
 presence. - Mackkx^,k : Tke Man o/M^ HvS. 
 
 It was with tl.e greatest difficulty that Evelyn could at 
 
 as be persuaded to consent to the separation fro.n he 
 
 ".other: she wept bitterly at the thought. But Lady 
 
 was of that soft, imploring character which Evelvn 
 never could resist. The visit was to last some molt Is 
 >t IS true; but she would return to the cottage h^ 
 woud escape, too.-and this, perhaps, uncon ' ' 1' 
 reconciled her more than aught else, - the ponodica^ 
 visit of Lord Vargravo. At the end of July, Vh n the 
 parliamentary session, at that unreformed ' .y uTuaHy 
 expired he always came to Brook-Green for Zni^ 
 His last visits had been most unwelcome „ Evelyn ani 
 his next visit she dreaded more than sh. had any'o'f the 
 r.u.r ones. It is strange, the repugnance with wh ch 
 he regarded the suit of her affianced.Lshe whose heart 
 vas yet virgin, who had never seen any one wL Tn 
 arm manner, and powers to please, could be compir S 
 to the gay Lo.<d Vargrave. And yet a sense of honor 
 f wha was due to her dead benefactor, h L more 
 than father -all combated that repugnance, andle 
 
 the Z 7^:^ T'' '' P"^^"«' uncalculating a to 
 
 the future In the happy elasticity of her spirits, and 
 with a carelessness almost approaching to levify wiich 
 to say tnith, was natural to her, she dll not o"e2i 
 the solemn engagement that must soon be ratmeTo 
 
40 
 
 ALICE ; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 annulled; but when that thought did occur, it saddened 
 her for hours, and left her listless and despondent. The 
 visit to Mrs. Merton was, then, finally arranged, the day 
 of departure fixed, when, one morning, came the fol- 
 lowing letter from ord Vargrave himself: — 
 
 TO THE LADY VARGRAVE, ETC., ETC. 
 
 Mt dear Friend, — I find that we have a week's holiday 
 in our do-nothing Chamber, and the weather is so delightful 
 that I long to share its enjoyment with those I love best. 
 You will, therefore, see me ahnost as soon as you receive this ; 
 that is, I shall be with you at dinner on the same day. What 
 can I say to Evelyn ? Will you, dearest Lady Vargrave, make 
 her accept all the homage which, when uttered by me, she 
 seems half inclined to reject? In haste, most affectionately 
 yours, 
 
 Vargrave. 
 
 Hauiltom Place, April 30, 18 — . 
 
 This letter was by no means welcome, either to Mrs. 
 Leslie or to Evelyn. The former feared that Lord Var- 
 grave would disapprove of a visit, the real objects of 
 which could scarcely be owned to him. The latter was 
 reminded of all she desired to forget. But Lady Var- 
 grave herself rather rejoiced at the thought of Lura- 
 ley's arrival. Hitherto, in the spirit of her passive 
 and gentle character, she had taken the engagement 
 between Evelyn and Lord Vargrave almost as a matter . 
 of course. The will and wish of her late husband oper- 
 ated most powerfully on her mind ; and while Evelyn 
 was yet in childhood, Lumley's visits had ever been 
 acceptable, and the playful girl liked the gay and good- 
 humored lord, who brought her all sorts of presents, 
 and appeared as fond of dogs as herself. But Evelyn's 
 recent change of manner, her frequent fits of dejection 
 
 11 
 
ALICE ; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 41 
 
 and thought. _ once pointed out to Lady Vargrave by 
 Mrs. Leshe aroused all the affectionate and maternal 
 anxiety of the former. She was resolved to wat h to 
 
 \ argrave but, as far as she could, the manner and dis- 
 
 t'::: 'r hi?"" ''"^^^ ^^^ '-'^ how sim' i 
 
 tut was the happiness of a whole life; and she had 
 that romance of heart, learned from nature not ir wt 
 which made her believe that there could b no h ppJnei 
 in a marriage without love. nappmess 
 
 The whole family party were on the lawn, when an 
 
 rJe TZl^V '^ "" ''''''''' *^^ travelling 'car- 
 nage of Lord Vargrave was whirled along the narrow 
 sweep that conducted from the lodge to the louse Var 
 grave, as he saw the party, kissed his hand from the 
 window, and leaping from the carriage when it stoDned 
 at the porch, hastened to meet his hostess ^^"^ 
 
 My dear Lady Vargrave. I am so glad to see vou 
 
 sh^Th?"' ^'""^"^'^^ andEvefyn?-oh the; 
 she IS. The dear coquette, how lovely she is! h,^w she 
 has improved! But who," sinking his v.ice -. '^whn 
 are those ladies?" ^ ^^ V7ice, — who 
 
 "Guests of ours: Mrs. Leslie, whom you have often 
 heard us speak of., but never met-" 
 " Yes, — and the others ? " 
 I' Her daughter and grandchild." 
 "I shall be delighted to know them " 
 A more popular manner than Lord Vargrave's it is 
 
 m,har courtesy, apparently so inartificial and aplaLt 
 almost to a boyish bluntnoss of goort-humor wli 
 
 .msutible in the rising statesman aL faZZuoZtZ: 
 
42 
 
 ALICE ; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 Mrs. Merton was enchanted with him; Caroline 
 thought him, at the first glance, the most fascinating 
 person she had ever seen; even Mrs. Leslie, more grave, 
 cautious, and penetrating, was almost equally pleased 
 with the first impression; and it was not till, in his 
 occasional silence, his features settled into their natural 
 expression, that she fancied she detected, in the quick, 
 suspicious eye and the close compression of the lips, 
 the tokens of that wily, astute, and worldly character, 
 which, in proportion as he had risen ir his career, even 
 his own party reluctantly and mysteriously assigned to 
 one of their most prominent leaders. 
 
 When Vargrave took Evelyn's hand, and raised it 
 with meaning gallantry to his lips, the girl first blushed 
 deeply, and then turned pale as death; n>r did the color 
 thus chased away soon return to the transparent cheek. 
 Not noticing signs which might bear a twofold inter- 
 pretation, Lumley, who seemed in high spirits, rattled 
 away on a thousand matters, — praising the view, the 
 weather, the journey; throwing out a joke here, and 
 a compliment there, and completing his conquest over 
 Mrs. Merton and Caroline. 
 
 " You have left London in the very height of its 
 gayety. Lord Vargrave," said Caroline, as they sat con- 
 versing after dinner. 
 
 " True, Miss Merton; but the country is in the height 
 of its gayety too." 
 
 " Are you so fond of the country, then ? " 
 
 " By fits and starts : my passion for it comes in with 
 the early strawberries, and goes out with the hautboys, 
 — I lead so artificial a life ; but then I hope it is a use- 
 ful one. I want nothing but a home to make it a happy 
 one." 
 
 " What is the latest news ? Dear London ! I -im so 
 
ALICE; OK, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 43 
 
 sorry grandmamma, Lady Elizabeth, is not going there 
 this year; so I am compelled to rusticate. Is Lady 
 
 Jane D to be married at last?" 
 
 " Commend me to a young lady's idea of news — 
 
 always marriage! Lady Jane D ! Yes ; she is to be 
 
 marriea, as you say, — at last ! While she was a beauty 
 our cold sex were shy of her; but she has now faded 
 into plainness, — the proper color for a wife." 
 " Complimentary ! " 
 
 "Indeed it is; for you beautifr' -oiuen we love too 
 much for our own happiness — \,. ^i.;! — and a prudent 
 marriage means friendly indii' ici-oo, not rapture and 
 despair. But give me beauty and love; I never was 
 prudent: it is not my weakness." 
 
 Though Caroline was his sole supporter in this dia- 
 logue. Lord Vargrave's eyes attempted to converse with 
 Evelyn, who was unusually silent and abstracted. Sud- 
 denly Lord Vargrave seemed aware that he was scarcely 
 general enough in his talk for his hearers. He addressed 
 himself to Mrs. I<eslie, and glided back, as it were, into 
 a former generation. He spoke of persons gone and 
 things forgotten; he made the subject interesting even 
 to the young, by a succession of various and sparkling 
 anecdotes. No one could be more agreeable: even 
 Evelyn now listened to him with pleasure; for to all 
 women wit and intellect have their charm. But still 
 there was a cold and sharp levity in the tone of the man 
 of the world that prevented the charm sinking below 
 the surface. To Mrs. Leslie he seemed unconsciously 
 to betray a laxity of principle; to Evelyn, a want of 
 sentiment and heart. Lady Vargrave, who did not 
 understand a character of this description, listened at- 
 tentively, and said to herself, « Evelyn may admire, 
 but I fear she cannot love him.," Still time passed 
 
44 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 i 
 
 quickly in Lumley's presence, and Caroline though^ 
 she had never silent so pleasant an evening. 
 
 When Lord Vargrave retired to his room, he threw 
 himself in his chair, and yawned with exceeding fervor. 
 His servant arranged his Iressing-robe, and placed his 
 ^^crtfolios and letter-boxes on the table. 
 
 •' What o'clock is it?" said Lumley. 
 
 " Veiy early, my lord: only eleven." 
 
 " The devil ! — the country air is wonderfully ex- 
 hausting. I am very sleepy; you may go. 
 
 "This little girl," said Lumley, stretching himself, 
 " is pretematurally shy; 1 must neglect her no longer, — 
 yet it is surely all safe. She has grown monstrous 
 pretty; but the other girl is more amusing, more to my 
 taste, and a much easier conquest, I fancy. Her great 
 dark eyes seem full of admiration for my lordship : sen- 
 sible young woman ! — she may be useful in piquing 
 Evelyn. " 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 45 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Julio. Wilt thou have him ? _ The Maid in the Mill. 
 
 distaste and displeasure, of Evelyn's intendsd visit to 
 the Mertons He could scarcely make any open objec- 
 tion to . , but he did not refrain from many insinua- 
 tions as to its improp-iety. 
 
 "My dear friend." said he to Lady Vargrave, « it is 
 scarcely right .1 you (pardon me for saying it) to 
 commit Evelyn to the care of comparative' st'ranger 
 Mrs. Leslie indeed, you know; but Mrs. Merton, you 
 allow you have now seen for the first time, -a most 
 respectable person doubtless; but still, recdlect how 
 young Evelyn is. how rich, what a prize to any younger 
 sons in the Merton family (if such there be)."^ £ 
 Merton herself is a shrewd, worldly girl, and if s" 
 were of our sex would make a capital fortune-hunter. 
 Don t think my fear is selfish; I do not speak for myself. 
 It I were Evelyn's brother. I should be yet more earnest 
 m my remonstrance." « earnest 
 
 "But, Lord Vargrave. poor Evelyn is dull here; mv 
 spirits infect hers. She ought to mix more with those 
 
 before'- '^" ^^'' *"" ''" "''''' °^ *''' "^""'^^ ^^^«^« - 
 " Before her marriage with me. Forgive me. but is 
 no that my affair? If I ., eontented! nay. charmed 
 with her innocence. - if I prefer it to all the arts which 
 ocie y could teach her. -surely you would be acquitt d 
 for leaving ner in the beautiful simplicity that mak.s 
 
 'Hlii 
 
46 
 
 ALICE ; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 tiC 
 
 She will see enough of the world 
 resolve never to be Lady 
 
 her chief fascination 1 
 as Lady Vargrave." 
 "But if she should 
 
 Vargrave — 1" j t j 
 
 Luniley started, bit his lip, and frowned. Lady 
 Vargrave had never before seen on his countenan^- the 
 dark expression it now wore. He recollected and re- 
 covered himself, as he observed her eye fixed upon him, 
 and said, with a constrained smile, — 
 
 « Can you anticipate an event so fatal to ray happi- 
 ness, so unforeseen, so opposed to all my poor uncle's 
 wishes, as Evelyn's rejection of a suit pursued for years, 
 and so solemnly sanctioned in her very childhood? 
 
 « She must decide for herself," said Lady Vargrave. 
 "Your uncle carefully distinguished between a wish 
 and a command. Her heart is as yet untouched. If 
 she can love you, may you deserve her affection. 
 
 "It shall be my study to do so. But why this 
 departure from your roof, just when we ought to see 
 most of each other? It cannot be that you would 
 
 separate us ? " 
 
 " I fear, Lord Vargrave, that if Evelyn were to remain 
 here, she would decide against you. I fear if you press 
 her now, such now may be her premature decision. 
 Perhaps this arises from too fond an attachment for her 
 home; perhaps even a short absence from her home 
 — from me — may more reconcile her to a permanent 
 
 separation." . . 
 
 Vargrave could say no more,, for here they were joined 
 by Caroline and Mrs. Merton; but his manner was 
 changed, nor could he recover the gayety of the previous 
 
 night. T . V 
 
 When, however, he found time for meditation, he 
 contrived to reconcile himself to the intended visit. 
 
if the world 
 
 ) be Lady 
 
 aed. Lady 
 itenarii"'" the 
 jted and re- 
 1 upon him, 
 
 my happi- 
 poor uncle's 
 ed for years, 
 ihoodT' 
 iy Vargrave. 
 veen a wish 
 touched. If 
 ■ection. " 
 ut why this 
 ought to see 
 ; you would 
 
 ere to remain 
 r if you press 
 are decision, 
 iment for her 
 im her home 
 a permanent 
 
 )y were joined 
 ! manner was 
 (f the previous 
 
 neditation, he 
 titended visit. 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 47 
 
 He felt that it was easy to secure the friendship of the 
 whole of the Merton family; and that friendship mi^ht 
 be more useful to him than the neutral part r.doptedV 
 Lady Vargrave. He should, of course, be invited to the 
 Rectory; it was ranch nearer London than Ladv Var- 
 grave s cottage. - he could more often escape from 
 public cares to superintend his private interests. A 
 country neighborhood, particularly at that season of tlie 
 year, was not likely to abound in very dangerous rivals. 
 Evelyn would, he saw, be surrounded by a worldhj 
 family, and he thought that an advantage; it mi^ht 
 serve to dissipate Evelyn's romantic tendencies, and 
 make her sensible of the pleasures of the London life 
 the ofticial rank, the gay society, that her union with 
 him would offer as an equivalent for her fortune. In 
 short, as was his wont, he strove to make the best of 
 the new turn affairs had taken. Thougli guardian to 
 Miss Cameron, and one of the trustees for the fortune 
 she was to receive on attaining her majority, he had not 
 the right to dictate as to her residence. The late lord's 
 will had expressly and pointedly corroborated the natural 
 . .: lawful authority of Lady Vargrave in all matters 
 connected with Evelyn's education and home. It may 
 be as well, in this place, to add. that to Vargrave and 
 the co-trustee, Mr. Gustavus Douce, a banker of repute 
 and eminence, the testator left large discretionary powers 
 as to the investment of the fortune. He had stated it 
 as his wish that from one hundred and twenty to one 
 hundred and thirty thousand pounds should be invested 
 in the purchase of a landed estate; but he had left it to 
 the discretion of the trustees to increase that sum. even 
 to the amount of the whole capital, should an estate of 
 adequate importance be in the market; while the selec- 
 tion of time and purchase was unreservedly confided to 
 
hi 
 
 !a 
 
 48 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 i* ,1; 
 
 }■' 
 
 the trustees. Vargrave had hitherto objected to every 
 purchase in the market: not that he was insensible to 
 the importance and consideration of landed property, 
 Imt because, till he himself l)ecame the legal receiver 
 of the income, he tliought it less trouble to suff'^'- the 
 money to lie in the funds than to be pestered with all 
 the onerous details in the management of an estate that 
 might never be his. He, however, with no less ardor 
 than his deceased relative, looked forward to the time 
 when the title of Vargrave sliould be based upon the 
 venerable foundation of feudal manors and seignorial 
 acres. 
 
 "Why did you not tell me Lord Vargrave was 
 so charming?" said Caroline to Evelyn, as the two 
 girls were sauntering, in familiar tete-h-tke, along the 
 gardens. "You will be very happy with such a 
 companion. " 
 
 Evelyn made no answer for a few moments, and then 
 turning abruptly round to Caroline, and stopping short 
 she said, with a kind of tearful eagerness, " Dear Caro- 
 line, you are so wise, so kind too: advise me, — tell me 
 what is best. I am very unhappy." 
 
 Miss Merton was moved and surprised by Evelyn's 
 earnestness. 
 
 " But what is it, my poor Evelyn ? " said she. " Why 
 are you unhappy? — you whose fate seems to me so 
 enviable. " 
 
 " I cannot love Lord Vargrave; I recoil from the idea 
 of marrying him. Ought I not fairly to tell him so? 
 Ought I not to say that I cannot fulfil the wish that — 
 oh, there 's the thought which loives me so irresolute! 
 — his uncle bequeathed to me, lue who have no claim 
 Of ' litionship, the fortune that should have been 
 Lord Vargrave 's, in the belief that my hand would 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 49 
 
 restore it to him. It is almost a fraud to refuse him. 
 Am I not to be pitied?" 
 
 " But why can you not love Lord Vargrave ? If past 
 the premiere jeunesse, he is still handsome, - he is 
 more than handsome: he has the air of rank, an eye 
 tha fascinates a smile that wins, the manners that 
 plea.e, the abilities that command _ the world ! Hand- 
 some, clever, admired, distinguished,- what can woman 
 desire more in her lover, her husband? Have you 
 ever formed sonie fancy, some ideal, of the one you 
 
 the"' virion;-'' '°" '"^ '-''' ^^^^^^- ^^" ^^-'ol 
 "Have I ever formed an ideal ?^ oh, yes!" said 
 Evelyn, with a beautiful enthusiasm that lighted up 
 her eyes blushed in her cheek, and heaved her bosom 
 beneath its robe: "something that in loving I could 
 also revere; a mind that would elevate my own; a heart 
 that could sympathize with my weakness, my follies 
 
 my Xl^TouL'^^" '''''' '^' ^" ^'^"^ ' -^'' *— 
 " You paint a schoolmaster, not a lover! » said Caro- 
 iine You do not care, then, whether this hero be 
 handsome or young ? " 
 
 "Oh, yes; he should be both," said Evelyn, inno- 
 cently; "and yet,^' she added, after a pause, Ld with 
 an infantine playfulness of manner and countenance 
 
 I know you will laugh at me; but I think I could be 
 mjove with more than one at the same time!" 
 A common case, but a rare confession' " 
 
 "Yes; for if I might ask for the youth and outward 
 advantages that please the eye, I could also love with a 
 yet deeper love that which would speak to my imagi- 
 nation _ intellect, genius, fame! Ah, these have an 
 immortal youth and imperishable beauty of their own' " 
 
50 
 
 ALICR; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 fi 
 
 " You are a very strange girl." 
 
 " But we are on a very strange siibject, — it ia all an 
 enigma!" said Evelyn, shaking her wise little head 
 with a pretty gravity, half raock, half roal. " Ah, if 
 Lord Vargrave should love you, and you, — oh, you 
 would love him, and then I should be free, and so 
 happy ! " 
 
 They were then on the lawn in sight of the cottage 
 windows, and Lumley, lifting his eyes from the news- 
 paper, which had just arrived and been seized with all 
 a politician's avidity, saw them in the distance. He 
 threw down the paper, mused a moment or two, then 
 took up his hat and joined them; but before he did so, 
 he surveyed himself in the glass. "I think I look 
 young enough still," thought he. 
 
 " Two cherries on one stalk," said Lumley , gay ly : " by 
 the bye , it is not a complimentary simile. What young 
 lady would be like a cherry ? — such an uninteresting, 
 common, charity-boy sort of fruit. For my part, I 
 always associate cherries with the image of a young 
 gentleman in corduroys and a skeleton jacket, with one 
 pocket full of marbles, and the other full of worms for 
 fishing, with three-halfpence in the left paw, and two 
 cherries on one stalk (Helena and Hermia) in the 
 right." 
 
 " How droll you are! " said Caroline, laughing. 
 
 " Much obliged to you, and don't envy your discrimi- 
 nation, — 'melancholy marks me for its own.' You 
 ladies, — ah, yours is the life for gay spirits and light 
 hearts ; to us are left business and politics, law, physic, 
 and murder by way of professions, — abuse, nick- 
 named fame; and the privilege of seeing how universal 
 a thing, among the great and the Avealthy, is that 
 pleasant vice, beggary ; which privilege is proudly en- 
 
ALICK ; OK, THK MVSTKRIES. 
 
 51 
 
 titled, ' patronage and power. ' Are wo the things to be 
 gay,-' droll,' as you say? Oh, no; all our spirits are 
 forced, believe me. Miss Cameron, did you ever know 
 that wretched species of hysterical affection called 
 'forced spirits'? Never, I am sure; your ingenuous 
 smile, your laughing eyes, are the index to a happy 
 and a sanguine heart." 
 
 "And what of me?" asked Caroline, quickly, and 
 with a slight blush, J. ^« 
 
 " You, Miss Merton? Ah, I have not yet read your 
 character, — a fair page, but an unknown letter. You 
 however, have seen the world, and know that we must 
 occasionally wear a mask." Lord Vargrave sighed as 
 he spoke, and relapsed into sudden silence; then, look- 
 ing up, his eyes encountered Caroline's, which were 
 fixed upon him; their gaze flattered him. Caroline 
 turned away, and busied herself with a rosebush. Lum- 
 ley gathered one of the flowers, and presented it to her. 
 Evelyn was a few steps in advance. 
 
 " There is no thorn in this rose," said he: "may the 
 offering be an omen; you are now Evelyn's friend,— 
 oh, be mine; she is to be your guest. Do not scorn to 
 plead for me." 
 
 "Can you want a pleader?" said Caroline, with a 
 slight tremor in her voice. 
 
 " Charming Miss Merton, love is diffident and fear- 
 ful; but it must now find a voice, to which may Evelyn 
 henignly listen. What I leave unsaid, would that my 
 new friend's eloquence could supply." 
 
 He bowed sliglitly, and joined Evelyn. Caroline 
 understood the hint, and returned alone and thought- 
 fully to the house. 
 
 "Miss Cameron, — Evelyn, — ah, still let me call 
 you so, as in the happy and more familiar days of your 
 
52 
 
 ALTOE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 
 childhood. I wish you could read my heart at this 
 moment. You uro about to leave your homo ; new scenes 
 will surround, new faces smile on you; dare I hope that 
 I may .itill be romombored? " 
 
 He attempted to take her hand as he spoke; Evelyn 
 withdrew it gently, 
 
 " Ah, my lord," said she, in a very low voice, " if 
 
 remembrance were all that you asked of me " 
 
 " It is all ; favorable remembrance, remembrance of the 
 love of the past, remembrance of the bond to come," 
 
 Evelyn shivered. " It is better to speak openly," 
 said she; " let me throw myself on your generosity. I 
 am not insensible to your brilliant qualities, to the 
 honor of your attachment; but — but — as the time ap- 
 proaches in which you will call for my decision, let me 
 now say that I cannot feel for you — those — those 
 sentiments without which you could not desire our 
 union, without which it were but a wrong to both of 
 us to form it. Nay, listen to me: I grieve bitterly at 
 the tenor of your too-generous uncle's will; can I not 
 atone to you? Willingly would I sacrifice the fortune 
 that, indeed, ought to be yours; accept it, and remain 
 my friend." 
 
 " Cruel Evelyn! and can you suppose that it is your 
 fortune I seek ? It is yourself. Heaven is my witness 
 that had you no dowry but your hand and heart, it were 
 treasure enough to me. You think you cannot love me. 
 Evelyn, you do not yet know yourself. Alas! your 
 retirement in this distant village; my own unceasing 
 avocations, which chain me, like a slave, to the galley- 
 oar of politics and power, — have kept us separate. You 
 do not know me. I am willing to hazard the experiment 
 of that knowledge. To devote my life to you; to make 
 you partaker of my ambition, my career; to raise you 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MVSTLUlEb. 
 
 63 
 
 to the higliest eminence in the matronage of England • 
 to transfer pride from myself to you; to love au<l to 
 honor and to prize you, — all this will be my brasf 
 and all this will win love for mo at last. Fear r-.^ 
 Evelyn, -fear not for your happino-ss; with me you 
 •shall know no sorrow. Affection at homo, epl. au. r 
 abroad, await you. 1 have passed the rough and a..]..- 
 ous part of my career: sunshine lies on the summit . 
 which r climb. No station in England is too high for 
 me to aspire to, — prospects, how bright with you' 
 how dark without you! Ah, Evelyn! be this hand 
 mine ; the heart shall follow ! " 
 
 Vargrave's words were artful and eloquent; the words 
 were calculated to win their way, but the manner, the 
 tone of voice, wanted earnestness and truth. This was 
 his defect; this characterized all his attempts to seduce 
 or to lead others, in public or in private life. He had 
 no heart, no deep passion, in what he undertook. He 
 could impress you with the conviction of his ability, 
 and leave the conviction imperfect, because he could 
 not convince you that he was sincere. That best gift 
 of mental power, earnestness, was wanting to him; and 
 Lord Vargrave's deficiency of heart was the true cause 
 why he was not a great man. Still, Evelyn was af- 
 fected by his words; she suffered the hand he now 
 once more took to remain passively in his, and said 
 timidly, — 
 
 " Why, with sentiments so generous and confiding, — 
 why do you love me, who cannot return your affection 
 worthily? No, Lord Vargrave; there are many who 
 must see you with juster eyes than mine, — many fairer 
 and even wealthier. Lideed — indeed, it cannot be' 
 Do not be offended, but think that the fortune left to 
 me was on one condition I cannot, ought not to fulfil. 
 
i 
 ^ 
 
 54 
 
 ALICE ; on, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 Failing that conditio)] , in equity and honor it reverts 
 to you." 
 
 " Talk not thus, I implore you, Evelyn : do not im- 
 agine me the worldly calculator that my enemies deem 
 ine. But, to remove at once from your mind the pos- 
 sibility of such a compromise between your honor and 
 repugnance (repugnance! have I lived to say that 
 word?), know that your fortune is not at your own 
 disposal. Save the small forfeit that awaits your non- 
 compliance with my uncle's dying prayer, the whole is 
 settled peremptorily on yourself and your children; it 
 is entailed, — you cannot alienate it. Thus, then, your 
 generosity can never be evinced but to him on whom 
 you bestow your hand. Ah! let me recall that melan- 
 choly scene. Your benefactor on his death-bed, your 
 mother kneeling by his side, your hand clasped in mine, 
 and those lips, with their latest breath, uttering at 
 once a blessing and a command!" 
 'I^Ah, cease, — cease, my lord! " said Evelyn, sobbing. 
 "No; bid me not cease before you tell me j'ou will 
 be mine. Beloved Evelyn! I may hope; you will 
 not resolve against me." 
 
 "No," said Evelyn, raising her eyes and struggling 
 for composure, " I feel too well what should be my duty: 
 I will endeavor to perform it. Ask me no more nowj 
 I will struggle to answer you as you wish hereafter." 
 
 Lord Vargrave, resolved to push to the utmost the 
 advantage he had gained, was about to reply, when he 
 heard a step behind him, and turning round, quickly 
 and discomposed, beheld a venerable form approaching 
 them. The occasion was lost: Evelyn also turned, 
 and seeing who was the i^itruder, sprang towards him 
 almost with a cry of joy. 
 
 The new-comer was a man who had passed his seven- 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 55 
 
 tieth year; but his old age was green, his step light, and 
 on his healthful and benignant countenance time had 
 left but few furrows. He was clothed in black; and 
 his locks, which were white as snow, escaped from the 
 broad hat, and almost touched his shoulders. 
 
 The old man smiled upon Evelyn, and kissed her 
 forehead fondly. He then turned to Lord Vargrave, 
 who, recovering his customary self-possession, advanced 
 to meet him with extended hand. 
 
 "My dear Mr. Aubrey, this is a welcome surprise. 
 I heard you Avere not at the vicarage, or I would have 
 called on you." 
 
 " Your lordship honors me," replied the curate. " For 
 the first time for tliirty years I have been thus long 
 absent from my cure; but I am now returned, I hope, 
 to end my days among my flock." 
 
 And what," asked Vargrave, — '^ what — if the ques- 
 tion be not presumptuc as — occasioned your unwilline 
 absence 1" •' e 
 
 ^^ " My lord," replied the old man, with a gentle smile, 
 "a new vicar has been appointed. I went to him to 
 proffer an humble prayer that I might remain amongst 
 those whom I regarded as my cliildren. I have buried 
 one generation; I have married another; I have bap- 
 tized a third." . 
 
 " You should have had the vicarage itself; you should 
 be better provided for, my dear Mr. Aubrey. I will 
 speak to the Lord Chancellor." 
 
 Five times before had Lord Vargrave uttered the same 
 promise, and the curate smiled to hear the familiar 
 words. 
 
 "The vicarage, my lord, is a family living, and is 
 now vested in a young man who requires wealth more 
 than I do. He has been kind to me, and re-established 
 
56 
 
 ALICK •, OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 
 me among my flock ; I would not leave Miera for a bish- 
 opric. My child," continued the curate, addressing 
 Evelyn with great affection, "you are surely unwell, — 
 you are paler than when I left you." 
 
 Evelyn clung fondly to his arm, and smiled, — her 
 old gay smile, — as she replied to him. They took the 
 way towards the house. 
 
 The curate remained with them for an hour. There 
 was a mingled sweetness and dignity in his manner 
 Avhich had in it something of the primitive character we 
 poetically ascribe to the pastors of the church. Lady 
 Vargrave seemed to vie with Evelyn which should love 
 him thf most. AVhen he retired to his home, which 
 was not many yards distant from the cottage, Evelyn, 
 pleading a headaclie, sought her chamber, and Lumley, 
 to soothe his mortification, turned to Caroline, who had 
 seated herself by his side. Her conversation amused 
 him, and her evident admiration flattered. While Lady 
 Vargrave absented herself in motherly anxiety, to at- 
 tend on Evelyn ; while Mrs. Leslie was occupied at her 
 frame, and Mrs. Merton looked on, and talked in- 
 dolently to the old lady of rheumatism and sermons, 
 of children's complaints and servants' misdemeanors, — 
 the conversation between Lord Vargrave and Caroline, 
 at first gay and animated, grew gradually more senti- 
 Tuental and subdued: their voices took a lower tone, and 
 Caroline sometimes turned away her head and blushed. 
 
 
ALICE ; Olt, T!IE MYSTERIES. 
 
 57 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 There stands the Messenger of Truth, — there stands 
 The Legate of tlie Skies. 
 
 COWPER. 
 
 From that night Lumley found no opportunity for pri- 
 vate conversation with Evelyn. She evidently shunned 
 to meet with him alone ; she was ever with her mother 
 or Mrs. Leslie or the good curate, who spent much of 
 his time at the cottage, for the old man had neither 
 wife nor children; he was alone at home, — he had 
 learned to make his home with the widow and her 
 daughter. With them he was an object of the tenderest 
 affection, — of the deepest veneration. Their love de- 
 lighted him. and he returned it with the fondness of a 
 parent and the benevolence of a pastor. He was a rare 
 character, that village priest! 
 
 Born of humble parentage, Edward Aubrey had early 
 displayed abilities which attracted the notice of a 
 wealthy proprietor, who was not displeased to affect the 
 patron. Young Aubrey was sent to school, and thence 
 to college as a sizar; he obtained several prizes, and took 
 a high degree. Aubrey was not without the ambition 
 and the passions of youth ; he went into the world, ar- 
 dent, inexperienced, and without a guide. He drew 
 back before errors grew into crimes, or folly became a 
 habit. It was nature and affection that reclaimed and 
 saved him from either alternative, — fame or ruin. His 
 widowed mother was suddenly stricken with disease. 
 Blind and bed-ridden, her whole dependence was on 
 
58 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 ]| 
 
 her only 3on. This affliction called forth a new charac- 
 ter in Edward Aubrey. This mother had stripped herself 
 of so many comforts to provide for him, — he devoted his 
 youth to her in return. She \ ^3 now old and imbecile. 
 \Vith the mingled selfishness an' sentimen^ of age, she 
 would not come to London ; she wjuld not move from 
 the village where her husband lay buried, where h'^r 
 youth had been spent. In this village the able and 
 ambitious young man buried his hopes and his talents; 
 by degrees the quiet and tranquillity of the country life 
 became dear to him. As steps in a ladder, so piety 
 leads to piety, and religion grew to him a habit. He 
 took orders and entered the church. A disappointment 
 in love ensued; it left on his mind and heart a sober 
 and resigned melancholy, which at length mellowed into 
 content. His profession and its 8we?t duties became 
 more and more dear to him; in the hopes of the next 
 world he forgot the ambition of the present. He did 
 not seek to shine, — 
 
 " More skilled to raise the wretched than to rise." 
 
 His own birth made the poor his brothers, and their 
 dispositions and wants familiar to him. Fi's own early 
 errors made him tolerant to the faults of • , - i; few 
 men are charitable who remember not that they 'have 
 sinned. In our faults lie the germs of virtues. Thus 
 gradually and serenely had worr away his life, obscrre 
 but useful, calm but active, — ^ man whom " the great 
 prizes » of the church might have rendered an ambitious 
 schemer; to whom a modest confidence gave the true 
 pastoral power, — to conquer the world within himself, 
 and to sympathize with the wants of others. Yes, he 
 was a rare character, that village priest! 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 59 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Tout notre raisonnement se reduit k cederau sentiment.i — Pascal 
 
 Lord Vargrave, who had no desire to remain alone 
 with the widow when the guestc were gone, arranged 
 his departure for the same day as that fixed for Mrs 
 Merton's; and as their road lay together for several 
 
 miles, It was settled that they should all dine at 
 
 whence Lord Vargravo would proceed to London.' 
 lailing to procure a second chance interview with 
 Evelyn, and afraid to demand a formal one, — for he 
 felt the insecurity of the ground he stood on , — Lord 
 Vargrave, irritated and somewhat mortified, sought, as 
 was his habit, whatever amusement was in his reach. 
 In the conversation of Caroline Merton, — shrewd' 
 worldly, and ambitious, — he found the sort of plaything 
 that he desired. They were thrown much together; 
 but to Vargrave, at least, there appeared no danger in 
 the intercourse; and perhaps his chief object was to 
 pique Evelyn, as well as to gratify his own spleen. 
 
 It was the evening before Evelyn's departure: the 
 little party had been for the last hour dispersed. Mrs. 
 Merton was in her own room, making to herself gratui- 
 tous and unnecessary occupation in seeing her woman 
 pack up. It was just the kind of task that delighted 
 her. To sit in a large chair, and see somebody else at 
 work; to say languidly, "Don't crumple that scarf, 
 Jane ; and where shall we put Miss Caroline's blue 
 bonnet?" — gave her a very comfortable notion of her 
 1 All our reasoning reduces itself to yielding to sentiment. 
 
I' li 
 
 GO 
 
 ALICE; OR, Till: MYSTKRIKS. 
 
 own iniportanco and habits of businoas- a sort of title 
 to bo Uio snpi'.rintcndent of a family and the wife of a 
 rector, Caroline had disappeared, — so hi^d Lord Var. 
 grave. Hut ihe first was supposed to be with Evoljii; 
 the second, employed in writing letters, — at least, it was 
 so when they had been last observed. Mrs. Luslio was 
 alone in the drawing-room, and absorbed in anxious 
 and benevolent thought;- on the critical situation of her 
 young favorite, about i- jntcr an ago and a world the 
 perils of Avhich Mrs. Leslie hnt! not furgotton. 
 
 It was at this time that i' .olyn, forgetful of Lord 
 Vargravo and his suit, of every one, of everything but 
 the grief of the approaoiu'ng departure, found herself 
 alone in a little arbor, tliat had been built upon the 
 clilT to command the view of the sea below. That day 
 she had been restless, perturbed; she had visited every 
 spot consecrated by youthful recollections; she had clung 
 wiii;. fond regret to every place in which she had held 
 sweet converse with her mother. Of a disposition 
 singularly warm and affectionate, she had often, in her 
 secret heart, pined for a more yearning and enthusiastic 
 love than it seemed in the subdued nature of Lady 
 Vargrave to bestow. In the affection of the latter, gen- 
 tle and never-fluctuating as it was, there seemed to her 
 a something wanting, which she could not define. She 
 had watched that beloved face all the morning. She 
 had hoped to see the tender eyes fixed upon her, and 
 hear the meek voice exclaim, " I cannot part with my 
 child!" All the gay pictures which the light-hearted 
 Carolina drew of the scenes she was to enter, had van- 
 ished away, now that the hour approached when her 
 mother was to be left alone. Why was she to go? It 
 seemed to her an unnecessary cruelty. 
 
 As she thus sat, she did not observe that Mr. Aubrey, 
 
 
rt of titlf," 
 wife of a 
 Lord ^'^ar. 
 1 Evolyn; 
 tast, it was 
 [>oslio was 
 1 anxious 
 ion of hor 
 world the 
 
 of Lord 
 thing but 
 id herself 
 upon the 
 That day 
 ted every 
 had clung 
 had held 
 isposition 
 !n, in her 
 thusiastic 
 
 of Lady 
 tter, gen- 
 ed to her 
 ne. She 
 ng. She 
 
 her, and 
 
 with my 
 
 t-hearted 
 
 had van- 
 
 'hen her 
 
 go? It 
 
 Aubrey, 
 
 ALICR; OR, THK MYSTEUIKS. 
 
 61 
 
 I ■ 
 
 
 who had seen hor at a distance, was now bending his way 
 () her, and not till he had entered the arbor and taken 
 her hand, did she waken from those reveries in which 
 youth, the . roainor and the desir, r, so mor1)iaiy indulges 
 Tears, ,ny child," said the curate, _" nay, be "nul 
 as/mriK-d of them ; they become you in this hour. How 
 wo^shall miss vou! and you. too, will not forget usl " 
 
 I^orget you! Ah, no, indeed! But why should I 
 leave you? Why will you not speak to my mother, - 
 mi])lore her to let me remain? We were so happy till 
 these strangers came. We did not think there was any 
 other world; here there is world enough for me' " 
 
 "My poor Evelyn," said Mr. Aubrey, gently "I 
 have spoken to your mother and to Mrs. Leslie • 'they 
 have confided to me all the reasons for your departure, 
 and I cannot but subscribe to their justice. You do not 
 want many months of the age when you will be called 
 upon to decide whether Lord Vargrave shall be your 
 hu.sband. Your mother shrinks from the responsibility 
 of influencing your decision; and here, my child, inex- 
 perienced, and having seen so little of others, how can 
 you know your own heart ? " 
 
 "But, oh, Mr. Aubrey," said Evelyn, with an earn- 
 estness that overcame embarrassment, " have I a choice 
 left to me? Can I be ungrateful, disobedient to him 
 who was a father to me? Ought I not to sacrifice my 
 own happiness? And how willingly would I do so if 
 my mother would smile on me approvingly! " 
 
 "My child," said the curate, gravely, "an old man is 
 a bad judge of the affairs of youth; yet in this matter 
 I think your duty plain. Do not resolutely set yourself 
 against Lord Vargrave's claim, — do not persuade your- 
 3elf that you must be unhappy in a union with him. 
 Compose your mind; think seriously upon the choice 
 
 m 
 
62 
 
 ALICE; OR, THK MYSTERIES. 
 
 tin 
 
 before you; refuse all decision at the present moment, 
 — wait until the appointed time arrives, ot; at least, 
 more nearly approaches. IVfcanwhile, I understand 
 that Lord Vargrave is to he a frequent visitor at Mrs. 
 Morton's ; tliere you will see him with others. His cliar- 
 acter will show itself, — study his principles, his dispo- 
 sition; examine whether he is one whom you can esteem 
 and render happy. There may be a love without enthu- 
 siasm, and yet sufficient for domestic felicity, and for 
 tlie employment of the affections. You will insen- 
 sibly, too, learn from other parts of his character which 
 he does not exhibit to us. If the result of time and ex- 
 amination be that you can cheerfully obey the late 
 lord's dying wish, unquestionably it will be the hap- 
 pier decision. If not, — if you still shrink from vows 
 at which your heart now rebels, — as unquestionably 
 you may, with an acquitted conscience, become free. 
 The best of us are imperfect judges of the happiness of 
 others. In the woe or weal of a whole life, we must 
 decide for ourselves. Your benefactor could not mean 
 you to be wretched; and if he now, with eyes purified 
 from all worldly mists, look down upon you, his spirit 
 will approve your choice. For when we quit the 
 world, all worldly ambition dies with us. What now 
 to the immortal soul can be the title and the rank which 
 on earth, with the desires of earth, your benefactor hoped 
 to secure to his adopted child ? This is my advice. Look 
 on the bright side of things, and wait calmly for the 
 hour when Lord Vargrave can demand your decision. " 
 
 The words of the priest, which well defined her duty, 
 inexpressibly soothed and comforted Evelyn; and the 
 advice upon other and higher matters, which the good 
 man pressed upon a mind so softened at that hour to re- 
 ceive religious impressions, was received with gratitude 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 63 
 
 and respect. Subsequently their conversation fell upon 
 Lady Vargrave, — a theme dear to botli of them. The 
 old man was greatly touched by the poor girl's unselfish 
 anxiety for her mother's comfort, — by her fears tliat she 
 might be missed in tliose little attentions which filial 
 love alone can render; he was almost yet more touched 
 when, with a less disinterested feeling, Evelyn added 
 mournfully, — 
 
 "Yet why, after all, should I fancy she will so 
 miss me? Ah, though I will not dare complain of it, 
 I feel still that she does not love me as I love her." 
 ^^ "Evelyn," said the curate, with mild reproach, 
 " have I not said that your mother has known sorrow ? 
 And though sorrow does not annihilate affection, it sub- 
 dues its expression, and moderates its outward signs." 
 Evelyn sighed, and said no more. 
 As the good old man and his young friend returned 
 to the cottage. Lord Vargrave and Caroline approached 
 them, emerging from an opposite part of the grounds. 
 The former hastened to Evelyn with his usual gayety 
 and frank address; and there was so much charm in the 
 manner of a man whom apparently the world and its 
 cares had never rendered artificial or reserved, that the 
 curate himself was impressed by it. He thought that 
 Evelyn might ba happy with one amiable enough for a 
 companion and wise enough for a guide. But, old as 
 he was, he had loved, and he knew that there are instincts 
 in the heart which defy all our calculations. 
 
 While Lumley was conversing, the little gate that 
 made the communication between the gardens and the 
 neighboring churchyard, through which was the nearest 
 access to the village, creaked on its hinges, and the quiet 
 and solitary figure of Lady Vargrave il-rew its shadow 
 over the grass. 
 
64 
 
 AUCE; OK, THK MYSTERIES. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 And I can listen to thee yet, 
 <'hi lie upon the plain, — 
 
 / u(l listen till 1 do beg-.t 
 That golden time ugaiu. 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 It was past midnight, — hostess and guests had retired 
 to repose, — when Lady Vargrave's door opened :;ently. 
 The lady herself was kneeling at the fool of the bed; 
 the moonlight came through the half-drawn curtains of 
 the casement; and by it^ ray her pale, calm features 
 looked paler, and yet more hushed. 
 
 Evelyn, for she was the intruder, paused at the 
 threshold till her mother rose from her devotions, and 
 then she threw herself on Lady Vargrave's breast, sob- 
 bing as if her heart would break, — hers were the wild, 
 generous, irresistible emotionr of youth. Lail . Var- 
 grave, perhaps, had known ihara once; at leaot, she 
 could sympathize with them now. 
 
 She strained her child to her bosom; she stroked 
 back her haitj and kissed her fondly, and spoke a> her 
 soothingly. 
 
 "Mother," sobbed Evelyn, "I could not sleep, 
 could not rest. Bless me again, — kiss me a^ain; 
 m» that you love me! You cannot love me . do 
 but tell me that I am dear to you, — tell i yo 
 
 I 
 
 tell 
 ou; 
 ■ill 
 
 regret me, but not too much ; tell me — " liv;re Eveiyn 
 paused, unA could say no more. 
 
ALICE; OK, TIIK MYSTKlilES. 
 
 65 
 
 My best, my kinch'-st Evelyn," said Lady Vargravr, 
 " there IS notliing on earth I lovo like you. J)o not 
 fancy I am ungrat(;ful. " 
 
 " Why do you say ungrateful ? — your own child, — 
 your only chiLl"' And Evelyn covred her mother's 
 face and hands with passionate tears and kisses. 
 
 At that moment, certain it is that Lady Vargravo's 
 heart reproached her with not having, indeed, lo.ed 
 this sweet girl as she deserved. True, no mother was 
 more mild, more attentive, more fostering, more anxious 
 for a daughter's welfare; but Evelyn was right! — the 
 gushing fondness, the mysterious entering into every 
 subtle thought and feeling, whieh should have charac- 
 terized the love uf such a mother to such a child, had 
 been, to outward appearance, wanting. Even in this 
 present parting thr had been a prudence, an exercise 
 of reasoning, that savored more of duty than love 
 Lady Vargrave felt a] fhis with remorse; she gave 
 way to emotions new ., jur, _ at least to exhibit: she 
 wepf, with Evelyn, and re od her caresses with 
 almost equal fervor. Perhu^, too, she thought at 
 that moment of what love that warm nature was suscep- 
 tible; and she trembled for her future fate. It was 
 as a full reconciliation — that mournful hour — between 
 feelings on either side which something mysterious 
 seemed to have checked before; and tl 't last night ihe 
 mother and the child did not separate,— the same ouch 
 contained them; and when, worn out with some emo- 
 tions which she could not reveal, Lady Vargrave fell 
 into the sleep of exhaustion, Evelyi/s arm was round 
 her, and Evelyn's eyes watched her with pious and 
 anxious love as the gray morning dawned. 
 
 She left her in ther still sleeping when the sun rose, 
 and went silently down into the dear room below, and 
 
66 
 
 ALICK; or, the MV>TERIE8. 
 
 i 
 
 ., i ., ■■. 
 
 y 
 
 again busiod hersolf in a thousand little provident cares, 
 which she wondero.l she had forgot before. 
 
 The carriages were at tlie door before the party had 
 assembled at tlie mehuicholy breakfast table. Lord 
 Vargrave was the last to appear. 
 
 " I have been like all cowards," said he, seating him. 
 self, — " anxious to defer an evil as long as possible ; a 
 bad policy, for it increases the worst of ail pains,— that 
 of suspense. " 
 
 Mrs Merton had undertaken the duties that appertain 
 to the "hissing urn." "You prefer coffee, Lord Var- 
 grave ? Caroline, my dear — " 
 
 Caroline passed the cup to Lord Vargrave, who looked 
 at her hand as he took it: there was a ring on one of 
 those slender fingers never observed there before. 
 Their eyes met, and Caroline colored. Lord Vargrave 
 turned to Evelyn, who, pale as death, but tearless and 
 speechless, sat beside her mother; he attempted in 
 vain to draw her into conversation. Evelyn, who de- 
 sired to restrain her feelings, would not trust herself to 
 speak. 
 
 Mrs. Merton, ever undisturbed and placid, continued 
 to talk on : to offer congratulations on the weather, — it 
 was such a lovely day; and they should be off so early; 
 it would be so well arranged; they should be in such 
 
 good time to dine at , and then go tluoe stages after 
 
 dinner; the moon would be up. 
 
 " But," said Lord Vargrave, " as I am to go with you 
 
 as far as , where our roads separate, I hope I am 
 
 not condemned to go alone, with my red box, two 
 old newspapers, and the blue devils. Have pity on 
 me." i' J " 
 
 " Perhaps you will take grandmamma, then 1 " whis- 
 pered Caroline, archly. 
 
ALIf'K; OK, THK MYSTERIES. 
 
 67 
 
 Luniloy shrugged his shouklerH, and replind in the 
 Kam,aone,"Y.:,,_ provided you keep to the proverb 
 'A/'.v extremes se tourhent,' ami the lovely grandchild 
 accompany tlio venonil.le grandiimmma." 
 
 " What would Evelyn say 1 " retorted Caroline. 
 Luraley sighed, and made no answer. 
 l\rrs. Merton, who had hung fire while her daughter 
 was carrying on this " aside," now put in. 
 
 "Sui)pose I and Caroline take your britska, and you 
 go in our old coach with Evelyn and Mrs. Leslie? "' 
 
 Lumley looked delightedly at the speaker, and then 
 glanced at Evelyn ; but Mrs. Leslie said very gravely, 
 " No, ve shall feel too much in leaving this dear place 
 to be gay companions for Lord Vargrave. We sJiall all 
 ir^eet at dinner; or," she added, after a pause, " if this 
 be uncourteous to Lord Vargrave, suppose Evelyn and 
 myself take his carriage, and he accompanies you? " 
 
 "Agreed," said Mrs. Merton, quietly; "and now I 
 will just go and see about the strawberry -plants and 
 slips, — it was so kind in you, dear Lady Vargrave. to 
 think of them." 
 
 An hour had elapsed, and Evelyn was gone! She had 
 left her maiden home; she had wept her last farewell 
 on her mother's bosom ; the sound of the carriage-wheels 
 had died away: but still Lady Varpravo lingered on the 
 threshold, —still she gazed on the spot where the last 
 glimpse of Evelyn had been caught. A sense of dreari- 
 ness and solitude passed into her soul: the very sun- 
 light, the spring, the songs of the birds, made loneli- 
 ness more desolate. 
 
 Mechanically, at last, she moved away, and with slow 
 steps and downcast eyes passed through the favorite walk 
 that led into the quiet burial-ground. The gate closed 
 upon her, and now the lawn, the gardens, the haunts of 
 
 1 
 
i 11 
 
 68 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE .MYSTERIES. 
 
 Evelyn, were solitary as the desert itself; but the daisy 
 opened to the sun, and the bee murmured along the 
 blossoms, not the less blithely for the absence of all 
 human life. In the bosom of Naturt there beats no heart 
 for man. 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 Etoi iJK9f, TrfptTr\ofifvaii> ivtavr&v, 
 Ttp 01 iiriK\<!iaavro 0(ol oi/coVSt vitadai 
 Els 'WaKTiv, oiid' iyOa nf.pvy/xtvos ^ev dtdKuv. 
 
 HoM, : Of/., lib. 
 The hour arrived — years having rolled awav — 
 When his return the Gods no more delay. 
 Lo ! Ithaca the Fates awanl ; and there 
 New trials meet the Wanderer. 
 
 1. 16 
 
t] 
 
 tc 
 
 tl 
 
 fr 
 
 V( 
 
 di 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 There is continual spring and harvest here, — 
 
 Continual, both meeting at one time • 
 For both the boughs do laughing blossoms bear, 
 
 And with fresh colors deck the wanton prime ; 
 And eke at once the heavy trees they climb. 
 
 Which seem to labor under their fruits' load. 
 
 Spenser : The Garden of Adonis. 
 
 Vis boni 
 In ipsa inesset form(i.i 
 
 Terent. 
 
 Beauty, thou art twice blessed: thou blessest the gazer 
 and the possessor; often at once the effect and the cause 
 of goodness! A sweet disposition, a lovely soul, an 
 affectionate nature, will speak in the eyes, the lips, 
 the brow, and become the cause of beauty. On the other 
 hand, they who have a gift that commands love, a key 
 that opens all hearts, are ordinarily inclined to look with 
 happy eyes upon the world, — to be cheerful and serene, 
 to hope and to confide. There is more wisdom than 
 the vulgar dream of in our admiration of a fair face. 
 
 Evelyn Cameron was beautiful: a beauty that came 
 
 from the heart, and went to the heart; a beauty the 
 
 very spirit of which was love! Love smiled on her 
 
 dimpled lips; it reposed on her open brow; it played in 
 
 * Even in beauty there exists the power of virtue. 
 
72 
 
 ALICi:; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 the. profuse and careless ringlets of darkest yet sunniest 
 auburn, which a breeze could lift from her delicate and 
 virgin cheek. Love, in all its tenderness, in all its 
 kindness, its unsuspecting truth, — love colored every 
 thought, murmured in her low melodious voice; in all 
 its symmetry and glorious womanhood, love swelled 
 the swan-like neck, and moulded the rounded limb. 
 
 She was just the kind of person that takes the judg- 
 ment by storm: Vt^hether gay or grave, there was so 
 charming and irresistible a grace about her. She 
 seemed born, not only to captivate the giddy, but to 
 turn the heads of the sage. Koxalana was nothing to 
 her. How, in the obscure hamlet of Brook-Green, she 
 had learned all the arts of pleasing, it is impossible to 
 say. In her arch smile, the pretty toss of her head, the 
 half shyness, half freedom, of her winning ways, it was 
 as if Nature had male her to delight one heart and 
 torment all others. 
 
 Without being learned, the mind of Evelyn was cul- 
 tivated and well informed. Her heart perhaps helped 
 to instruct her understanding; for by a kind of intuition 
 she could appreciate all that was beautiful and elevated. 
 Her unvitiated and guileless taste had a logic of its own : 
 no schoolman had ever a quicker penetration into truth, 
 — no critic ever more readily detected the meretricious 
 and the false. The book that Evelyn could admire was 
 sure to be stamped with the impress of the noble, the 
 lovely, or the true! 
 
 But Evelyn had faults, —the faults of her age; or 
 rather she had tendencies that might conduce to error. 
 She was of so generous a nature that the very thouglit 
 of sacrificing herself for another had a charm. S^he 
 ever acted from impulse, — impulses pure and good, but 
 often rash and imprudent. She was yielding to weak- 
 
 I 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 73 
 
 ness, persuaded into anything, so sensitive that even 
 a eold look from one moderately liked cut her to the 
 heart; and by the sympathy tliat accompanies sensitive- 
 ness, no pain to her was so great as tlie thought of giv- 
 ing pain to another. Hence it was that Vargrave might 
 form reasonable hopes of his ultimate success. It was a 
 dangero' constitution for happiness! How many 
 chances must combine to preserve to the mid-day of 
 characters like this, the sunshine of their dawn! The 
 butterfly, that seems the child of the summer and the 
 flowers, what wind will not chill its mirth, — what 
 touch will not brush away its hues 1 
 
74 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 These, on a general survey, are the modes 
 '^)f pulpit oratory, which agree 
 With no unlettered audience. 
 
 POLWHELE. 
 
 Mrs. Leslie had returned from her visit to the Rectory 
 to her own home; and Evelyn had now been some weeks 
 at Mrs. Merton's. As was natural, she had grown in 
 some measure reconciled and resigned to her change of 
 abode. In fact, no sooner did she pass Mrs. Merton's 
 threshold than, for the first time, she was made aware 
 of her consequence in life. 
 
 The Reverend Mr. Morton was a man of the nicest 
 perception in all things appertaining to worldly consid- 
 eration : the second son of a very wealthy baronet (who 
 was the first commoner of his county) and of the 
 daughter of a rich and highly descended peer, Mr. Mer- 
 ton had been brought near enough to rank and power 
 to appreciate all their advantages. In early life he had 
 been something of a "tuft-hunter;" but as his under- 
 standing was good, and his passions not very strong, he 
 had soon perceived that that vessel of clay, a young^man 
 with a moderate fortune, cannot long sail down the same 
 stream with the metal vessels of rich earls and extrava- 
 gant dandies. Besides, he was destined for the church, 
 — because there was one of the finest livings in England 
 in the family. He therefore took orders at six-and- 
 twenty, married Mrs. Leslie's daughter, who had thirty 
 thousand pounds, and settled at the Rectory of Merton, 
 
ALICK; OR, THK MYSTETtlRS. 
 
 75 
 
 withm a mile of the family seat. He became a very 
 respectable and extremely popular man. Ho was sin- 
 gularly hospitable, and built a new wing, containing a 
 large dinmg-room and six capital bedrooms, to tlie 
 Kectory, which had now much ore the appearance .,f 
 a country villa than a country parsonage. His brother, 
 succeeding to the estates, and residing chiefly in the 
 neighborhood, became, like his fatlier before him, mem- 
 ber for the county, and was one of the country gentlemen 
 most looked up to in the Honse of Commons. A sen- 
 sible and frequent, though uncommonly prosy speaker 
 singularly independent (for he had a clear fourteen 
 thousand pounds a year, and did not desire office), and 
 valumg himself on not being a party man, so that his 
 vote on critical questions was often a matter of great 
 doubt, and therefore of great moment, — Sir John 
 Merton gave considerable importance to the Reverend 
 Charles Merton. The latter kept up all the more select 
 of his old London acquaintances; and few country 
 houses, at certain seasons of the year, were filled more 
 aristocratically than the pleasant Rectory-house Mr 
 Merton, indeed, contrived to make the Hall a reservoir 
 for the Parsonage, and periodically drafted off the elite 
 of the visitors at the former to spend a few days at the 
 latter. This was the more easily done as his brother 
 was a widower, and his conversation was all of one sort 
 -the state of the nation and the agricultural interest.' 
 Mr. Merton was upon very friendly terms with his 
 brother: looked after the property in the absence of 
 bir John; kept up the family interest; was an excel- 
 lent electioneerer, a good speaker at a pinch, an able 
 magistrate, -a man, in short, most useful in the 
 county. On the whole, he was more popular than his 
 brother, and almost as much looked up to. — perhaps 
 
76 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 si 
 
 because he was much less ostentatious. He had verv 
 good taste had the Keverend Charles Merton!-!^ 
 able plentiful, but plain; his manners affable to the 
 -H', though agreeably sycophantic to the high: and 
 bere was nothing about him that ever wounded self- 
 love To add to the attractions of his house, his wife 
 simple and good-tempered, could talk with anybody,' 
 take off the bores, and leave people to ho comfortable in 
 their own way; while he had a large family of fine 
 hildren, of all ages, that had long given easy and con- 
 stant^ excuse, under the name of « little children's par- 
 ties, for getting up an impromptu dance or a gynsv 
 dinner, - enlivening the neighborhood, in short. Caro- 
 line was the eldest; then came a son, attached to a for- 
 eign ministry, and another, who, though only nineteen 
 was a private secretary to one of our Indian satraps.' 
 The acquaintance of these young gentlemen, thus en- 
 gaged It was therefore Evelyn's misfortune to lose (he 
 advantage of cultivating. - a loss which both Mr. and 
 Mrs. Merton assured her was very much to be regretted 
 But to make up to her for such a privation, there were 
 two lovely little girls, one ten and the other seven years 
 old, who fell in love with Evelyn at first sight. Caro- 
 line was one of the beauties of the county, clever and 
 conversable, ' drew young men." and set the fashion to 
 young ladies, especially when she returned from spendine 
 tlie season with Lady Elizabeth. 
 It was a delightful family! 
 
 In person, Mr. Merton was of the middle height- 
 fair, and inclined to stoutness, with smdl features' ■ 
 beautifu teeth, and great suavity of address. Mindful 
 still of the time when he had been « about town " he 
 was very particular in his dres.s. His black coat, neatly 
 relieved in the evening by a white under-waistcoat. and 
 
aro- 
 
 ALICE; 017, THE MVSTi:Rir:s. 
 
 II 
 
 77 
 
 3af t^Lts""?; ^f ^•^' with plain studs of 
 po ished sho : ^ "'^"■^"\ t''^^-^^^^. and elaborately 
 polished shoes (he was good-humuredly vain of his fepf 
 and hands) - won for him the co.nln praL of the 
 dandies (who occasionally honored him wi'th a vidt , 
 trton vr^''^"' ''^V^'^'' l"-laughter)."tha o 
 
 iteverenci Glia les Merton, rector of Merton, brother of 
 Sir John and possessor of an income that what wi 
 "8 nch hving, his wife's fortune, and his wnflh eh 
 was not inconsiderable, amounted to between four and 
 fivethou d ,„,3.^ year, .-which income, mlged 
 with judgment as M^ell as liberality, could n^t faif to 
 
 eTcVoVb-";" 1' ''''' ''''''^'^' ^his world th 
 
 S when 1 ^n T"""'' ^'" ''''- Caroline was 
 
 r ig^^t ;vhen .he told Evelyn that her papa was verv 
 
 different from a mere country oarson ^ 
 
 Now, this gentleman could not fail to see all the claims 
 
 hat Evelyn might fairly advance upon t],e este m nlT 
 
 the veneration, of himself andfannly: a young bea 2 ' 
 
 with a fortune of about a quarter of a Lllifn w s'l 
 
 phenomenon that might fairly be calle.I celestia Ser 
 
 VaTgrave -an engagement which might be broken- so 
 hat as he interpreted it, the roorst that could Wen 
 
 ster of "sti '" "" '' "^"^ ^'^ ^''^ -^ "-4 Mi- 
 st of Stable, a peer of the r«alm. But she was per- 
 
 m 'and ^; "r ' T ^'""^^ -^'^' ^' ^he could Z 
 
 c^uTd It 1 Z 'T "^'^ P^^^^^P^ the attache, if 
 
 lie cDuld get leave of absence ? - Mr. Merton was oo 
 
 .en^.ble to pnrsue that thought further for the prlsent 
 The good man was greatly shocked at the too familiar 
 
 * I 
 i M 
 
 i 
 
78 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 manner in which Mrs. Merton spoke to this high-fated 
 heiress; at Evelyn's travelling so far without her own 
 maid; at her very primitive wardrobe, —poor, ill-used 
 child! Mr. Merton was a connoisseur in ladies' dress. 
 It was quite painful to see that tlie unfortunate girl had 
 been so neglected. Lady Vargravc must be a very 
 strange person. He inquired compassionately whether 
 she was allowed any pocket-money ? And finding, to his 
 relief, that in that respect Miss Cameron was munifi- 
 cently supplied, he suggested that a proper Abigail 
 should be immediately engaged; tliat proper orders to 
 Madame Devy should be immediately transmitted to 
 London, with one of Evelyn's dresses as a pattern for 
 nothing but length and breadth. He almost stamped 
 with vexation when he he»'..i that Evelyn had been 
 placed in one of the neat li •, ;Moms generally appro- 
 priated to young lady visitora 
 
 "She is quite contented, r/iV scar Mr, Merton: she is 
 80 simple ; she has not been brought up in the style you 
 think for. " 
 
 " Mrs. Merton," said the rector, with great solemnity, 
 "Miss Cameron may know no better now; but what 
 will she think of us hereafter? It is my maxim to 
 recollect what people will be, and show them that re- 
 spect which may leave pleasing impressions when they 
 have it in their power to show us civility in return." 
 
 With many apologies, which quite overwhelmed poor 
 Evelyn, she was transferred from the little chamber, 
 with its French bed and bamboo-colored wash-hand 
 stand, to an apartment with a buhl wardrobe and a four- 
 post bed with green silk curtains, usually appropriated to 
 the regular Christmas visitant, the Dowager Countess of 
 Chipperton: a pretty morning-room communicated with 
 the sleeping apartment, and thence a private staircase 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 79 
 
 conducted into the gardens. The whole family were 
 duly impressed and re-impressed with her importance 
 No queen could bo more made of. Evelyn mistook it 
 all for pure kin.lness, and returned the hospitality with 
 an aifection that extended to the whole fan.ily, Init par- 
 ticularly to the two little girls and a beautiful black 
 spaniel Her dresses came down from London, her 
 Abigail arrived; the bulil wardrobe was duly filled — 
 and Evelyn at last lo.rned that it is a fine thing to be 
 rich. An account of all these proceedings was forwarded 
 to Lady \argravo, in a long an.l most complacent letter 
 by the rector himself. Tlie answer was short, but il 
 contented the excellent clergyman; for it approved of 
 all he had d.me, and begge<l that Miss Cameron might 
 have everything that seemed proper to her station. 
 
 By the same post came two letters to Evelyn herself 
 — one from Lady Yargrave, one from the curate. Thev 
 transported her from the fine room and the buhl ward- 
 robe to the cottage and the lawn ; and the fine Abigail 
 when she came to dress her young lady's hair, found her 
 weeping. 
 
 It was a matter of great regret to the rector that it 
 was that time of year when - precisely because the 
 country is mo.st beautiful _ every one worth knowing is 
 
 7"; l'^^' ^"^''"''"' "''^' «t^«y «"^«t« fo^'Hd their 
 way to the Rectory for a day or two, and still there were 
 some aristocratic old families in the neighborhood, who 
 never went up to London ; so that tw, days in the week 
 the ..ctors wine flowed, the whist-tables were set out. 
 and the piano called into requisition. 
 . ^''^^y'' - *h^ object of universal attention and admira- 
 tion - was put at her ease by her station itself; for good 
 manners come like an instinct to thn.e on whom the 
 world smiles. Insensibly she acquired self-possession 
 
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80 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYCTERIES, 
 
 .,,«, 
 
 and the smoothness of society; and if her childlike play- 
 fulness broke out from all conventional restraint, it only 
 made more charming and brilliant the great heiress, 
 whose delicate and fairy cast of beauty so well became 
 her graceful abandon of manner, and who looked so 
 unequivocally ladylike to the eyes that rested on Madame 
 Devy's blondes and satins. 
 
 Caroline was not so gay as she had been at the cottage. 
 Something seemed to Aveigh upon her spirits; she was 
 often moody and thoughtful. She was the only one in 
 the family not good-tempered ; and her peevish replies to 
 her parents, when ho visitor imposed a check on the 
 family circle, inconceivably pained Evelyn, and greatly 
 contrasted the flow of spirits which distinguished her 
 when she found somebody worth listening tj. Still 
 Evelyn — who, where she once liked, found it difficult 
 to withdraw regard — sought to overlook Caroline's 
 blemishes, and to persuade herself of a thousand good 
 qualities below the surface; and her generous nature 
 found constant opportunity of venting itself in costly 
 gifts, selected from the London parcels with which the 
 officious Mr. Merton relieved the monotony of the 
 Rectory. These gifts Caroline could not refuse without 
 paining her young friend. She took them reluctantly ; 
 for, to do her justice, Caroline, though ambitious, was 
 not mean, 
 
 Thus time passed in the Rectory, in gay variety and 
 constant entertainment; and all things combined to spoil 
 the heiress, if, indeed, goodness ever is spoiled by kind- 
 ness and prosperity. Is it to the frost or to the sun- 
 shine that the flower opens its petals, or the fruit ripens 
 from the blossom ? 
 
ALICE: OR. THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 81 
 
 • il 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 How aweet these solitary places are — 
 
 Rod. 
 
 Peci. What strange music 
 
 Was tliat we heard afar off i 
 Curio. We 've told you what i.e is, what time we 've sought him - 
 
 His nature and his name. ^ ' 
 
 Beaujiont AND Fletcher : The Pilgrim. 
 
 One day, as the ladies were seated in Mrs Merton'a 
 niorning-rooin, Evelyn, who had been stationed by 
 the window hearing the little Cecilia go through tl/e 
 French verbs, and had just finished that agreeable 
 task, exclaimed, — 
 
 "Bo tell me to whom that old house belongs, with the 
 picturesque gable-end and Gothic turrets: there just 
 peeping through the trees, _ I have always forgot to ask 
 
 jfyJxX* 
 
 ,."^^! "S^ ,^.^^' ^i«« Cameron," said Mrs. Merton, 
 that IS Burleigh. Have you not been there? Ho v 
 stupid in Caroline not to show it to you! It is one of 
 the lions of the place. It belongs to a man you have 
 often heard of, — Mr. Maltravers. " 
 
 "Indeed!" cried Evelyn; and she ga^ed with new 
 jnteres on the gray, melancholy pile, as the sunshine 
 brought It into strong contrast with the dark pines 
 around it. « And Mr. Maltravers himself - ? » 
 
 "Is still abroad, I believe; though I did hear, the 
 other day, that he was shortly expected at Burleigh. 
 It is a curious old place, though much neglected. I 
 believe, indeed, it has not been furnished since the time 
 
 6 
 
 ' 
 
82 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 of Charles I, (Cissy, my love, don't stoop so.) Very 
 gloomy, in my opinion; and not any fine room in the 
 house, except the library, which was once a chapel. 
 However, people come miles to see it." 
 
 "Will you go there to-day?" said Caroline, lan- 
 guidly. " It is a very pleasant walk througli the glebe- 
 land and the wood, — not above half a mile by the 
 footpath. " 
 
 " I should like it so much. " 
 
 "Yes," said Mrs. Merton; "and you had better go 
 before he returns, —he is so strange. He does not 
 allow it to be seen when he is down. But, indeed, he 
 has only been once at the old place since he was of age. 
 (Sophy, you will tear Miss Cameron's scarf to pieces; 
 do be quiet, child.) That was before he was a great 
 man, — he was then very odd: saw no society; only 
 dined once with us, though Mr. Merton paid him every 
 attention. They show the room in which he wrote his 
 books. " 
 
 " I remember him very well, though I was i but 
 a child," said Caroline, — " a handsome, thoughtful 
 face. " 
 
 " Did you think so, my dear ? Fine eyes and teeth, cer- 
 tainly, and a commanding figure, — but nothing more." 
 
 " Well," said Caroline, " if you like to go, Evelyn, 
 I am at your service." 
 
 " And — I — Evy, dear — 1 — may go," said Cecilia, 
 clinging to Evelyn. 
 
 "And me too," lisped Sophia, the youngest hope, — 
 " there 's such a pretty peacock. " 
 
 "Oh, yes, they may go, Mrs. Merton; we'll take 
 such care of them." 
 
 "Very well, my dear; Miss Cameron quite spoils 
 you. " 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 83 
 
 Evelyn tripped away to put on her bonnet, and the 
 children ran after her, clapping their hands, -they 
 comd not bear to lose sight of her for a moment. 
 
 Caroline," said Mrs. Merton, affectionately, "are 
 you not well? You have seemed pale lately, and not 
 in your usual spirits." 
 
 "Oh, yes, I 'ra well enough," answered Caroline 
 rather peevishly; "but this place is so dull now -I 
 very provoking that Lady Elizabeth does not go to 
 London this year." 
 
 "My dea. it will be gayer, I hope, in July, when 
 the races at Knaresdean begin; and Lor-i Vargrave has 
 promised to come." 
 
 " Has Lord Vargrave written to you latelv 1 " 
 "No, my dear." ^ 
 
 "Very odd." 
 
 " Does Evelyn ever talk of him ? " 
 ^^"Not much," said Caroline, rising and quitting the 
 
 It was a most cheerful, exhilarating day, - the close 
 of sweet May: the hedges were white with blossoms; 
 a light breeze rustled the young leaves; the butterflies 
 had ventured forth, and the children chased them over 
 the grass, as Evelyn and Caroline, who walked much 
 too slow for her companion (Evelyn longed to run), 
 followed them soberly towards Burleigh. 
 
 They passed the glebe-fields; and a little bridge 
 thrown over a brawling rivulet, conducted them into 
 a wood. 
 
 "This stream," said Caroline, "forms the boundary 
 between my uncle's estates and those of Mr. Maltravers 
 It must be very unpleasant to so proud a man as Mr 
 Maltravers is said to be, to have the land of another 
 proprietor so near his house. He could hear my uncle's 
 
84 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 gun from his very drawing-room. However, Sir John 
 takes care not to molest him. On the other side, th(> 
 Burleigh estates extend for some miles; indeed, Mr. 
 Maltravers is the next great proprietor to my uncle in 
 this part of the county. Very stiange tliat he does not 
 marry! There, now you can sec the house." 
 
 The mansion lay somewhat low, with hanging woods 
 in the rear; and the old-fashioned fish-ponds gleaming 
 in the sunshine, and overshadowed hy gigantic trees, 
 increased the venerable stillness of its aspect. Ivy and 
 innumerable creepers covered one side of the house ; and 
 long weeds cumbered the deserted road. 
 
 " It is sadly neglected," said Caroline, "and was so, 
 even in the last owner's life. Mr. Maltravers inherits 
 the place from his mother's uncle. We may as well 
 enter the house by the private way : the front entrance 
 is kept locked up." 
 
 Winding by a path that conducted into a flower- 
 garden, divided from the park by a ha-ha, over which 
 a plank and a small gate, rusting off its hinges, were 
 placed, Caroline led the way towards the building. At 
 this point of view it presented a large bay-window that, 
 by a flight of f^ur steps, led into the garden. On one 
 side rose a square, narrow turret, surmounted by a gilt 
 dome and quaint weathercock, below the architrave of 
 which was a oun-dial, set in the stonework; and another 
 dial stood in the garden, with the common and beautiful 
 motto, — 
 
 " Non numero horas, nisi serenas! " * 
 
 On the other side of the b'ly-window, a huge buttress 
 cast its mass of shadow. There was something in the 
 appearance of the whole place that invited to contem- 
 
 * I number not the hours, unless sunny. 
 
ALICE; OK, TIIK MYSTEKIKS. 55 
 
 spot of !."""? ^P""°-^>'"^ ««"1J not divest t e 
 wnetiier to the young, to whom there is a luxury in thn 
 vague .entunent of melancholy, or to those X'lavn. 
 known real griefs sppIt f^r L i . ' "^^'"8 
 
 and memorv T?' , , , '"°^^"' '" meditation 
 ana memory. Ihe low, lead-colored door, set deep in 
 th urre , was locked, and the bell beside it b ke^ 
 Caohne turned nnpatiently away. « We must go romd 
 rrntart'^"^^^-"-^^^^^^-^^^-'^eXf 
 
 Ceciuf '' ^"''''^•" ""'^ ^'''^''''' ^"^ '^' '''' f-^owed 
 Evelyn now stood within the library of which Mrs 
 Srietth^'^'r- '' ^^^^ ^ '^''^ --"' «blt^% 
 
 se to the cornice of the ceiling, and took up orstdl 
 
 set and bv fl 7"'' '" "^"'^'^ *^^ narrow panes were 
 set and by the glass stained with armorial bearings in 
 the upper part of. the casement. The bookcases ton 
 
 I^th ^'id'^^"' r' ^^'^^^ - --^ abso'rtXligh : 
 
 The room was almost disproportionably lofty the 
 celling, elaborately coved, and richly carved w th' .rn 
 
 T^r fi , ^''" '^'^^^^^'l *« a religious purpose 
 
 Two fireplaces, with high chimney-pieces of Tk Tn 
 vhich were inserted two portraits, broke the syZltly 
 
86 
 
 ALICE ; OR, THK MYSTKIUES. 
 
 of the tall bookcast'.i. In one of these fireplaces were 
 half-burnt logs; and a huge armchair, with a small 
 reading-desk beside it, seemed to bespeak the recent 
 occupation of the room. On the fourth side, opposite 
 the window, the wall was covered with faded tai^estry, 
 representing the meeting of Solomon and the Queen of 
 Sheba; the arras was nailed over doors on either hand; 
 the chinks between the door and the wall serving, in 
 one instance, to cut off in the middle his wise Majesty, 
 who was making a low bow ; while in the other it took 
 the ground from under the wanton queen, just as she 
 was descending from her chariot. 
 
 Near the window stood a grand piano, the only 
 modern article in the room save one of the portraits, 
 presently to be described. On all this Evelyn gazed 
 silently and devoutly: she had naturally that reverence 
 for genius which is common to the enthusiastic and 
 young; and there is, even to the dullest, a certain in- 
 terest in the homes of those who have implanted within 
 us a new thought. But here there was, she imagined, 
 a rare and singular harmony between the place and the 
 mental characteristics of the owner. She fancied she 
 now better understood the shadowy and metaphysical 
 repose of thought that had distinguished the earlier 
 writings of Maltravers, — the writings composed or 
 planned in this still retreat. 
 
 But what particularly caught her attention was one 
 of the two portraits that adorned the mantelpieces. The 
 further one was attired in the rich and fanciful armor of 
 the time of Elizabeth; the head bare, the helmet on 
 a table on which the hand rested. It was a handsome 
 and striking countenance ; and an inscription announced 
 it to be a Digby , an ancestor of Maltravers. 
 
 But the other was a beautiful girl of about eighteen. 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 87 
 
 m the now almost antiquated dress of forty years ago 
 The features were delicate, but the colors somewhat 
 faded, and there was something mournful in the ex- 
 pression. A silk curtain drawn on one side seemed to 
 denote how carefully it was prized by the possessor. 
 Evelyn turned for explanation to her cicerone. 
 " This is the second time I have seen that picture " 
 said Caroline; "for it is only by great entreaty, and as 
 a mysterious favor, that the old housekeeper draws aside 
 the veil. Some touch of sentiment in Maltravcrs makes 
 him regard it as sacred. It is the picture of his mother 
 before she married; she died in giving him birth." 
 
 Evelyn sighed; how well she understood the senti- 
 ment which seemed to Caroline so eccentric! The coun- 
 tenance fascinated her; the eye seemed to follow her as 
 she turned. 
 
 ^^ " As a proper pendant to this picture," said Caroline, 
 he ought to have dismissed the effigies of yon war- 
 like gentleman, and replaced it by one of poor Lady 
 Florence Lascelles, for whose loss he is said to have 
 quitted his country; but perhaps it was the loss of her 
 fortune. " 
 
 " How can you say so? Fie! " cried Evelyn, with a 
 burst of generous indignation. 
 
 "Ah, my dear, you heiresses have a fellow-feeling 
 with each other! Nevertheless, clever men are less 
 sentimental than we deem them. Heigho ! — this quiet 
 room gives me the spleen, I fancy." 
 
 " Dearest Evy," whispered Cecilia, " I think you have 
 a look of that pretty picture, only you are much prettier. 
 Do take off your bonnet; your hair just falls down like 
 hers. " 
 
 Evelyn shook her head gravely; but the spoiled child 
 hastily untied the ribbons, and snatched away the hat, 
 
 i 
 
88 
 
 ALICE; OR, THK MYSTKRIES. 
 
 and Evelyn's sunny ringlets fell rlown in beautiful dis- 
 orrler. There was no resemblance between Evelyn and 
 the portrait, oxc(!i)t in the color of the hair, and the care- 
 less fashion it now by chance assumed. Yet Evelyn 
 was pleased to think that a likene.^s did exist, though 
 Caroline declared it was a most unfluttering compliment. 
 " I don't wonder," said the latter, changing the theme, 
 — "I don't wonder Mr. Maltravers lives so little in this 
 * Castle Dull ; * yet it might be much improved, Frencli 
 windows and plate glass, for instance; and if those lum- 
 bering bookslielves and horrid old chimney-pieces were 
 removed, and the ceiling painted white and gold, like 
 that in my uncle's saloon, and a rich, lively paper, in- 
 stead of the tapestry, it would really make a very fine 
 ball-room." 
 
 "Let us have a dance here now," cried Cecilia. 
 "Come, stand up, Sophy;" and the children began to 
 practise a waltz step, tumbling over each other, and 
 laughing in full glee. 
 
 " Hush, hush! " said Evelyn, softly. She had never 
 before checked the children's mirth, and she could not 
 tell why she did so now. 
 
 " I suppose the old butler has been entertaining the 
 bailiff here," said Caroline, pointing to the remains of 
 the fire. 
 
 "And is this the room he chiefly inhabited, -- the 
 room that you say they show as his?" 
 
 " Xo; that tapestry door to the right leads into a little 
 study whore he wrote." So saying, Caroline tried to 
 open the door, but it was locked from within. She then 
 opened the other door, which showed a long wainscoted 
 passage, hung with rusty pikes, and a few breastplates 
 of the time of the Parliamentary Wars. "This leads 
 to the main body of the house," said Caroline, "from 
 
ALICE; OH, TlIK MVSTF.KIES. 
 
 89 
 
 wliich the room wo are now in and the little stmly are 
 completely detached, having, as y,m know, hmm the 
 chapel in Popish times. 1 have heard that Sir Ken. Ini 
 Dighy, an ancestral connection of the piesent owner, 
 first converted them into their present use, and, in 
 return, built the village church on the other side of the 
 park. " 
 
 Sir Kenelm Digby, the old Cavalier philosopher ! — a 
 new name of interest to consecrate the place! Evelyn 
 could have lingered all day in the room, and perhaps 
 as an excuse for a longer sojourn, hastened to the piano: 
 It was open; she ran her fairy fingers over the keys, 
 and the sound from the untuned and neglected instru- 
 ment thrilled wild and spirit-like through the melancholy 
 chamber. 
 
 "Oh, do sing us something, Evy," cried Cecilia, 
 running up to, and drawing a chair to, the instrument. 
 
 "Do, Evelyn," said Caroline, languidly; "it will 
 serve to bring one of the servants to us, and save us 
 a journey to the offices." 
 
 It was just what Evelyn wished. Some verses which 
 her mother especially loved — verses written by Mal- 
 travers upon returning, after absence, to his own home 
 — had rushed into her minJ. ..-. she had touched the 
 keys. They ware appropriaie to the place, and had 
 heen beautifully set to music. So the children hushed 
 themselves, and nestled at her feet; and, after a little 
 prelude, keeping the accompaniment under, that the 
 spoiled instrument might not mar the sweet words and 
 sweeter voice, she began the song. 
 
 Meanwhile, in the adjoining room, the little study 
 which Caroline had spoken of, sat the owner of the 
 house. He had returned suddenly and unexpectedly 
 the previous niglit. The old steward was in attendance 
 
 il 
 
 i\ i. 
 
90 
 
 ALICE ; OK, Tllb: MYSTEKIKS. 
 
 li 
 
 ttt the moment, full of apoli)j,'ios, conf,Miitulatioii9, and 
 gossip; and Maltnivcr.s, grown a storn and hauglity man, 
 was already impatiently turning away, when he heard 
 the sudden sound of the children's laugliter and loud 
 voices in the room heyond. Maltravers frowned. 
 
 "What impertinence is this?" said lie, in a tone 
 that, though very calm, made tlie steward quake in his 
 shoes. 
 
 " I don't know, really, your honor; there be so many 
 grand folks come to see the house in the line weather, 
 that — " 
 
 " And you permit your master's house to be a raree- 
 show? You do well, sir." 
 
 " If your honor were more amongst us, there might be 
 more discipline like," said the steward, stoutly; "but 
 no one in my time has cared so little for the old place as 
 those it belongs to." 
 
 " Fewer words with me, sir," said Maltravers, haugh- 
 tily; "and now go and inform those people that I am 
 returned, and wish for no guests but those I invite 
 myself. " 
 " Sir! " 
 
 " Do you not hear mo 1 Say that if it so please them, 
 these old ruins are my property, and are not to be jobbed 
 out to the insolence of public curiosity. Go, sir." 
 
 " But — I beg pardon, your honor, — if they be great 
 folks—?" 
 
 "Great folks! — great! Ay, there it is. Why, if 
 they be great folks, they have great houses of their 
 own, Mr. Justis." 
 
 The steward stared. " Perhaps, your honor," he put 
 in deprecatingly, "they be Mr, Merton's family: they 
 come very often when the London gentlemen are with 
 them.''' 
 
AUCK; OH, TlIK MYSTERIES. 91 
 
 - Merton ! - oh , the ringing parson. Harkyo ! ono 
 word moro with ,no, sir, an.l you quit my 8orvico to- 
 morrow. 
 
 Mr. Justis lifto.1 his cyos and hands to heaven; but 
 thero was something in his master's voice ard look 
 which checked reply, uud ho turned slowly to the door 
 when a voice of such heavenly sweetness was heard' 
 without that it arrested his own step, and made the 
 stern Maltravers start in his seat. He hehl up his hand 
 to he s eward to delay his errand, and listened, charmed 
 and spell-hound. His own words came on his ear _ 
 words long unfamiliar to hira, and at first but imper- 
 fectly remembered ; words connected with the early ane. 
 virgin years of poetry and aspiration; words that were 
 as the ghosts of thoughts now far too gentle for his altered 
 soul He bowed down his head, and the dark shade left 
 nis brow. 
 
 The song ceased. Maltra irers moved with a siL'h and 
 his eyes rested on the form of the steward with his liand 
 on the door. 
 
 ra'vd*" ^ ^'""^ ^°"' ^°"°''' ™"""'^^ ^ " ^^'^ ^'- *^"^"«' 
 " No; take care for the future : leave me now " 
 
 to bl'th'^"'"' ™''^' "''" ^'^' "'"'^ *^'"' ^'" P^^^^«^' t°°k 
 "Well," thought he, as he departed, "how foreign 
 parts do spoil a gentleman !- so mild as he was once! 
 I must botch up the accounts, I see, -the squire has 
 grown sharp." ^ 
 
 As Evelyn concluded her song, she, whose charm 
 in singing was that she sang from the heart, was so 
 touched by the melancholy music of the air and words 
 that her voice faltered, and the last line died inandiblv 
 on her lips. "^ 
 
92 
 
 ALICE ; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 The children sprang up and kissed her. 
 
 "Oh," cried Cecilia, "there is the beautiful pea* 
 cock!" And there, indeed, on the steps without, per- 
 haps attracted by the music, stood the picturesque bird. 
 The children ran out to greet their old favorite, who was 
 extremely tame; and presently Cecilia returned. 
 
 " Oh, Carry, do see what beautiful horses are coming 
 up the park! " 
 
 Caroline, who was a good rider, and fond of hcses, 
 and whose curiosity was always aroused by things con- 
 nected with show and station, suffered the little girl to 
 draw her into the garden. Two grooms, each mounted 
 on a horse of the pure Arabian breed , and each leading 
 another, swathed and bandaged, were riding slowly up 
 the road; and Caroline was so attracted by the novel 
 appearance of the animals in a place so deserted that 
 she followed the children towards them, to learn who 
 could possibly be their enviable owner. Evelyn, for- 
 gotten for the moment, remained alone. She was pleased 
 at being so, and once more turned to the picture which 
 had so attracted her before. The mild eyes fixed on her 
 with an expression that recalled to her mind her own 
 mother. 
 
 "And," thought she, as she gazed, " this fair creature 
 did not live to know the fame of her son, — to rejoice 
 in his success, or to soothe his grief. And he, that son, 
 — a disappointed and solitary exile in distant lands, 
 while strangers stand within his deserted hall ! " 
 
 The irarges she had conjured up moved and absorbed 
 her, and she continued to stand before the picture, 
 gazing upward with moistened eyes. It was a beauti- 
 ful vision as she thus stood, with her delicate bloom, 
 her luxuriant hair (for the hat was not yet replaced) , 
 her elastic form, so full of youth and health and hope, 
 
alick; or, the mystehiks. 93 
 
 -the living form besido the faded canvas of the dead 
 once youthful, tender, lovely as herself! Evelyn turne,! 
 away with a sigh; the sigh was re-echoed yet more 
 deeply. She started : the door that led to the study was 
 opened, and in the aperture was the figure of a man in 
 llie prime of life. His hair, still luxuriant as in his 
 ear lest youth, though darkened by the suns of the East 
 curled over a forehead of majestic expanse. The higli' 
 and proud features, that well heca' x stature above the 
 ordinary standard; the pale but uonzed complexion- 
 the arge eyes of deepest blue, shaded by dark brows 
 and lashes; and, more than all, that expression at once 
 of passion and repose which characterizes the old Italian 
 portraits, and seems to denote the inscrutable power 
 that experience imparts to intellect, _ constituted aii 
 ensemble which, if not faultlessly I,andsome. was emi- 
 nently striking, and formed at once to interest and com- 
 mand. It was a face once seen, never to be forgotten- 
 It was a face that had long, half unconsciously, haunted 
 ^velyns young dreams; it was a face she had seen 
 before, though, then younger and milder and fairer it 
 wore a different aspect. ' 
 
 Evelyn stood rooted to the spot, feeling herself blush 
 to her very tempks,_an enchanting picture of bashful 
 confusion and innocent alarm. 
 
 " Do not let me regret my return," said the stranger 
 approaching after a short pause, and with much gentle- 
 ness in his voice and smile, " and think that the owner 
 IS doomed to scare away the fair spirits that haunted the 
 spot in his absence." 
 
 "The owner!" repeated Evelyn, almost inaudibly, 
 and in increased embarrassment; " are you then the — 
 the — " 
 
 "Yes," courteously interrupted the stranger, seeing 
 
94 
 
 ALICE; Oil, THK MYSTERIES. 
 
 ' J il 
 
 m 
 
 r Wmi 
 
 I s 
 
 her confusion; "my name is Maltraveis; and I am to 
 blame for not having informed you of my sudden re- 
 turn, or for now trespassing on your presence. But 
 you see my excuse;" and he pointed to the instru- 
 ment. " You have the magic that draws even the 
 serpent from his hole. But you are not alone ? " 
 
 "Oh, no! no, indeed! Miss Merton is with me. I 
 know not where she is gone. I will seek her." 
 
 "Miss Merton! You are not, then, one of that 
 family ? " 
 
 " No, only a guest. I will find her, — she must 
 apologize for us. We were not aware that you were 
 here, — indeed we were not." 
 
 " That is a cruel excuse," said Maltravers, smiling 
 at her eagerness ; and the smile and the look reminded 
 hei yet more forcibly of the time when he had carried her 
 in his arms, and soothed her suffering, and praised 
 her courage, and pressed the kiss almost of a lover on her 
 hand. At that thought slie blushed yet more deeply, 
 and yet more eagerly turned to escape. 
 
 Maltravers did not seek to detain her, but silently 
 followed her steps. She had scarcely gained the window 
 before little Cecilia scampered in, crying, — 
 
 "Only think! Mr. Maltravers has come back, and 
 brought such beautiful horses! " 
 
 Cecilia stopped abruptly as she caught sight of the 
 stranger; and the next moment Caroline herself ap- 
 peared. Her worldly experience and quick sense saw 
 immediately what had chanced; and she hastened to 
 apologize to Maltravers, and congratulate him on his 
 return, with an ease that astonished poor Evelyn, and 
 by no means seemed appreciated by Maltravers himself. 
 He replied with brief and haughty courtesy. 
 
 " My father," continued Caroline, " will be so glad to 
 
ALICE; 0J{, THE MYSTERIES. 95 
 
 hear you are come back. He will hasten to pay you 
 hi espects. and apologize for his truants. Butlhlve 
 not formally n.troduced you to my fellow-offender Mv 
 Jear, let me present to you one whom fame has alreadv 
 made known to you. - Mr. Maltravers. Miss Can ton"^ 
 
 Jve to",: r "'' 'T' ^"^^ *'""8^ «h^ colored, and 
 l!\V^ r f ''''^'' ^ half-smile brought out the dim- 
 ples that played round her arcli lips 
 
 ;; But you do not remember me? " added Maltravers 
 Oh, yes!" exclaimed Evelvn wJfh o jj • 
 pulse, and then checked herseTf.^' '"'^'^''^ ^"^■ 
 
 Caroline came to her friend's relief 
 
 "What is this? You surprise me; where did von 
 ever see Mr. Maltravers before ? " ^^^ 
 
 "I can answer that question, Miss Merton. When 
 Miss Cameron was but a child, as high as my Tittle 
 friend here, an accident on the road procured me " 
 
 displayed left an impression on me not worn out even 
 
 travet t' ~^".f "7 "^ "^^* ^^^^"'" ^-^^'^^^^ Mal- 
 travers, in a muttered voice, as to himself. « Hom 
 
 strange a thing life is!" 
 
 "Well," said Miss Merton, " we must intrude on you 
 no more, you have so much to do. I am sorry s'r 
 John IS not down to welcome you; but 1 hope we sha 
 be good neighbors. Au revoir / " P ^e snail 
 
 And fancying herself most charming, Caroline 
 bowed, smiled, and walked off with her trLin Md- 
 
96 
 
 ALICE; OK, TUK MYSTKKIES. 
 
 travers paused irresolute If [• vdyu liad looked back, 
 he would have acconipauicd Uieui Lome; but Evelyn 
 did not look back — and ho stayed. 
 
 Miss Merton rallied lier young friend unmercifidly 
 as they walked homeward, and slie extracted a very brief 
 and imperfect history of the adventure that had formed 
 the first acquaintance, and of the interview by which 
 it had been renewed. But Evelyn did not heed her, 
 and the moment they arrived at the Rectory, she has- 
 tened to shut herself in her room, and write the account 
 of her adventure to her mother. How often, in her 
 girlish reveries, had she thought of that incident, that 
 stranger! And now, by such a chance, and after so 
 many years, to meet the Unknown by his own hearth; 
 and that Unknown to be Maltravers! It was as if a 
 dream had come true. While she was yet musing, — 
 and the letter not yet begun, — she heard the sound of 
 joy-bells in the distance. At once she divined the 
 cause; it was the welcome of the wanderer to his solitary 
 home. 
 
"I 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 97 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Maisenconnaissantvotrec.n.iition natnrelle u... ^ 
 lui sout propres. et ne nretP.wIP, " "'^"®' "^^^ '^es moyens qui 
 
 que par celle qui v„us faKi 1 !! ZJT''' ''''' »"« -"*'« voie 
 
 drudge and' I i td'St l^f ™"^''' ~" 
 had plu„„ed amo„,rf i, themselves ,n vain, ho 
 
 mevalba°b,ri,„, ™ T "'""■'='' ""l»™ed from pri- 
 
 passed,td rticlwe r 7" u'""*'" "•■'* >-= " 
 by wa y vidian ,ii . °™''^ ""'>' "« P'««ved 
 forawhiirfeTthe r;'^ "■■"»-'». had forced him. 
 
 «-. h1 c ;re rra-diir':! T'^-f - 
 
 his intellect and hi, nl,„ ■ i miictive; hut 
 
 equals with a m nd lalntuTtt ^ *° ™'" "' "» 
 and vast experience/rnd" ft ™ h T,r °' ° ™"°™ 
 n»al as that whici, on iZZXrlZ'Z "°T^ 
 assured the restless specnklLf "^ V Catacombs, 
 ™i'.on.u„.a„li,eanS::!l:;;\f„,„^---^*e 
 
 Whirr p:;ti:ti,7'r/ .r "-■ - «■« -» 
 
 ■va, .han b, *a. which'ri%X,°.r.r '' "" »"»' 
 
9S 
 
 ALICE; oil. TUB MVSTHIirES. 
 
 Ernral MaUrav.TB, ,„.,,.,■ „ f,„lil„,. 
 "Immct,,,-, falling ,l,„t h, ,,,„,, '"' ™'"''''""'' 
 
 tt«w„ !„,„ „„„„ t „,„„ „ ko * ""'W 
 
 Plox Tn,r' '',n ■7""''""' ''■"'■'*'• ■"<>"= ■■"niaMo and com- 
 
 itv u'lurl, ,.»« 1 '" ^••^""'"i vers this riual- 
 
 gifts still less to tin. vulgar commonplaces ^f b rtl 
 of ambition, of glory, of the hard business of uL ^s 
 
 1 
 I 
 t 
 k 
 t( 
 tc 
 
 I 
 
ALICE; OR. TIIJ.; MV.STKIUK.S. 
 
 . 99 
 
 own |m«,i,„„. II,. |„„i,,.,| „ »'™|U.»t« ov,.r l,i, 
 
 . • 1 hj ici()K(>i| Ulinil irA'ri.i ,w, *1 i 
 
 'Wnnst wi.os., attacks uv si „"'''' "'""">' 
 ^'•"cin,l that against lZ\ \7'' '"'"'''''"'• "" 
 
 '-"-If. intiu, It ;;;:\"'*r«'''^-''-'^^'t 
 
 through winch his Wul ? ? , ' ^" *'''" ^^^''' ««r«or 
 
 that it, had nJt . : . *:;^^^^^ 
 
 tho ordinary world Tho « 1 [ ''''^ "'*" " ^''J«««-' of 
 
 J- had passecl iv<nn ^f^:^,^'?: ^'^ ^-«"; -.d 
 
 to the brilliant citios of I ron nf' ''•'.' "'" ^'^^"^'^^ 
 "or his reason had ever -,! ? T" "' T'^''' '"« ^^^'^^t 
 «ions. Never agair ^ d he L "" r^'''"'^ ''^ ^'^ P- 
 tion. Had he dt/e so th ice TT. "'''""" '' "ff^ 
 fountain had flowed Zl'Z '^' ,? "'?:'' ^'"^ "'« 
 had returned to En»Mnd 1 ^"'''' '^'^P^' He 
 
 or with what into ' tii;;; J'::r?;i '^-'- -'-efore, 
 tering again upon tie oc^^'^Z T^'' '^'^ '' «- 
 perhaps. on,/the weS":;;: i^f r ^''"' ^*/^^' 
 familiar lonmcs anrt »l,„ * ""'"'"' ""<! i"'" 
 
 change. ttatU'gM ,i" iJS:;,""?"'"'' ""''- «' 
 l-e did not allow so un Zl « , f'° '""""■'""'i- But 
 
 annable, and which ;„;il"°: 7 °''° "'''°'' ''■'''" 
 noreaaing age and infinni?:' fh „1 [""''.''"VT "'^ 
 
 to persuade himsolf thnf L . , ,' '''"''''' ^^"g'^t 
 
 .0 a»nge hi, ^IXX':^:^^:;^ ^^t 
 
100 
 
 alick; or, thk mystkkiks. 
 
 nati v.. la>..l. To prove (.. l.i,n.s..lf tl.af. this was the case, 
 ho ha.l u.lon.U.,! at Dovw to In.rry at onco to Hurlei.rl, 
 and mordy writn to Clovchuul that h„ was r.tunu.l to' 
 "'"Kla.Hl. H„t his hoart would not suilVr hi,„ to oniov 
 lus cruol luxury of .s<>lf-„,ortilication, au.l his horsos' 
 homls worn turno.l to Hichn.ond, when within a stauo of 
 London. Ho ha,l spont two days with tho good old 
 man and thoso two days had so warmed and softiMird 
 his fednigs that l.o was .piit.. appallod at his own dero- 
 I.ct.on from lixcd principles! However, he went he- 
 fore Clevdand had time to discover that he was changed • 
 and the old man had promised to visit him sliortly 
 
 This, then, WHS the stat(. of Krn(^st :\I;dtravers at the 
 age of thirty -six, —an age in which frame and mind are 
 in thoir fullest perfection; an age in whi.di men begin 
 most keenly to feel that they are citizens. With all 
 his energies l.raced and strengtliened; with his mind 
 stored with profusest gifts; in the vigor of a constitu- 
 tion to which a hardy life had imparted a second and 
 fresher youth; so trained by stern experience as to 
 redeem, with an easy effort, all tlie deficiencies and 
 faults which had once resulted from too sensitive an 
 imagination, and too high a standard for human actions; 
 formed to render to his race the most brilliant and dur- 
 able service, and to secure to himself the happiness 
 which results from sobered fancy, a generous heart, 
 and an approving conscience, — hero was Ernest Mal- 
 travers, backed, too, by the appliances and gifts of birth 
 and fortune, perversely shutting up genius, life, and 
 soul in their own tliorny leaves, and refusing to serve 
 the fools and rascals, who were formed from the same 
 clay, and gifted by the same God. Morbid and morose 
 philosophy, begot by a proud spirit on a lonely heart I 
 
AJ.I(Ji;, 01{, Tiiio .MVfcJTEltlKS. 
 
 101 
 
 CIIAPTEIt V. 
 
 T'Ot such amonPHt iiH !is am u-iii;,,,, 1 i lm . 
 -ly f..r«n hour, rc4;„ o . ? ," " "'"f" "^'"'^'^ '^ "^ ^'^ 
 
 «t"Hl« u,,on tho . ,,irit wh r, i V "T •'''"^'"'"'^""•"' that 
 
 Z / """'' '"^"'•'^•^^■> ""t ""ly '>y the Mor- 
 
 ton fa.n.ly, l.„(, Uy s,.n.o of M.o nc.ig].lKH.i„g Ltry w hn 
 
 nood. In tins cuso, wl„.r., (ho proprietor was still 
 young, „n„,arrio.l, col.,0,rato,l, an.l han.Vsomo. tholn 
 
 and Evelyn wore \...t 1,^ ,,„,,,,•„, ^^ .vlucl he 
 former alone gave any .listinct reply, c.ro i .n's ac 
 count was, on the whole, gracious a„.I fJJ^^.'Zl 
 
 hire rZi ■""""""' ^" '^" '^''^ ^^'^^^"^" ^^'- 'i^i^^^^ 
 
 that Caroline was a very nulifforont portrait-painter. 
 
 n ther outshone the estahli.slnn.nt, nor interfered wih 
 l.e sportmg of his fellow-sauiros; and, on the l7o . 
 
 serve. Tune and his retirement from the busv scene 
 ong enough to cause him to he missed, not ir. oiouLh 
 for new favorites to mmnKr u; ^ , , ^ enough 
 civoriies to supply his place, had greatly served 
 
102 
 
 ALICK; OR, TIIK MYHTKlJIi;;-;. 
 
 to .....llow and ,.o„soli,l,Uo his ropulati..,,, ,u,.I Ins cotm- 
 
 ry wan pn.u.l to dai.n i.i.n. Tln.s (tho,.«h IVraltravors 
 
 ^>.>..M not l.av.. 1m,I„.v..,1 it, I.a.l an angol told l,im) ho 
 
 anmlot,.« of Ins porsonal hal.its, .,f Ins g..„orosity. in- 
 .lop.M..l.nco of spirit, and ocvntricity. ^voro told. iw,. 
 lyn hstcMUMl in rapt <l.digl,t to all: «ho had never paasod 
 «op oasantan evening; and sh., .s.nil.d almost gratef.d I v 
 on the rector who was a man that always followed 
 tlio stream, when lie said, with henigu affability " W.. 
 nnist really show our distingnishe.l neighbor every 
 attention -- we must bo indulgent to his little oddities 
 H,s politics aro' not mine, to be sure; but u man who 
 has a stake ,n the country has a right to his own opin- 
 ion, _ that was always my maxim; thank Heaven I 
 am a very moderate man. We must draw him anion^st 
 "«: It will be our own fault. I am sure, if he is Lt 
 quite domesticated at the Kectory. " 
 
 "With such attraction, -yes," said the thin curate 
 timidly bowing to the ladies. ' 
 
 " It would bo a nice match for Miss Caroline," whis- 
 
 The whist-tablos wore now set out, the music began, 
 — and Mai tra vers was left in peace 
 
 leigh. Maltravers was not at home. He left his card, 
 and a note of friendly respect, begging Mr. Maltravers 
 to waive ceremony, and dine with them the next day 
 Somewhat to the surprise of the rector, he found thai 
 tlio active spirit of Maltravers was already at work. 
 Ihe long-deserted grounds were filled with laborers- 
 he carpenters were busy at the fences; the house 
 .coked ahve and stirring; the grooms were exercising 
 
ALICK; ok, t„k MYSTliHiRg. ,q;{ 
 
 tl.e horses i„ tho park, -all I.,„,ok.,,....l U,. r..tur„ of 
 
 ho abHontoe. Thin h-mwu-mI to .I,.,.,,.. ,)„, AF^l 
 
 i- eo.no to r,.i,lo; „„., the roctor t .ul to^ T'" 
 
 '""1 waH i.l..a.s<.l at tl„, notion ^ Carol.n„, 
 
 ;;";.; ;v«re i„va„u. Th„;:z; j:;;,;::f, ;:-;■;'■ 
 
 1' '"B" """'l""". ""'I I', .lance i„ «,„ .vni,, T, 
 
 write letters Thr!j n ^' '""' ^" ''"' '•°'^'» *» 
 uuwrs. iju, cliiMrcn wore not sorrv fnr fi 
 
 appeared ' "*" ''*'''' *^"J strawberries 
 
 yeanuHl for playmates; she w s's^H t chn.lin f'" 
 sides, she was so fond of Cecili. II ^ '^'"^J'^' ''«- 
 with innocent delight to t 1, '". ^''^1 ^'''''''^ 
 had taken the carriag to <^e t^\T """'^ ^''^''' 
 turn with a carefuli;'coneea d t\ ;"."' ''^"'"' *« ^«- 
 cashes, and picture-books Bnt."^ toys. -dolls, 
 did not feel so childlTk' n ' Tf''' "' ''^''> '^^ 
 heart was away from the n, "'"'V'^' "^''^"^"^'' ^^- 
 -ile was at first Tntd'T^ L Xn^^'^"^'^^ 
 
 grass and E el,-: o e^Vhrtf /'^"^^^^^^ ^'^ ^'^^ 
 
 with much grav tv E w '^'' '"'^ ^^'^^ ^^em 
 
 gravity keep quiet, and be good children, 
 
104 
 
 ALl»2fe, OR, THK MYSTKUiEa. 
 
 knew how to givo ,,l,.a,suro: an.l L iTl . '^'" 
 
 -nted to Cecilia, that tho litt 1 n of I ,"" •''"■ 
 «"Joy the luxury of hein. ge„ ,"..„"; ^^ ""^'''* 
 jealousy the notable exl^dien / "',, ? ^""'"^'^ 
 suggested. " lottery wog 
 
 " Then Evy shall be Fortune!" cried CoriUn " 
 body W.11 be sorry to got anything f" , eW ' T-l 
 any one .discontented, Evy sha, 't ^ks w''~""' '' 
 
 IVrrs. Merton, whose motherly hear I , 
 
 ^von by Evelyn's kindness to tlJ i n ' ^«"»Pl«t«ly 
 her husband's lect,.r s ^^ w I Z^'"''"' ^"''^'^^ ^^I 
 
 ought to be, - amUhe llm 1 ^ '° '"■' "' '■"»'' «' *« 
 
 pause, the iauRhtor ate^ZT' , °" ''"'» ™ » suiUen 
 What could "ft, Zl , ?""^'" '""» ''»"*• 
 her eyes Jteao^LH^tr'"'""" "'" ■»""»*»• ""' 
 
 aeed haa ;ust^r,::ti;^^;:-tf •/■■•';•■". "■■ 
 
 wha these Httle folks „•:„ do to y„„'^,t,» '"'■" 
 
 up .o..,3 for Lsp:i:;„^"r:h:;:r,-r- - -- 
 .Cit%:;'th?tM''is-x^^^:' '-' ™" 
 
 her blushes, she took cJu. T ^^" ^''' *° °°^er 
 
AMCK; OH. rUK MV.STKKIKs. 
 
 "illi till' cliil.lre,, ir,.lr ' ~ '» "'» "'""•fi- 
 
 "« one „f ,|,„ ,' "'• "'°,,»°'" ""'"""t Maltavor. 
 W. a,ul ah„„»t 1 til "' "; "'■ -"' «>e re,t, aa 
 
 sopvl^.":/:;'':";;;,;":;;;- {p.., ^„,. «,, 
 
 other name ? Whv do v»,. u ^^''^* ^ ^our 
 
 name?" ^ '*'' ^''^ ^^^'° «"cl, a long, hard 
 
 ;;Call mo Ernest." said Maltravors. 
 
 VVIiy (ion t wo hprrin ? " • 1 ,, , 
 
 " EvY como Z ^ ! ""'' "•" children, 
 resisted the bandage *" '^^^^^^ *« "y, 
 
 to the turn of Maltravor ^ T ?"'''•" ^'''^" ^^ ^'^^^e 
 the blush and sm le of the' "", "r''^^" '''^ "^* '^''"-^l 
 hand of the aspirant L Hod L iH "\^"'.'"^^ ^"^ ^^« 
 
 The children burst in "'^''^ ^'''• 
 
 Cecilia gravely aw^L^t C^Zl^f t/^"^'*^^ -^- 
 in the lot: a blue ribbon ''^^*'^^f «^the worst prize 
 
 «yeedily insisted :: av t^TuI Mau'"^'^^' ^'^^^-^- 
 yieM it. "«' ''"t Maltravers would not 
 
 Maltravers remained 
 
 fJay at the R 
 
 !pf>f 
 
 ^ry, and 
 
106 
 
 ALICE ; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 Shared in the ball: ye.s, he danced with Evelyn. -he 
 Maltravers. who had never been known to dance since' 
 he was twenty-two! The ice was fairly broken, -Ma 
 ravers was at home with the Mertons And ;hef 1 
 ook his solitary walk to his solitary house over 
 the httle bridge, and through the shado'wy wooi TZ 
 shed perhaps, with himself. - ever, one'^of he ^^'ts 
 r m the oldest to the youngest, pronounced him dS ig ! 
 ful. Caroline perhaps, might have been piqued some 
 months ago. that he did not dance with Ae'/but now 
 her heart _ such as it was - felt preoccupied 
 
 If 
 
ALICE; OK, THE MYSTEWES. 
 
 107 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 bis part. Mr. Merton, charld toL r r,^ " '' °" 
 rejected, thrust intimacy uiKrhi™ " '" '^™'™'' '"" 
 
 was very fed „, ridi„rand^: „ "I rT'-''^'^^ 
 one of the animah flf ? ecstasies with 
 
 est tail. Trne^t^dav tl''). ""■"' "^^^ *^« ^^g' 
 
 at the Eectory and a '.H ^ ''^' '''' '" '^' '*'^^^« 
 costly gift! ^' ' ^'"'"* ^P^«"« apologi2ed for the 
 
 Mr. Merton demurred hnf Pa^^i- , 
 own way; and so the W. 1'"' '''^'^^y' ^^^^ ^^^r 
 
 amazement and dsda^^^^^^^^^ ^"° '°"'*' ^" "^^^ 
 
 brown carriage-ho Jes ^Thf -f.' ^?°" ' ^'""^ '""^ ^^e 
 parties on horseback it It ' ^'"''"^ ^^"^"^^^ *« 
 tl- Arab from h?sri;ndsan7. "'"^'^ '' ''^'^''^ 
 left behind ? - £^2', whT W ' '''' ^"^^^" *« ^^ 
 thing more spirttid tha^ an om":" ''' f '?" ^"^- 
 little horse belonging to an elderlv "J" ^''""'"^ 
 
 too stout to ride,\a! to be soM td t' " M.fr"'^ 
 ^.covered the treasure, and apprised Mr^i^^fir 
 mo^tt;';;!^ g"^;;':.""" P-^'-'-g«- Iogical,and gather 
 
108 
 
 ^''"''•:; 0I>-, TlIK MVSTEUIKS. 
 
 If Jm 
 
 Wert,,,, „,„, M„lt, vo„ «<""«li...es o,,!,- .„, 
 
 fnon(l,-_stiIlEvo]v„'«;,„.v, ^" .<-^'»»-oJine ami l„.r 
 
 ter. was an excuse oJiS """"",'" ^'T-^^'''- '-a- 
 
 "o-/elt n.oro at^]!::'" ^ ^r.'r^^ -;^' ^^velyi: 
 I'or fanciful yet chastonedin Ve,^" V'™"" ^*^^«^>'. 
 Maltravers was not slow fo ,'^ '""*'/'""»'' "^ voice. 
 «""Plicity tlioro lurke I so 1 '• T' "'"' ^'°"^^""' ^'^^ 
 tion. Insensibly Ids ow ' '"^ '"•"''' ''''^ """«"««- 
 
 %j^- witht,^;;:Lz:;;:::;:;::7/-'-i'i«w 
 
 reputation gave hi,,, hn J \v "''''"'■'' y'^''' '>»J 
 
 -th iighte,'and 1 4 i ^ t ,if ^"r^"'^^"'^"- 
 
 earnest and docile mind It^o. v^r ' ^'^ '^"''^^^^J I'^r 
 ten knowlediro l>,>f f 1^ ^° "''"' ^^^J^ of writ- 
 
 as well as literary lore t f sLI «. '7'' ^' '^'^^^'^^^ 
 nomeim of the pl,ysical wo,.U fr' i ^,'''"'''' "'« P^^^" 
 ;^e descanted wfth^hrfe;:' '.l^f ^^^^^^ """'^'^ ^ ^^-h 
 knowledge of a sage. " "^ " P°^^ ^"^ ^^^^ easy 
 
 ^-tly at L; and kl o.nH 1 1;;'^""'/^^^ ^'^^- 
 intiniate with Lun,lev l.ennnn '''''' ^''^'^ ^'^^ 
 
 was aware of the e ''I^el ! ^ ''"'^^"^^'^ ">«t he 
 Wend. Meanwlnl °AH '! '"'''''''''' ^^'^^3^" and his 
 
g'> 
 
 ALICE; OR. TJIR MYSTKRiEg. 
 
 109 
 
 travors, should strongly i„n,ros. n • 
 
 »'>t fcl.o heart of a suIJ u ■ ' ""'-^S' nation, if 
 
 --1 ia his fav;v t;;/ t;„f ■' ^''-'^'y i-^^^- 
 
 socioty which combined so Z 'T"''"'"'''''^ '" '' 
 r"y.irded him with unsne-tk I ^ "ttract,on,s, Evelyn 
 'I'^^'kor shades in his c art " Z^'"^"™^'"'' > to tl 
 '-•"^'^-d.thoyclldn^^^^^^^ 
 
 t^vico in mixed society his 1 i • f ?° *'"^' °"^-« «"• 
 ^^per.brokehastil/t'Lr^;;^^;^"'^,^';!-^ 
 pretension, to presumptiou. he shouv. 1 /"/"">'' ^o 
 b«arance. The impatient s nilo 1^1'"'' '^'^''' ^«- 
 COM repulse, that ni^ht uTZ "'",V^'"« «"^««'n. the 
 rosented. betrayed tin he ' ^ '""^'^ ''^'*''^° '^-^ «P«"ly 
 
 ---• He had !,: f " Lr ::"^^ ^^ r*^^ "'^^^- 
 
 wounding vanity; he was nl . "''"1^"^""« i" not 
 «ut if somotin.e^s this unlhn '^r •"J>«'-<^"t to it. 
 <lisplayed to others chilh 1 ; '''' "^ ^''«''^«ter. as 
 t-t of his nJit^;l,:f^";^ ^^^^^"'"- -n- 
 <Ielicious not to efface aj 1 ' ""'' '" ^^"^^^ *«« 
 - his voice al^Ho^l '^?-- ^-t^ons. ^^'o\er 
 
 his mind ever bent as by svm fl ' ^''' '^'"'P^'^^^y 
 sion; to her. the vounc. •;, "^ " ''' 7' — not condescen- 
 
 -to her alone he dl'nordiT'' "" ^-^^-'^ormed, 
 stores of his knowledg Jl hn I T ''! ^"^^^'^'^ '^^ ^he 
 of l>is mind. She node l! 1 '"'^ ^''^^''''' colors 
 preference. Perhans T n '''"'''''^•* '^ «" strange a 
 
 on« day. when she had convT , ""'^ '"'P^'"" it-" 
 
 f"lly than usual, he b ke in n" T'" '''''^ ^'"^ '"-e 
 exclamation, - ' '" "P"" her with this abrupt 
 
 " ''"' ^'"''''''' y-- "^nst b.v„ ,,3,,j,t^ , . 
 
 childh 
 
 from the world 
 
 ^vifch beautiful minds 
 
 your 
 
 A see already that 
 
 iriu -A . - ^ ocu uireaciv 
 
 ^'1° as xt xa. you have nothixxg of 
 
 con- 
 
110 
 
 ALICE; OR. THK MYSTEKIES. 
 
 tagion to fear T h i 
 
 various .natter^,-. on ;L;"? T .'''^ °" '^' "^^^^ 
 
 ;« i-Perfoct; but ^XL'i:^'^^] '"^^^^^'^ 
 
 ^yelyn Cameron. ZZL • ''' '^'"^ ^h^'" '" 
 heart of a poet, a thol n f ^""^^ ^^'"«' «« ^^om the 
 thougl.ts which had i . h ' ""I '^"^ l^«-cn-taught 
 thoughts that often Z^'t^t"' r *'^^^ ^^^"- 
 youth, and reconciled 2 l m f" ^^'^'"^^ ^ack to 
 travers learned more from Fv l'/'' ^^^^'' ^^«« ^Jal" 
 Maltravers. "' ^' '^^" ^han Evelyn did from 
 
 There was, however, another trait ^ 
 of temper^ in Maltrlvers and vmT '^'' ^^'"^ "'^' 
 atter, more manifest to her ttn T ""^'^^ "^« 
 tempt for all the thing, her vn . f'''''' ^'' ''^- 
 
 had been taught to prL n ? '"^ ^'''^' enthusiasm 
 hallowed him to her eve's~"t " '^'' '"^^^''^^ «"d 
 
 and its rewards. He snot '-l'''''^'^^'^'^ of ambition 
 
 of great names and frafderar' Cit. ""''''' ''''^'^ 
 growth they were,"li, he ot dav ! n " '' ' '''''' 
 defence of the luminaries of fl • ,' , '"''''''' ^^ her 
 
 hawblesaspoorasthel^raL'th^d n- 1 "^""^^^ ''^ 
 niany have been made ere,^ o li house,-, how 
 
 vices- Paltry craft la'c"!::^^^^^^^ ^^ *'-^- 
 
 escape his duns, the proCat n -^h«'»^«tocles. To 
 and achieves his' laurel^ Sus tl" '"f^ ^'^ ^""^' 
 his patron, that patricians u^cTt ' " tTT T'*' '''''' 
 beians, and that posterity nn«h t.ll f / ^''' '" i^^^" 
 of posthumous fame, -i It /If '""'• "^^^ ^^^e 
 -n for notoriety as' that . eV m d^ T^'^ P'^^" 
 once icne. lay out .wo thousand \Z2 L l:^Zj, 
 
 i 
 
ALICE; on, TUK MYSTKRIES. 
 
 Ill 
 
 To bo talked of l, 
 
 Som 
 
 g^««ip.s of tlii.s ago or t],. 
 
 ft mar, '^ '■"I''' >Jl nil,- 
 
 e men are urged on to fa,„o hy 
 xcuse for ih^;^ 4.^..-, , . "" "y 
 
 next ? 
 
 an excuse for their troube but H ^^ •'"'"'^' ~ '^'^ i« 
 noss ,-n fi .. """^f-. "lit there IS. in m«„„ ^_rv 
 
 ness in the moti 
 ploughman 
 
 l«igor part of 
 
 sweat 
 eminent 
 
 ^« tl;an in tJiat which nialc„. 
 - eye of Phcebus. I„ 
 
 th 
 
 '"«», instead of bein 
 
 s no more noble 
 '■^^ yon poor 
 In fact, the 
 
 fny lofty desire to benefit "' "''"« inspired by 
 
 human mind, have act for n' '"''f'' '' ^""^^^ "- 
 nite object beyond th ir T^^''"''^ ^^'"'«"t any dofi- 
 
 excitement. or'indulXl?d^" ' "^t'"'^ '^^^^ ^- 
 And when nobler a!l r r"'' «^ ^ ««I««h glory 
 
 too often beentt r.Sn 'r '"' ^''^"^' ^ ^>- 
 cnme. What dupes of gl r/?,t"^'" '^^^ ^-g-inary 
 deeper faith, a h gher afnb f u'''' "'""^^^ed by i 
 
 1-ers of Mohammt Itth^'/'^r''^ ''^'"''^ '^^'- 
 virtue to ravage the earth ^^1' ^'^''''' ^^at it was 
 f he battle-field' into S'is '^f- ""^ ^P-"»" '^^m 
 
 love of country, _.,,i,n;;„didtr '"' ^^''^^^y' 
 ^0, the results, wlien tb<, Z *''''' ^^ ^^tion! 
 
 «on once commencrf Bel'ld ^ T '""' *^^ - 
 Days of Terror, the Council o/t ^j^^^'^ition, the 
 
 of Venicel " "'^ ""^ ^<^"' and the Dungeons 
 
 oh^tna:::;r iLr • ;:;-T^ -^^^ ^^e. melan. 
 answer. '''' "^^^inct of truth suggested an 
 
 "0 glory, no patriotism, no v ftue no T'''' ^^ '''' 
 analyze men's motives L hi v l' 'r^^'''"''" ' ^ou 
 ;>;h%? Look to th resX ''"'r""^'^"''"'^g« 
 I'ghtenment! If the resu 1 'r'"' '"'^*' ""^ ^»- 
 v»rtue, no matter what mo !« f "''*' "''^^^"^^ '« ^ 
 80?" "^^ motive awakened it. Is it not 
 
 If 
 
 I 
 'f 
 
112 
 
 ^'■It-'^; on. TUK MVSTKRir^R. 
 
 Evelyn spoko l,I„,sln,mlv •„..? ii, •„ , 
 despite his own tenets m-^ .l,! , r^^^' ^^I'^avera, 
 
 , "^«»-asonwoll/;:^;t'tH""''""i^^>^- 
 ;ow arc wn suro that' tho «, J , '"' ? -">'- " ^^ut 
 
 «'^m? Civilisation. ..Ui. n ,; ''•'\'''-^ ^'«" ^•'Pict 
 ^-.ns, hollow soun,l . ^^T^^-^^r' ''' ^«^'- 
 
 ;--" - 1 .io. Action :^ , ,; : ^ - -"'^ -n 
 
 t'H^ro are 8uch things as poI.1 V •'^'■■'K'>>i"t while 
 
 «^Jves. What I have ^Z ' "• ' ^* ''^ "'""'■ 
 
 progress is not always in,n,nJ i ^^''vnces n.e that 
 evils unknown to t ,e ZZT' ^'-'^'-^'on has 
 ^r- in all states see.;:tc:r^ ,:::;;' ,;»'^ '-— - 
 t'on of happiness. We in,' '""^'^ ^'"P^'' 
 
 tomed to dwell on on ow fr ?" "'"^ ^^^ ««^»«- 
 the slave, whon. we mmLntr' •"".••' ' ''^^^ ^^^" 
 « rapture unknown to t ! ! ' ^"^ ^"^ ^^«^'^«y ^vith 
 that slave made free and o1 M rT"'"" ^ ^«^« ^^'^n 
 of his master; and ^ha ! r '^ ^''° '^^^-^--o 
 masses of men in all countrin^ ^'^,"'' "'"''^- Tiie 
 
 there are greater co „fo • ft,"','"",'^'^ '^' ^^"^^- " 
 dence bestows a fert e e t an d" Y' ''"'^' ^'''^- 
 a mind susceptible to e " ' ,^^^^^^^ heaven, and 
 
 the voluptuous induLo'l"^; "\'^T' '' ^^^^t. on 
 tented apathy of the H Lo ? n "'"; " "" ^-- 
 t'O" "f good and evil "t" e.n " ""-^'^'^ ^^S'^'"'^'^- 
 ^'ffect? They who hbor 1 . """ ''"'" individuals 
 reputation! Who sht ^ ' ?]' '"^^^ - their 
 
 h^o", Cronnvell or clsafw f" Voltaire or Napo- 
 '"-^«t good or most evH 7' U^^^ "' ^''^'' ^'' do"« 
 ''■■^P"te on. Some of us think n' .'^"''""" '"'''''^' "^'-^y 
 ^h'l.-ght and the ligl^ts ^ " f 'T' ^^'^^^ heen the 
 •o-phy has treated :::! co ;" "'""^ "^ P^i- 
 
 - panders to the false g "of" ^^fZ °' ^'"^ ^P'^^'^'"'' 
 
 ^ ^''^'^■"'^'to the effeminacies 
 
ALICK; oii, Tl/I.; MYSTKKIKS. n;j 
 
 Of tasto, to tin, parn,,,.,,'!,. of tl,.. .v, • 
 
 that change the face uf the a,t J'"""'""''* 
 
 gunpowder, the stcum-en.Mne ' ~~, ,' r''"^"'«-P^'-"«S 
 
 y>y tho unthinking he ' 'ti^/r 'r "'" '""^^^'^^^'''^ 
 i"tro,h.cea ills unknoun .!f 7 ''"''' «%'««.- h.v.. 
 
 -unteH^lancin"^ ;:a ;Lr'''^"'?"''« «"•' "^^- 
 
 -clunery deprives h ^d. f to:r"r''T*""^ ^" 
 the eternal h'wvUu-. ^f ' ^i^'l'^^tion is 
 
 crushed do,™ ll,„ ' ' ' '"'"'"" "8«Mi=s l,a» 
 
 'v-.i* I „„:: • 11, :"'irr^::;r', 'r .' 'r' 
 
 «to,-e him to his raoe'_it !' ^ ''" °°''''' 
 
 but it into^aM a^^Jl^'t: "°"'='"°" '"™' 
 
 xuftred tl,t cl,il,|™r„ i'^'"' "'""■ "» """ravers 
 
 wonders he Id ,^,7 " "f" '""' ='"»" *« 
 
 «.o soft and ocia „ " "'i-S-ons far away, !,„„. jj,, 
 
 «lvos! Th r^ t r ° '"I"'""-" ""'old then,. 
 
 fuiness or n^ro "it"' I t^'Ira,"";* '"'"■" '""^- 
 con d Brow ol.l Ti. • " «""""' novor 
 
 npon the raJtsof »r ■"""•'"".'"' """ '""''' ""'«- 
 never wljuy ,| L ter""":;"™ '"'"' ^"=' ">"-J. 
 
 "'«... wiXh,rad:;j;^-:i"rrtr^;: 
 
 ?f 
 
114 
 
 ^^^CE; on, rUE MVSTKiaKS. 
 
 nii(l warmtli 1> ■ 
 
 ^'u^roforo obsorvo tho d,\s„lr tv " ''"^•^" ^^^'' "ot ^ t 
 i-7 /orvod for tl f ^rj^^^"^^/^ knowledge ! J 
 ;-^'ot fooling of ocjuali ; 'L ;, '"'"'^'''* ^"^ ^'^ "^"t 
 ^«y" '« rarely « very intens .«"""' ^^'^''""^ whid. 
 "«* «o with men. But ' i '''°" ^" ^^«'"e". It is 
 !"7 familiar with her to^/ tf ^ ^^^ ^-u- n.oro an 
 ^'"••/y there was perilolt " f'"" ' ""^ "' ^'"'^ famil- 
 ^«"1^1 laugh hinz at Z^ ^^T'' '' ^^^^^^avers. SI o 
 
 ;--erios; contradict ^^haTretV"' °,V*^^ "'""^ --dy 
 f-'orue dogmas. --,,^;,:,^l^f^-Ufuln^ his mosi 
 
 o gmvUy,ifhe,,„,^;,,^^' -^^^^^^ with bewitch- 
 
 ;y« ios, or caprice. At this !! / ' ^onuimnd of her 
 Maltravers would fallti;^;-^«7-a certain that 
 «• more doubtful ProbabniHr , ?^^"^ l^"t it rested 
 f'^^l i" love with IZ;^'^''^'^ ^l^ether Evelyn would 
 
tJio young, 
 i<l not yet 
 ^«n herself 
 '^iedga and 
 ' her tliat 
 'lit which 
 -»• It is 
 more and 
 «t famil- 
 ^rs. SJio 
 t moody 
 lis most 
 bewitch- 
 d of ]ier 
 lin that 
 t rested 
 would 
 
 ALICK 
 
 ; ('ii. Tllli AIYSTKRIES. 
 
 115 
 
 CHAPTKK VII. 
 
 Et to littorihus rvn.ho^""'"'"' ''•'''»' 
 
 onm.,scjmbapropin,j„avehat.i 
 
 Senk 
 
 U XT OENKCA. 
 
 "AS not Miss Pim 
 -i;i Mr. Merton to S::,;;'^^^"' countenance ?" 
 of the compIi,„ont, sat at a 1 ij dL ''"u' ""^""^^io-.s 
 her eyes to Sopliv wJm w ''stance, bending down 
 
 fool at her kne^'a'n tVo.sr""'. '''''''''^^^ -^ 
 Joiiu, -for Merton Lrd bee„ .^ '""'^^ ^"* *« ^^J^^ 
 useful information resit n" f, "^ ^''^'''''^'^ «on,e 
 estate; and Evelyn wa a ?, "'^"«goment of his 
 
 could interest her frilnd/ S.T""'^'^ '" ^'' "-* 
 ^n woman, had Evelyn Can 1 T ''^''"*^"* """g 
 cheerfulness of temper she T." '^''^''' ^'^^ «"""y 
 insensibly acquired. UeLTfT^' '"^ «''« ^'^d 
 «lent mother, the habit nf "^ ''"'' "^"^^"S «nd 
 
 What a blessU secret s 1^^^ h'^*"'''"« ^^^'- 
 domestic life! ^^ '" *h« 'ntercourso of 
 
 Has not Miss Cam 
 Maltravers started aTfV '""^"' countenance?" 
 translation of his ownA f """•" ^* ^•■'»« « literal 
 checked the enthus.^Tm th7 ' '' ""* ".oment. He 
 re-echoed the word I "' '''' '' ^'^ ^^P' and calmly 
 "Beautiful, indeed!" 
 
 Furl your sails, and let th« „.„. u. _ . ^^ ' '" 
 
 ' let the next boat carry 
 
 if 
 
 you to the shore. 
 
116 
 
 AUOK; or, rUK MVRTKRTFS. 
 
 I, ' 
 
 If ■ 
 
 ;!:t;v;:,;:^''"'••''•'''•'■''•■'-^''<•.nn.s^a^.^ Hois to 
 
 "Yes; Lord V,ir.'rivo 7)-] 
 ^v«« onfiago.1 to hi,,'; f,o,„ , ' iT.r* '^'"""' f^'.^t shn 
 
 ;-^/my,co,,.,.,,,,,,/J'^^^f;;'oo,n it ... ,,„ 
 
 '•" "•« va«t fortune, if „ot o^ n T'' " '.'^ '-(^^nathod 
 beforo?" ** ^^'•' .>^'" 'H^vcr hear of this 
 
 '-«;'': t;„!i:r 'Si:/r"'? --'-•™ - 
 
 cliniiibcr of Kl„,<,„„ _ . ™ ' ' * '•<■'<' m «,„ .ick 
 "opt from his „,in, l,v , , ."'' "' *« «"">, "id 
 
 "'"=1. to Lon,l„„. H, ",;, '"',"'"'" ';'" '^'■•■■iii" Lira ,o 
 I^onl, last nig,,,. aiJttrn """'''" ■•''"■°«'' '" «"> 
 
 "go of cigliteo,,. » "'■"' C»moron attains llie 
 
 Of -:s::;t;:rs "-" *"■«" - «•« p™.d „t 
 
 Mr. Morton" ,0 syLl' ',?" ■'"""•"" ^ «'" "y^ " 
 
 But, to ret„r„ to M " j , ,," v„"™,'"'' ''"PP'"*. 
 »P'"ion of that s,„„oth-s ,„'!',/ ,?™'»™'<> my own 
 Tho convcr,.,t,„„ n '? , 8"ntlcm>in." 
 
 Maltravers rl^' I acp:;:' '"* *° ^'""■«- A. Ia.t 
 
Ho is tn 
 
 ttirni 
 
 ng 
 
 AI-ICE; 0«. THK MVSTE,ai.;s. 11 7 
 
 vviii you not dine win. „ < , 
 ital.lH roctor. '"' "'^ to-,Iay ? " ^aij j,,^ j,^^_ 
 
 Many tliankH nn T J 
 
 'o at ,,„„,„ ,,„ .,;,•„, ,, • jV:::,":;"^'' •"'»'■"«» to att,,,., 
 
 KIS8 SopJiy ]yjj, .,-. 
 
 >^ -- cruel to put'it n „ '^ ^"'^^-^n.. ,,vy iij 
 
 Maltravors took th ch i T'' ^''^'^ ^^P^'^" 
 
 "•'v'ancing to Evelyn D ' ,1 T , '"' ''"'^^'^^^^ ^''^'". 
 ^'ye.s were «xed upo'n L \ 'u ^ '" '■""' ^^'"^^ '"'^ 
 "'-••rnful int.3ro,st which s le on, ^r''\"" "^ ^"^P «"J 
 
 ""or. Mr. A,„,.to„ „, Jl j " ' '""t""™, of ll,e 
 
 tened to offer coLatulatronr , ^ '^'''' ^'^'' 
 
 1^-haps it was the cCo to {- 7' ''''' ^osintality. 
 valid which prompted th! \ ^" '-"'"^^^ *« ^^^erton 
 ^ the other i^i^tfon, tc^^^e:' T'''' '^ '^^'' 
 ;-"otal],,Maltraversl,S^^^ .^"' ""'^ 
 
 "^e reputation of a man of h ' »°'ghborliood 
 
 abruptly dismisse,!; wi"h h rr\ ''^- ''"^"^ ^^'-« 
 J-vors became his 'o ^ tet^d ^^^ V' ' '^^'^^' ^^^^^- 
 t« this personage was cW . • ." P'''""^ ^^'^ress 
 
 eharge'yo^'bectrvo"' ^^""' "'^'^"^ — ^«. " I dis- 
 e j'uu utcause you are a rasnl n 
 
 rabcal, — there can be no 
 
 
118 
 
 ALICE; Oi;, TUK MYSTEKIES. 
 
 My villng,. „,, «,,,/' "■;';■; ;'■■«''-'«■' tl.o .ir. 
 
 "If"" to pay „;,„„„/ ,^1'*:^, ;°""' ° >"y lonan.. 
 "tLer, are Mrewe.l „,, l"!" <T''^' J"" !«»' kmw), 
 «°°"ly. You are a ro^ m '"'t '".''' """'" '" "'^ 
 
 you w„„M ta,e ^ rlL^tZ Si""™, ,'° ° '""y-. 
 .Ijantageou^ly .o the reclis: nX'^S °^^^ 
 
 ■1 hope, sir " r«,M +i ^ -^ oJuncIers." 
 
 and appalled. J " TLTJ u'^' '^""■^^^^"^-stricken 
 -indeed, if'l was called^ "'" "°' '"'" "^°: '"'leed. 
 to^jail." '"""'^ "!'«» to refund, I should go 
 
 " Make yourself easy sir Tf ; • . , 
 «"tfer as well as you Mv n/ ! "'"/^ *^'' ^ «^'°"ld 
 tempted you to rog ery "^^r" f '"^ ''"" ''"^ies 
 vigilant eye of Mr. CleTeiund Tr ''""' ""^^ ^he 
 If you are quite hardened f'' '''^^ ^^^^ g^ins. 
 
 if you are'not. it itC^r^f^^t 
 gray-haired, with one foo i"" he °^ '' ^'^"^ ^'^^^^ 
 «elf called a ro^ue a„ dt f, ^'■"'''' ^"^ ^^^«r your- 
 
 yourself. Go - " ' ^'^'^' '^''' ^^^ ^^nnot defend 
 
 «ome tenants; he made nf ' ^"'' ^""^^ «^ g*^* ^'^1 of 
 J'e called labor into requis tInT"''"''"*' ^^"^ °"--^- 
 -nts; he paid minS^ t ^^^^^^^ ^^P-ve- 
 
 weakness of careless and fnr I P''^''"' "«* ^^ the 
 
 popularity is so chlply purS"? V -"f '^ ' '^ ^^-'' 
 easily degraded: no his I ' ' ^n^'ei'endence so 
 
 dustry and raise hop Tl ""1 ^'"^ '' ^*^"'"^-te in- 
 that he so yainly denied inll^iT '"^ ^'""'^"on 
 
 ---e.inLij^-r;:i::tr-:r 
 
alick; on, Tin: MYs-mim. 
 
 ^7 began to rofutol's ^ Z:''^ ''] ''''''' ''^- 
 oid poor-laws were rifo in , . °"°?- ,^^0 aUises of tl.o 
 
 I--tration. „.., ,.o, > \ \';r''"^''r'^ '^'^ ^"-'^ 
 *''« law now called in o ZL "i ^''' ^^^^isions of 
 to '^0 the Philosopher S,rr''' "' ^'" '"'' ''''' '"^^" 
 
 -'>icl, as yet. the d, . , i.^ "'T'm ' '"^ J^"""?'^ 
 ^«vo not .snflleiontl, disco 1^^ On "" ^^^^'^''^^^ 
 tho now co.le was, hy curbiru! i ,• . '"'"" •^'^^^t of 
 activity of individ,,L :otvo ' " '''T''' '' ^^^ the 
 - "'0 clergyn,an find u or "o ' '''' ^^^P"^*''^ 
 stances of severity onnr., ? " "^" '^o^ated in- 
 
 and salutary lau,^',. ,T ^i," ^^^"^f'^'P '» « S-eral 
 -'Sht to attend to the in. i v d ' "ir'"'' ''' ^"^' ^« 
 benevolence ought to kee„ the hi '"'*'"f f '^ «"d private 
 and be the make-weighTw :; ;rr 
 Cheney of national charity 't T '' ^ •'"«* ^'^^ 
 
 "modified and discreer rl,,J:V^'^\"^'-^bich. in the 
 establish on his estate' ti" ''''' ^" '^""gbt to 
 pointedly attended to iff '."'^.''■^ ^•^'^^^'•^"y and 
 tress, unmerited destitution f "'['l''/^^' tomporary dis- 
 fui. indefatigable fr nd in r' '/", '^ '"'^'y' ^-^'^b- 
 >-ith extraordinary pro "npt ud "" """' "^""'"-^^d 
 -ngle purpose and -st^^'^ .^m"'/ '"' ""^^^^ «^ ^ 
 
 -^^ -ought into contact^;;:;;^:^-^;-;-: 
 
 - .neti;t:irp:^^^^^^^^^^ - ^'- or eco„o., alone 
 
 ber that the more he wresTs from L '•■* "-P'-^^^r ought to remem 
 cant, the „,ore he ought to bestoTo ^T "^ ^''^ ^'"'•dy ^3- 
 o«t the mitigation/of privltvL " ""'^'''""'^ '^^'^'^^ wS- 
 could make would be har i ' '''"' ^"^ ''^^^ ^enevoli t' 
 
120 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 Il 3 
 
 istrates and gentry. He was combating evils and 
 advancing objects in which all were interested; and 
 his vigorous sense, and his past parliamentary reputa- 
 tion joined with the respect which in provinces always 
 attaches to ancient birth, won unexpected and general 
 favor to his views. At the Rectory they heard of him 
 constantly, not only through occasional visitors, but 
 through Mr. Merton, who was ever thrown in his wav 
 but he continued to keep himself aloof from the house' 
 Every one (Mr. Merton excepted) missed him; even 
 Caroline, Avhose able though worldly mind could appre- 
 ciate his conversation; the children mourned for their 
 playmate, who was so much more affable than their 
 own stiff-neckclothed brothers; and Evelyn was at least 
 more serious and thoughtful than she had ever been 
 before, and the talk of others seemed to her wearisome 
 trite, and dull. ' 
 
 Was Maltravers happy in his new pursuits? His 
 state of mind at that time it is not easy to read. His 
 masculine spirit and haughty temper were wrestlincr hard 
 against a feeling that had been fast ripening into pas- 
 sion; but at night, in his solitary and cheerless home 
 a vision, too exquisite to indulge, would force itself 
 upon him, till he started from the reverie and said to 
 his rebellious heart, " A few more years, and thou wilt 
 be still. What, in this brief life, is a pang more or 
 less? Better to have nothing to care for, so wilt thou 
 defraud Fate, thy deceitful foe ! Be contented that thou 
 art alone ! " 
 
 ^ Fortunate was it, then, for Maltravers, that he was 
 in his native land ! _ not in climes where excitement is 
 m the pursuit of pleasure rather than in the exercise of 
 duties. In the hardy air of the liberal England he was 
 already, though unknown to himself, bracing and en- 
 
tl 
 
 ALICE; OK, THE MYSTEUIKS. 121 
 
 nobling his dispositions and desires. It is tlie-boast of 
 this island that the slave whose foot touclies the soil is 
 free. The boast may be enlarged. Where so uiucli is 
 eft to the people, - where the life of civilization, not 
 locked up in the tyranny of central despotism, spreads, 
 vivifying, restless, ardent, through every vein of th.' 
 healthful body,— the most distant province, the obscur- 
 est tillage, has claims on our exertions, our duties, and 
 forces us into energy and citizenship. The spirit of 
 liberty, that strikes the chain from the slave, binds the 
 freeman to his brother. This is the religion of freedom. 
 And hence it is tliat the stormy struggles of free states 
 have been blessed with results of virtue, of wisdom, and 
 ot genius, by Him who bade us love one another, — not 
 only that love in itself is excellent, but that from love, 
 whicli in Its widest sense is but the spiritual term for 
 liberty, whatever is worthiest of our solemn nature has 
 its birth. 
 
 l*j 
 
iMi 
 
 ti 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 Tpaxf'o Ktialvtt, vaiu nSpov. 
 
 Hx. Solon. Ekg, 
 
 Harsh things he mitigates, and pride subdues. 
 
 I ii 
 
I 
 
 l' 
 
 *--.- r- *_^ 
 
 f^-'^*.,^ 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 ■« 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 You still are what you were, sir ! 
 
 With most quick agility could turn 
 And return ; make knots and undo tliem — 
 Give forked counsel. 
 
 Voipone, or the Fox. 
 
 Before a large table covered witli parliamentary papers, 
 sat Lumley, Lord Vargrave. His complexion, though 
 still healthy, had faded from the freshness of hue which 
 distinguished him in youth. His features, always 
 sharp, had grown yet more angular; his brows seemed to 
 project more broodingly over his eyes, which, though of 
 undiminished brightness, were sunk deep in their sock- 
 ets, and had lost much of their quick restlessness. The 
 character of his mind had begun to stamp itself on the 
 physiognomy, especially on the mouth when in repose: 
 it was a face striking for acute inteUigence, for con- 
 centrated energy, but there was a som hing written in 
 it which said, "Beware!" It woulu have inspired 
 any one who had mixed much amongst men with a 
 vague suspicion and distrust. 
 
 Lumley had been always careful, though plain, in 
 dress; but there was now a more evident attention be- 
 stowed on his person than he had ever manifested in 
 youth; while there was something of the Roman's cele- 
 
126 
 
 alick; oh, the mysteries. 
 
 ffi .1 
 
 brated foppery in the skill with whicli his hair was ar- 
 ranged on his higli forehead, so as either to conceal or 
 relieve a partial baldness at the temples. Perhaps, too, 
 from the possession of high station, or the habit of living 
 only amongst the great, there was a certain dignity in- 
 sensibly diffused over his whole person that was not 
 noticeable m his earlier years, — when a certain ton de 
 garmson was blended with his ease of manners- yet 
 even now dignity was not his prev, lent characteristic, 
 and m ordinary occasions, or mixed society, he still 
 found a familiar frankness a more useful species of 
 simulation. At the time we now treat of. Lord Var- 
 grave was leaning his cheek on one hand, while the other 
 rested idly on the papers methodically arranged before 
 him. He appeared to have suspended his labors, and 
 to be occupied in thought. It was, in truth, a critical 
 period in the career of Lord Vargrave. 
 
 From the date of his accession to the peerage, the rise 
 of Luraley Ferrers had been less rapid and progressive 
 than he himself could have foreseen. At first, all was 
 sunshine before him: he had contrived to make himself 
 useful to his party; he had also made himself person- 
 ally popular. To the ease and cordiality of his happy 
 address, he added the seemingly careless candor so often 
 mistaken for honesty; while, as there was nothin<r 
 showy or brilliant in his abilities or oratory, — nothing 
 that aspired far above the pretensions of others, and 
 aroused envy by mortifying self-love, — he created but 
 little jealousy even amongst the rivals before whom he 
 obtained precedence. For some time , therefore, he went 
 smoothly on, continuing to rise in the estimation of his 
 party, and commanding a certain respect from the neutral 
 public, by acknowledged and -eminent talents in the 
 details of business; for his quickness of penetration, 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES, 
 
 127 
 
 and a logical habit of mind, enabled him to grapple 
 with, and generalize the minutiae of official labor, or of 
 legislative enactments, with a masterly success. But as 
 the road became clearer to his steps, his ambition be- 
 came more evident and daring. Naturally dictatorial 
 and presumptuous, his early suppleness to superiors 
 was now exchanged for a self-willed pertinacity which 
 often displeased the more haughty leaders of his party, 
 and often wounded the more vain. His pretensions 
 were scanned with eyes more jealous and less tolerant 
 than at first. Proud aristocrats began to recollect that 
 a mushroom peerage was supported but by a scanty 
 fortune; the men of more dazzling genius began to sneer 
 at the red-tape minister as a mere official manager of 
 details; he lost much of the personal popularity which 
 had been one secret of his power. But what principally 
 injured him in the eyes of his party and the public 
 were certain ambiguous and obscure circumstances con- 
 nected with a short period when himself and his asso- 
 ciates were thrown out of office. At this time it was 
 noticeable that the journals of the government that 
 succeeded were peculiarly polite to Lord Vargrave, 
 while they covered all his coadjutors with obloquy; and 
 it was more than suspected that secret negotiations be- 
 tween himself and the new ministry were going on, 
 when suddenly the latter broke up, and Lord Var- 
 grave's proper party were reinstated. The vague sus- 
 picions that attached to Vargrave were somewhat 
 strengthened in the opinion of the public by the fact 
 that he was at first left out of the restored administra- 
 tion; and when subsequently, after a speech which 
 showed that he could be mischievous if not propitiated, 
 he was re-admitted, it was precisely to the same office 
 he had held before, — an office which did not admit him 
 
128 
 
 ALICE ; OK, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 Luniley, buniiiu' 
 
 with resentment, 
 
 into the Cabinet. 
 
 longed to (Icclino the offer • l,„f .j "";■ "'"^'" 
 
 and what was worse in deb "-h '" '''' ^'^^^^ 
 
 ^vill, consented " frl ' ' ■ \'' ^T^'^y^ ^ut not his 
 
 ■"Ivanced as a miljio m„„ hL 7'""" '"> >«"> not 
 l.i» discontent,!. ,:d Zee Sj^^tZm^'r' "", 
 every nerve to atrongthen Ms ^L^ ''^l' ^^,'7' 
 sarcasms on his pover'v bv „™,.i • . "' ""> 
 
 f ure, and by ad^^t-f/ U^ M 
 to an heiress whose fortune, greal s it wl T'"^-^' 
 contrived to magnify. As h L ohl ^ ' '"''^^ 
 George Street -well fitted fotl^ .^^ '" ^^^'^^ 
 
 -was no longer suitecf ^hroffiLl tnd V^'Tr 
 peer, he had n.. hi. • "^^^^^ ^"" fashionable 
 
 t'atVespecLue e il,:rr",': "' ""=' '^"'""e'''' 
 ilton Place- and 1 ■ ?> ™"' '»"■«« mansion in Ham- 
 
 j-tib open to all the consequences, he cared nnf f^,. • 
 grasping, but not avaricious. . If men much 
 
 '1! ■ 
 
ALICE; OR, Tm: MYSTERIE,^. J 09 
 
 that his salary ioin.nl Z "* ^'^ ''° suppose! 
 
 -MsuppoT;,;:':: t:l;::^r^:f^t^'•^^"■'^■ 
 was already doouU nul T ! T^' "'« '"^"'"^^ 
 
 upon debt. No' Ind ' ' ' ''""' ^'^'^^ ■^ecumulutod 
 
 nianager of hCwn' ^ • ™ T> ''' P""'^""°^ '"^ •skilful 
 
 cheating others oHget lilt "T' '^"^'^^'^^^ '" 
 being himself cheated on a ^ilone'^R"" '° T"""* 
 into bills till ho wn« ''"^y^ o"e- He never looked 
 
 never oalculaLl th n oTnttf^' '' ''' *''^"^ ^"^ ^e 
 the least necessary to hT "" ''^''"'' *'''* '"'"^''^ 
 
 Vargraye rel d 7no . h ^"'^•""'- ^"^* ^"" ^.ord 
 Evefyn to reltv^h n' or";rL:^^^\*^° -^^^'^3' 
 
 an..adoubtoftherX^".ofS^::ir""^«^ 
 occurred to him still nnW i-r ? "^"^" <^ver 
 
 Nay, should l.eWl /j"- ^ * """ ,"'"■""'"' I'""'' 
 
 aat by good ™a„age;:fL:,^rhr:;'''rr *""«'"' 
 
 worth whila to hia .oil., . ultimately make it 
 
 with the gorgeous bl'ofr """=''"'''' ''■» "''«»'=» 
 India. * '''° °' "'« Sovemor-generalship of 
 
 had 0, late'madreCr Z Z^TZ^r VT^ 
 
 he had once been iiid^prl • , , ^°^'^^ °^ '^'^ich 
 
 practice and no sIm^' " /"''P'^'^^" ^' '^ ^^^ that no 
 they are ^rmCtLl^^ZtZ^ ^"'^I,^"- ^ ^^ich 
 bring out in the berHght al th!" 1-^''''' ^^'^ 
 possess. The alo^y of n In ^"''^^^''^ "^^3^ ^« 
 
 of a profound stlsl Xp "Z 2:" *• *^^"' J'^^ ^^^^ 
 
 nature, -these no practicf::::;;!:-::^-:;^: 
 
 9 
 
 Ut 
 
 r 
 
 Ki:!„ 
 
130 
 
 AI.ICK; OR, THR MVSTRRIES. 
 
 arrange,,! 't p ■„, l.;;"';:"'" '■",'""""■'■ '"f-"™ 
 
 self-possoi„„ „„ ; : i'^ " '•"'"■'■'■J' P"™"" fo, 
 U'O o„ly fault o w ;', „°'"' ""8'"8 "i"^" ('» 
 
 did he „w„/.„ e„ „rand cfmittt'r ,'"r"'°"*'- 
 
 ne»», Lord V.rgravo ,va3 often , , T "°'''' 
 
 n.jscUev„„a speaker for tl in'tllTh.'^S" S" 
 colleagues ha.I often ea„se to tremble yJTt 
 ■lay, even when the cheers of h,? I .■ "^' 
 
 the old tapestried wal s ll'XL f"™ '"'"''' 
 with the pnblie „,,„. co,,,tiri4 ,, rfatVfn?'*^ 
 tions when the public as well ,. T- "'"'""■'' mdiscre- 
 
 own poliicrS rtad'thtifn ;". *°"'-"™ °' ■"' 
 daily papers NevTr d d Lo,^l V "'"""™ '" ">» 
 *ose g'orerous sentaents wllh T™ tt"'' TV 
 propounded by Radical or To^ ,n'k dee^ f .^''f ""^ 
 of the people and do ,,.,^' '"'' deep into the heart 
 
 adorn ; Vt tln'de ;:f T,™ »» '>>« -« «% 
 inff wUh o „ t^tiencied an abuse, however eiar- 
 
 ing. w:th a more vigorous cha.npionship, or hurled defi- 
 
 — HMIHmiM 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 131 
 
 ance upon a popular .len>a„a M-itl. a n.oro courageous 
 
 -oru. In some tiu.os. wl.eu tl.o unti-popuLu- p fc I 
 
 s -s r..g such a loach., n.ay bo u.soful; L aMh t 
 
 nent of wluch wo treat, ho was a ,uost equivocal auxi - 
 
 hllA^.?'"^"''^'^^ proportion of the minist.Ts 
 headed by the premier hinuself, a man of wise view n I 
 ununpeaehablo honor, had learned to view W y 
 grave with dislike and distrust. They mi^lt hi 
 -ught to get rid of him. but he was not f w tl 
 «l.gh mortifications could induce to retire of 1 is own 
 acco.d; nor was the sarcastic and bold debate p r- 
 -n wh 30 resentment and opposition could be despised. 
 Lo d Margrave, moreover, had secured a party of lii 
 ovn -a party more formidable than himself He 
 went 1 ,,^ i to society; lie was the speci LorUe 
 n w^f r'l' '^P'""**^' '''''''' --- -' «^'^t time woe 
 
 o^Ta Lnt:: "T- r' ^"'' ^^''°"^' ^^ ^ "— ^ ^^'k 
 
 miiSster f^ , '",'"^"'' '^'' agreeable and courteous 
 minister formed a close alliance. All that salons could 
 
 liked?; his"^ 'r /''^' ^° ''''' h« -« p--- y 
 
 liked by his royal master, and the Court gave him their 
 golden opinions; while the poorer, the Lrrup o" and 
 the more bigoted portion of the ministry regarded hTm 
 with avowed admiration. ^e^araea nim 
 
 cracv te hT "^ ^""'T'''' '''' ^"^ '° ^^e bureau- 
 cracy, he had no inconsiderable strength; for Lumlov " 
 never contracted the habits of personal aLup tiierand 
 discourtesy common to men in power who wist to keep 
 applicants aloof He was bland and conciliat nl to all 
 
 r" sedtim "^^ 'T ^"^^"^^^ ^^^ self-compFac pcy 
 rai ed him far above tlie petty jealousies that great men 
 
 aistinction in Parliament, no man sought his acouaint 
 ance so eagerly as Lord Vargrave ; no ma°n cot^lirnrd. 
 
132 
 
 ALKJE; OK, THK MVSTEHIKS. 
 
 II 
 
 encouragocl. " la-ou^l.t on" tl.e new a«pirant« of his 
 party, with so hearty a good- will. 
 
 Such a niinuster couM not fail of having devoted 
 
 t ir rT' "'; ''^r' "" ""'''^^^"'^' -^^^'- vain, 
 t mn.t also bo confessed that Lord Vargrave neglected 
 
 "o baser and less justifiable iueans to cement his power 
 ^y placing It on the sure rock of self-interest. No iob- 
 bmg was too gross for him. He was shamefully cor lupt 
 n the disposition of his patronage; and no rcO.uffs. no 
 taunts from his ofhcial brethren, could restrain him f om 
 urging the claims of any of his creatures upon the publi 
 purse. His followers regarded this charitable selfish, 
 ness as the stanchness and zeal of friendship; and the 
 ambition of hundreds was wound up in the ambition 
 the unprincipled minister. 
 
 But^ besides the notoriety of his public corruption. 
 Lo d yu-grave was secretly suspected by some of per- 
 sonal dishonesty suspected of selling his state informa- 
 
 Zeof H f r "^ ^'''^"^' ^''""'''^y interests in 
 ^ome of the claims he urged with so obstinate a perti- 
 
 uci y And though there was not th.. smallest evidence 
 of sudi utter abandonment of honor, though it was prob- 
 ably but a calumnious whisper, yet the mere sumi- 
 cion of su.h practices served to sharpen the aversion of 
 Ins enemies, and justify the disgust of his rivals 
 
 In this position now stood Lord Vargrave: supported 
 by interested, but able and powerful partisans hated 
 in the country; feared by some of those with whom he 
 served; despised by others, looked up to by the rest 
 It was^ a situation that less daunted than delighted 
 him; for it seemed to render necessary and excuse the 
 habits of scheming and manoeuvre which were so genial 
 to his crafty and plotting temper. Like an ancient 
 Greek, his spirit loved intrigue for intrigue's sake 
 
 "mmmmmmm 
 
ALICE; nr;, JUF. MYSTERIES. 
 
 133 
 
 Ha.l it led to no en.l, it nvuuM still h,u-o hoon 8woot to 
 himasameans He rojoino.l to surmuml himself ^vith 
 the mo.st comphcatcl webs an,l ,„o.sho.s, _ to sit in the 
 eon tro of a million plots. He car.l n^t how as lam 
 w.1.1 some of thorn wore. Ho ,.olio,l on his own in '- 
 nnity, promptitude, and habitual «ood fortuno, to ma"ko 
 
 His last visit to Lady Vargravo, an.l his conversation 
 
 Id fo!: 't' f ''''r ''^ """•' '""^'^ .Hssatisfa:!;:: 
 
 and foar. In the oarher years of his intercourse with 
 
 not failed to attach the child to the agreoabli and liberal 
 visitor she had been taught to regard as a relation 
 was only as slu, grew „p to womanhood, and learned o 
 comprehend the nat„ „ „i t,.o tie between thom hit 
 she shrank from !.,, familiarity; and then on v hid le 
 learned to doubt of the fulfilment of his uncle's wish 
 The last vis.t had increased this doubt to a painful 
 apprehension: ho saw that he was not loved h s w 
 ^a It ronu.red great ad.lress, and the absonc o l" 
 p er rivals to secure to him the hand of Kvelyn Zi 
 he cursed the duties and the schemes which noce^s'arilv 
 kej. him from her side. He had thought of ^^^ 
 L dy Vargrave to let her come to London, Ml^hf 
 could be ever at band; and as the season 4s now se 
 
 we and just. But then again, this was to incur greater 
 bX% r "r '^ ''''''' ^'''''- r^ndonT 1 
 
 well-dressed, seductive young^^I^r mS:;'^' 
 toagirl of seventeen, s,iitors far more fascinating than 
 
134 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 1:1 
 
 this all. Lord Vargrave knew that in London -gaudy 
 babbhng d remorseless London - all that he coufd 
 most wish to conceal from tlie young lady would be 
 dragged to day. He had been the lo'ver. not of one 
 but of a dozen women, for whom he did not care three 
 straws, but whose favor had served to strengthen him n 
 society or whose influence made up for his own want of 
 hereditary political connections. The manner in which 
 he contrived to shake off these various Ariadnes, when- 
 ever it was advisable, was not the least striking ^roof of 
 his diplomatic abilities. He never left them'enem e 
 According to his own solution of the mystery, he took 
 care never to play the gallant with Dulcineas und r a 
 ertain age Middle-aged women," he was wont to say! 
 are very little different from middle-aged men; the; 
 see things sensibly, and take things coolly." Now 
 Evelyn could not be three weeks, perhaps three days, in 
 London, without learning of one or other of these^iw- 
 .o;t.. What an excuse, if she sought one, to break 
 with him! Altogether, Lord Vargrave was sorely per 
 plexed, but not despondent. Evelyn's fortune was more 
 than ever necessary to him, and Evelyn he was resolved 
 to obtain, since to that fortune she was an indispensable 
 
 I' ]' 
 
ALICJS; OK, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 135 
 
 1,1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 You shall be Horace, and TibuUus I. — Popb, 
 
 Lord Vaegrave was disturbed from his reverie by the 
 entrance of the Earl of Saxinghara. 
 
 " You are welcome ! " said Lumley, " welcome ! — the 
 very man I wished to see." 
 
 Lord Saxingham, who was scarcely altered since we 
 met with him in the last series of this work, except that 
 he had grown somewhat paler and thinner, and that his 
 hair had changed from iron-gray to snow-white, threw 
 himself in the armchair beside Lumloy, and replied,— 
 
 "Vargrave, it is really unpleasant, our finding our- 
 selves always thus controlled by our own partisans. I 
 do not understand this new-fangled policy, — this squar- 
 ing of mearnres to please the Opposition, and throw sops 
 to that many-headed monster called Public Opinion. I 
 am sure it will end most mischievously." 
 
 " I am satisfied of it," returnee' Lord Vargrave. " All 
 vigor and union seem to have left us; and if they carry 
 
 the question against us, I know not what is to be 
 
 done. " 
 
 "For ray part, I shall resign," said Lord Saxingham, 
 doggedly; "it is the only alternative left to men of 
 honor. " 
 
 " You are wrong, —I know another alternative." 
 "What is that?" 
 
 " Make a Cabinet of our own. Look ye , my dear lord, 
 you have been ill-used, —your high character, your long 
 
136 
 
 ALICE; OK, THE MYtimaEa. 
 
 m r' 
 
 II 
 
 experience, are treated with contempt. It is an affront 
 
 premier ^^^1 7:."^' '''' '' ^^" '"' ^"^^^ '^ -' 
 W Saxingliam colored, and breathed hard. 
 i:ou have often hinted at thi.s before T ,imi i, . 
 you are so partial, so friendly " ' ^""'^'^^ ^"' 
 
 ~tlCf'/rT, "r ^^'^'^'S article in the 
 
 strength with the press, r;^ ^^4 r^s wilhtl 
 Court; only let us hold fast together TMs 
 
 suppose /too may be adnutL to the Cabhttr ' ' 
 
 darifg" ""-■'■"^' ^"'^^^^^^ ^^- - too rash, too 
 
 "It has not beeniny fault hitherto; but boldness is 
 autun zn our circumstances. If they throw us ournow 
 I see the inevitable march of events. -we shallbe out 
 for years, perhaps for life. The Cabinet wil recede 
 more and more from our principles, our party Now • 
 the time for a determined stand, -'now can we ma Jo 
 mar ourselves. I will not resign: the king s ,W h us 
 2 st^-ength shall be known. These haugl'; i^b d ^ 
 ^hall fall mto the trap tliey have dug for us '' 
 
 mindtlV^'^' T"^ '"^ ''''^' *^« '^^'^fidence of a 
 mind firmly assured of success. Lord Saxingham wr 
 moved; bright visions flashed across him - Z u 
 miership. a dukedom. Yet he was old and" ild less and 
 his honors would die with the last lord of Saxingham 
 
 bee. continued Lumley, "1 have calculated our 
 resources as accurately as an electioneering agent would 
 
ALICE; OH, Tim MYSTERIES. 
 
 137 
 
 cast uj) the list of votpr« Tn fi,„ 
 
 '^ . 7."'- '" *'i« press, I have secured 
 
 of . and all ih. It,'. *''^ popular name 
 
 , ana all the boroughs of • jn Hip r.,K,-., ^ 
 
 have • onri af n i , ' v^abmet we 
 
 "vt^ , and at Court you know our ^treneth Tof 
 
 us choose our moment: a sudden cotJn T-^ 
 
 how .0 Wind tl,e™ , i, yoa leave it to m'T ' ""'>"' 
 
 hoped anothe.,. „„„ hra^Htio"; J 'ttred^T'' 
 h.6 senae of honor ivas alarmed TW ' ~, ""^ 
 
 in Lumley.s intrigue to ou ^1 gover 17. -Tf "'« 
 
 - he was prepanng himself for his rise in life. " ' 
 ihat IS well, — that is well t » said r„n,l.„ v 
 
 be really what he will be "nrme:» ""■ ' """' 
 
 
-.,../ 
 
 i 
 
 138 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 to T^xt::': sr --r' -«- «^--^ 
 
 entered the room w2 Tl h '"^ house-steward. 
 Jook: it was ZeTtL: ' '' '^' ^ P°^*-*''"« 
 olerk-like, there wlfiotnv o',: Tho'r "% *^%^-^ 
 origin on the face of it JT' ^ '^^ '''^«''««1 
 
 I^nniley opened the epLl^ewi^' ^- "^^'•''• 
 The man. a silversmithTL ^i "t ir^"^"' P^^^'' 
 n-ed!). had applied forVeasirvalthr ""' ^'■ 
 large; an execution wis f],l ? T' ^ amount was 
 - it is a trifle to a id man 1^"- ^'^ ^'^«'="«''» •' 
 pectedof being poor --onT'f "' *"^' *° °»« «"«- 
 -ent at so high an oi,7ct one T"^?'' '' ""* ^^^^ -- 
 was so necessiy, onewhol. ;?r P^^^^^^ °Pinion 
 title, and scarcely that ,ed^"r/' T'^^"^ ^^^ ^'^ 
 an adventurer. He ^uTt n r^" '^'' '^P"^'^*i°» ^^ 
 
 money-lenders, --Ws all ''r. "' ''''''''' *« the 
 <leeply mortgaged to^ffo^L t tir ^^ ^^'^^^ *°^ 
 again? -he knew its price and hi .^/"'i^^' "«"ry. 
 was to be done? he sighed; but what 
 
 EvelyVmusrbe'minV'krf" ^ '^^ '"°"*^«' ^^^ 
 whath a„^ buthe"- emt^tr Tliirr^^- 
 
 purse-proud England would b^ft^ '" ' ^''''' " ^^^^ 
 
 one's income. My ZllttZ ''^^^^^ 
 
 cle's old corresnondent \"^*^^' "^^ hanker, my un- 
 
 knows the conSns'ofThe ;iir ' h'^'^ ''' «« 
 the worst, I must have th,rf Tv. ' ~^ ^"^''« 'hat, at 
 a few months C^^;^-;i^J--^^^^^^ 
 
ALICE; OK, THE MYSTERIES, 
 
 139 
 
 I ! 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Anin^um nunc hoc celerem, nunc dividit illuC - v,„«,, 
 
 OBrioultUttl activity and Tf *■ °°"'™'''='''' <"><) 
 
 buIkof,,i3fo.tu;lte S'L.1''°' ""•" "'• 
 and war. Besides hi^ .. t i ^ ^ ^^^P^^ currency 
 
 able share in a tt^^^^^^^^ '?' "^ ^^^ ^ -"-^e ' 
 the time of his maSe ' tl. T '''"' ^°^'^^"'=«- ^t 
 he retired altogeThe ffo J 1 P''''"' ^^^^ ^^^g^^ve 
 
 to the place ir^:^^^^ZZk T' ^'''' ^^^"^""^^ 
 had still kept up . fam l,r . "" ^'"^''"'^- ^^ 
 
 cipal and senior'^a^tTr of tl.T'"T'*'"r ^^'^ *^« P"'^' 
 referred to; for he wl ' L '""'^'^Pollian bank I have 
 
 about monoy Ittlwi ,T \'^"^^^ ^"^^'^ *° ^'^ 
 
 ThisgentJeLtM Guslt^^rn ' "."'"^^^^'^ ^h^^' 
 with Lunuey, joint t^^fl^^^^^^^^ ^""^ ^'''' "^'^ed, 
 
 had full po';rfto "virit'in'^/f '"^""- ^^^^^ 
 '"ost safe oradvantageou ^^1^' '''''' ^^«^^<^ 
 chosen, -as .one. beln. de^tLed t r T"^^ "«" 
 would have the deeDest"in7 ? '^^'' *^" ^°^tune, 
 other, from his Sts Vn ^' /^^*' '''^"'^^ ^"'^ *J^« 
 excellent adviser ^'''""°"' ^^^^^^ be a most 
 
 --ve.yeart:^r?::::;-srt^ 
 
 / Now t.i,.ow that, distracts the active n,ind. 
 
^^•■'^,.J-->*^ 
 
 140 
 
 ALICE; OK, THE MYSTEHIES. 
 
 -r been ^ ^Zjf^i:^ tT^ ''''' '' '^^^ 
 the little favor he wts .,1 f ^^ onvy; so that 
 
 return for Lord Varrve-: 1 "^ '''' ^"* ' ^^^g^t 
 He found the bankerTn h,-r"^."'^?"^'''"- 
 
 other, tLrust hi nn^f ?• °™ ''*' "'™ <"' "'« 
 
 then.'„„t, aM Wkt:t ft L t ^f ^ "^T '°* 
 then seized upon a ne„ l^" 1 ? , ' "^'"""hment, 
 provided with "ncessi^ „ ^ .'"'' "'"^ "''" l"*ily 
 was what milfa rlTbe c^l^f °"- Meanwhile, there 
 .e..a„oe: ii.t\e ^ufd^lhTn'tLC l"' ^ll' ™""a 
 
 Jown, lilce 'an ^^alTnZ oZ\::iZ\''^' """' 
 fluttering, little Ihe ey^rwhieh t ^ I ^"^' ''f "^'' 
 ■"Visible, Mr. Douce ha. , I, ft an H "' " 
 
 i.. the bnsinerof Ti/'rXrr;'' "7 """»"'^' 
 society of the great ^°^'"^""'- '»"! ™ '""J of the 
 
 gra've Xl'f °r^°"' ""^ ''«" '"'" ^'^ Lord Var- 
 
 .ion In S4 y rLr?r'r'' ■■—"-■'- 
 
 ■^gard to ray wtrd ^1.1° ^ '"' """"'"J -"'h 
 
 hope she wiVbe'^ii^^^;;;:-,; '" " '" ™-""^ I 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTRRrRR. 
 
 14J 
 
 a™, as if alai at hr;:, ', '° '""' '"" >-"". and 
 
 J'^GS, in a few montl)« r i> i 
 
 pve; and you ,Z^J^ 'X' n" "''"./^" ^^'^^^ ^■-■ 
 m no want of n,n„ey " ' ■^°"''^' "^'-^^ I shall bo 
 
 th:^:^:;i;;i;t::;,f---that-i..t 
 
 put in Mr. Douce w , H TT" '"^^ ^'^"^ lord.sl.ip/' 
 in addition to h "; ^ ^ „ ""'' 'l^:!^'^*-- Mr. J)ouc . 
 
 -^^wS';:^onL't^-^^^-*^^p- 
 
 n^y personal socuritT Mv V. "^''"'^ '^"""'^^ "P«" 
 n^ortgagod, and I L't visl f' '' '^'"'^^ ^ ^'t"« 
 besides, the loan would ht\ T'""'^"' '* '"^r^i 
 know that if at the a. of eld ^ '.r'^^P''''''^''^ •' y«" 
 fuses „,e (a supposition ou ' tT '"'' '^''""^™" ^- 
 business we must calcuLfo '^"'■'^"«"' but in 
 
 tbe forfeit she Ir^^^tZT''^'!''''")' ' «l-m 
 remember." '^^ tliousand pounds, you 
 
 ay account, j„3t fo, , 3^„^j l^f a lew thousands to 
 '■ke It. Never mind, I can ™t , ., V'' ^^ ■*<"■'' 
 
 iour lord I-]-l i^-ri i • • 
 
 M'- Douce, ,vit,, tremblt; :,^;2"J'',,"''*ken." «« 
 
 to ^-,1 canon, upon my word, 
 
142 
 
 ALICE; OR, THK MYSTERIES. 
 
 
 i ^ 
 
 yes, a few thou-tliou-thousandc _ to be sure f. I, 
 Your lordship's banker is _ is -1" "" ° ^^ '"'""• 
 
 "Drummond, — disagreeable neonle bv n. 
 obliging. I shall certainly chanL' ^ ""''"' 
 -y accounts are better wlf k^f ill^.^"^ '^"^^ ^^- 
 
 ■ You do me great -great honor; I will iusfc „. 
 
 n>e! Morning Chr. -Chron-cdoniluXToJ^'"'' 
 
 Mr. Donee rose, aa if by galvani™, and ran onl „f 
 
 the room, spinning „„„,, ,^ ,,„ • »™ ™ out of 
 
 Ave wTcent i^I "^ P™""»« «<> P>y in three months, 
 
 j^.rrctn?:hn;;rer,nere:erf 
 :=rL:=.Ca;^?csK^^ 
 
 Monda^r-' ''°"" '° '™ ^'* *>- >' CaselZ::: 
 
 aii^ra";r„e:.trrerv', -" -''- 
 
ALICK; on, THE MYSTERIES. I43 
 
 expected, would rolievo him from -,11 I,- • 
 embarrassments. VVlien In ,• u ''^'"^diate 
 
 thanked his dear Mr n T^ ^'' ^'^'«^. ^e 
 
 seemed to mak the mile "" T"^, ' ^^'"^^^ ^^at 
 and assured hhnL; "^^" ^'l""^ into a nutshell, 
 Monday in the ye f - ifT^' '"" 7^f ^"^ ^-^ 
 longed to dopart/bThT'tlo^hnu:;^ Itf "^^" 
 
 'nercial eye, contrived, VaX Wdwfn''.' "" 
 veer round from the cLa.wc° in th F ^ knew how. to 
 the state of the English m:ne;:n:rk^"^' "'"'^^^^ *^ 
 
 witi^c:::!i'i;rt:^;::j;^-^;-^^ayi,^ 
 
 business -indeed for alf^ ^'-^'■^^■ti-time for men in 
 the English fu-^n fnn "'^V"'^^ ^''' '""^'''^^ i" 
 unsounl. I 1^;^^";^ Jnl Kta "^^^^ 
 to -to invest some money in the a- ^'^^ ^ 
 
 most rare resn-es-responaZponsfb ht T"" ''"'^^ ' 
 nie; I am cautious in _ in T'^' J- ""'^ '^>'' ^^'^ 
 
 r<;i„ ui-u'us m — in recommending hnf «;» 
 
 Cxiles was an old frjpnri „ ""'"o — out bir 
 
 your Ship", rfif -r f :!,' ""'™ '°-'» "O"- 
 
 three per cenl, „„d Excheouet b.IlT l . f "i"" 
 
 wa™„.,„„.,„,,Ho„sn^«:S;L'"irt:3 
 
 I ! 
 
144 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 " Indeed! " sa d l;,™ T" "''>■<■• " 
 
 his ears; « he ws a T 7' '""■'•■""'^■' "'"' P"*i"8 up 
 
 busi-hem-hem! Vis. r, '"^^ ''^)' ^ genius f„r 
 bus-bus-business, my i.^d^ »''' ^°""8 woman of 
 
 •TrS:'S;];-^An,,ni„„,aH,o,,sa,r. 
 
 speculation so sure in Anv-rin "^^ '° «°arce — 
 
 icans -^isi„, ,eop,e - gi- ■ - r'S' i"' ^'°- 
 
 -ore a thousand tl„nksl yo^'Z-f"-'''' ~ '"'^ 
 
 carriage. through the outer office to the 
 
 And Lumley threw hZ u T^' ^«"«« «f I'Ords." 
 high spirits. ^ ^'^''" ''^^k i" hi« carriage in 
 
ALICK; OK, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 145 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Onblie do Tullie, et bravo' .In Sdnat.J 
 
 VoLTAiKK : JJrutus, Act ii. Sc. 1. 
 
 Ix the Lords that evening the discussion was animated 
 and prolonged it was the last party debate of tirses- 
 sion._ The as ute Opposition did not neglect to brine 
 
 on which It was whispered that there existed some 
 
 faTe'hfs tf""" ^'^^^^C^^"-*- LordVargrave o" 
 late his temper was excited by the good fortune of his 
 Jay's negotiation; he felt himself of more impo tance 
 than usual, as a needy man is apt to do when he has "o 
 a large sum at his banker's; moreover, he was exa plr 
 ated by some personal allusions to himself, wh oh had 
 been delivered by a dignified old lord who dated h^ 
 family rom the Ark. and was as rich as Crcesus A 
 
 vigor. His first sentences were welcomed with loud 
 cheers; he warmed; he grew vehement; ho uttered the 
 most posi ive an.l unalterable sentiment; upon helu 
 TiTf *«' he greatly transgressed the dis re ion 
 
 itjetl ^f "'^'■^'^^ party were desirous to mal 
 nstead of conciliating without compromising, he irri 
 
 tated. galled, and compromised. The angry Ver of 
 he opposite party were loudly re-echoed b/the ch e f 
 
 of the more hot-headed on his own side. The premLr 
 
 and some of his colleagues observed, however, aTody 
 1 Forgotten by Tully. a.ul bullied by the Senate. 
 10 
 
ri 
 
 146 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIKS. 
 
 silence. The premier once took a note, and then re- 
 seated himself, and drew his hat more closely over his 
 brows. It was an ominous sign for Lumley; hut he 
 was looking the Opposition in the face, and did not ob- 
 serve It. He sat down in triumph, he had made a most 
 ettective and a most mischievous speech, — a combination 
 extremely common. The leader of the Opposition re- 
 plied to him with bitter calmness; and when citing 
 some of his sharp sentences, he turned to ;iio premior, 
 and asked, " Are these opinions those also of the noble 
 lord ? ^^ I call for a reply, _ I have a right to demand a 
 reply. Lumley was startled to hear the tone in which 
 his chief uttered the comprehensive and significant 
 " Hear, hear ! " 
 
 At midnight the premier wound up the debate; his 
 speech was short, and characterized by moderation 
 He came to the question put to him; the House was 
 hushed, — you might have heard a pin drop; the 
 Commoners behind the throne pressed forward with 
 anxiety and eagerness on their countenances. 
 
 " I am called upon," said the minister, "to declare if 
 those sentiments uttered by my noble friend are mine 
 also, as the chief adviser of the Crown, My lords, in 
 the heat of debate every word is not to be scrupulou.-ly 
 weighed, and rigidly interpreted." ("Hear, hear '" 
 ironically from the Opposition, approvingly from the 
 Treasury benches.) « My noble friend will doubtless 
 be anxious to explain what he intended to say. I hope 
 — nay, I doubt not — that his explanation will be satis- 
 factory to the noble lord, to the House, and to the coun- 
 try. But since I am called upon for a distinct reply to 
 a distinct interrogatory, I will say at once that if those 
 sentiments be rightly interpreted 1)y the noble lord who 
 spoke last, those sentiments are not mine, and will 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 147 
 
 never animate the conduct of iny Cabinet of which I 
 am a meml)or." (Long-continued cheering from the 
 Opposition.) "At the same time, I am convinced that 
 my noble friend's moaning has not been rightly con- 
 strued; and till I hear from himself to the contrary I 
 will venture to state what I r^nk he designed to convey 
 to your loflships. " IJ ;n, the p emicr, with a tact that 
 nobody could be duped by but , jry one could admire 
 stripped Lord Vargra.V,, unbu ry sentences of every 
 syllable that could give > 5enc? .0 any one, and left the 
 pointed epigrams and vei oment denunciations a most 
 harmless arrangement of commonplace. 
 
 The House was much excited; there was a call for 
 Lord Vargrave, and Lord Vargrave promptly rose. It 
 was one of those dilemmas out of which Lumley was 
 just the man to extricate himself with address. There 
 was so much manly frankness in his manner; there 
 was 80 much crafty subtlety in his mind! He com- 
 plained, with proud and honest bitterness, of the con- 
 struction that had been forced upon his words by the 
 Opposition. " If," he added (and no man knew better 
 the rhetorical effect of the tu guoque form of argument), 
 — " if every sentence uttered by the noble lord opposite 
 in his zeal for liberty had, in days now gone by, been 
 construed with equal rigor, or perverted with equal 
 ingenuity, that noble lord had long since been prose- 
 cuted as an incendiary, perhaps executed as a traitor' " 
 Vehement cheers from the ministerial benches, cries of 
 Order! " from the Opposition. A military lord rose 
 to order, and appealed to the Woolsack. 
 
 Lumley sat down, as if chafed at the interruption- he 
 had produced the effect he had desired, _ he had changed 
 the public question at issue into a private quarrel A 
 new excitement was created, — dust was thrown into 
 
148 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 
 m ^) 
 
 the eyes of the House. Sevoral speakers rose to accom- 
 modate matters; and after lialf an liour of public time 
 had been properly wasted, the nol)le lord on the one 
 side, and the noble lord on the other, duly explained, 
 paid each other the liiglie.st possi^ible compliments, and 
 Lumley was left to conclude liis vindication, which 
 now seemed a comparatively flat matter after the late ex- 
 plosion. He completed his task so as to satisfy, appar- 
 ently, all parties, —for all parties were now tired of the 
 thing, and wanted to go to bed. But the next morning 
 there were whispers about the town, articles in the 
 different papers, evidently by authority, rejoicing among 
 the Opposition; and a general feeling, that, though 
 the government might keep together that session, its 
 dissensions would break out before the next meeting of 
 Parliament. 
 
 As Lumley was wrapping himself in his cloak after 
 this stormy debate, the Marquess of Raby — a peer of 
 large possessions, and one who entirely agreed with 
 Lumley 's views — came up to him, and proposed that 
 they should go home together in Lord Raby's carriage. 
 Vargrave willingly consented, and dismissed his own 
 servants. 
 
 "You did that admirably, my dear Vargrave! " said 
 Lord Raby, when they were seated in the carriage. " I 
 quite coincide in all your sentiments; I declare my 
 
 blood boiled when I heard [the premier] appear 
 
 half inclined to throw you over. Your hit upon 
 
 was first-rate, — be will not get over it for a month, — 
 and you extricated yourself well." 
 
 " I am glad you approve my conduct, — it comforts 
 me," said Vargrave, feelingly. " At the same time I see 
 all le consequences; but I can brave all for the sake of 
 character and conscience." 
 
ALTCK; OR, THK MVSTEItlKS. 
 
 149 
 
 "I feel just as yo,. do!" replied Lord Raby witl. 
 some warmth; "and if I thought that — Znntt 
 y.eld th.s question, I should certainly op,^ h 
 aihninistration. " "h'^&o ins 
 
 Vargraye shook his head, and held his tongue which 
 gave Lord Raby a high idea of his discretion ' 
 
 After a few more observations on political matters 
 WR.^.W.dLumleytopayhimavisit:rh^ 
 
 "I am going to Knaresdean next Monday: you know 
 we have races in the park. -and really they'are son^ 
 times good sport: at all events, it is a very pfettv ri 
 
 just at hand, and if you can spare the time, Ladv R.bv 
 and myself will be delighted to see you." ^ ^ 
 
 You may be sure, mv dear Inr,] t „„„ i. 
 
 capital fdbwY,^'^^ ;'^'^^""-- ™-^-P-tableman, 
 capital fellovv the best parson in the county, _ no cant 
 
 but thoroughly orthodox. He certainly k eps in h ^ 
 
 brother, who, though a very active member, fs wha J 
 
 is"vith"hi! ^T ^^r;' f '^ y^'-- "^^ -^^auaintance 
 iVl V ^""Z d'-^ugbter, _ a very fine girl, by 
 
 the^bye. My ward. Miss Cameron, if staying ^Z 
 
 " Miss Cameron ! - Cameron _ ah ! _ I understand • r 
 
150 
 
 ALICE ; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 "Perhaps you will take a seat in our carriage on 
 Monday ? " said Lord Raby. 
 
 "Monday? Unhappily I am engaged; but on Tuesday 
 your lordship may expect me. " 
 
 " Very well ; the races begin on Wednesday. We 
 shall have a full house; good-night! " 
 
 '*.. 
 
ALICE: OK, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 151 
 
 CHAPTEIv V. 
 
 Homunculi quanti aunt, cum recogito.i _ Plaotds. 
 
 uoon ff ''°r/^'* ^'' "^^"^ ^^^^^"^ ^^ ^^^^ be brief 
 Lord Vargrave was employed. It would. Indo.d 
 be scarcely possible td preserve the necessary medum 
 between too plain a revelation and too compL d" ^ 
 guise. It suffices therefore, very shortly to r'epeat what 
 the reader has already gathered from what has lone 
 before; namely, that the question at issue was'ol 
 which has happened often enough in all governments 
 one on wh.ch the Cabinet was divided, fnd in which 
 strongeT " '"'" "" ^'^'"'"""« '^ -^'^'^-k Ihe 
 
 hea^nf '^f '''*r*'' ^"'"''"''"^ '^''' ^°°"«^ ^^ ^^^r the 
 head of the gathering must break, were again divided 
 
 Tv^to fT'"^ ^^''^'^ *° '-''^'^ to'stay -"11 
 strive to force a resignation on their d^-ssentient col- 
 
 eagues. The richer and the more hon..t were for the 
 
 latter. We have seen that the latter policy was that 
 
 not in the Cabinet, always contrived somehow or other 
 to worm ou ite secrets) ,-. at the same tin^.. he by no 
 means rejected the other string to his bow. if it we^e 
 possible so to arrange and to strengthen his fadC 
 
 coLm"""*' '°" ^'"* ^°"' ^'"'^ ™- - in thei, own 
 
i 'I 
 
 152 
 
 ALICE; on, TIIH MYSTEIUES. 
 
 i. 4 
 
 il 
 
 that by the coup d'efat of a sudden resignation in a 
 formidable body, the whole government might be broken 
 up, and a new one formed from among tlie resignees 
 It wo.v. obviously be the best phm. But then, Lord 
 Vargrave ■. as doubt^il of his OM-n strength, and fearful 
 to piay into the hands of hi. colleagues, who might bo 
 able to stand even better witiiout himself and his allies 
 and, by conciliating the Opposition, take a step onward 
 m political movement which might leave Vargrave 
 placeless and powerless for years to come. 
 
 He repented his own rashness in the recent debate, 
 which was, indeed, a premature boldness that had 
 sprung out of momentary excitement, -for the craftiest 
 orator must be indiscreet sometimes. He spent the next 
 few days in alternately seeking to explain away to one 
 party, and to sound, unite, and consolidate the other 
 His attempts in the one quarter were received by the 
 premier with the cold politeness of an offended but 
 careful statesman, who believed just as much as he 
 chose and preferred taking his own opportunity for a 
 breach with a subordinatn to risking any imprudence by 
 the gratification of resentment. In the last quarter, ihe 
 penetrating adventurer saw that his ground was more 
 insecure than he h. : - ticipated. He perceived, in 
 dismay and secret rage, that many of those most loud in 
 his favor while he was with the government, would 
 desert him the soonest if thrown out. Liked as a sub- 
 ordinate minister, he was viewed with very different 
 eyes the moment it was a question whether, instead of 
 cheering his sentiments, men should trust themselves to 
 his guidance. Some did not wish to displease the 
 government; others did not seek to weaken, but to cor- 
 rect them. One of his stanchest allies in the Commons 
 was a candidate for a peerage; another suddenly remem- 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. I53 
 
 tlie head, he would U. fl,„ "°"„1''")'' »' ""h-cli, if not 
 
 country gentlemen, and the dull puWi. , ' "'°'^ ''— ' 
 
 Alarned, wearied, and disrrnstp,! fj.o i, 
 himself reduced to submission fo; ''^'"'"'' '''' 
 
 and more than ever he ^1^; ' P'"'""* "* ^<^^«t' 
 
 fortune to fall back .Sn " , "^f"'^ '' ^^"^^'"'« 
 
 j^*w;hi„,t„dir:r,:rntrth^— ^^^ 
 
 terest of a sanguine and elastic mind alw-iv, . 
 fron^one^^^^^^^^ 
 
 large and unencumbered bTto ' F'^P"*^ "'*^ ''"^^ 
 importance in the eyes of no, • "''"'' '"^ ^^^^ ^^°» 
 verys^,„,,,„,^^,,^^-;j P^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ in 
 
 to his nomination at least nnl * .u ™"'^ '"'"''«<* 
 while a little vilhJjT\" ""f *^' 'representatives, 
 constituted a borough . "^ '^ ""'' Pleasure-ground 
 Parliament/ Lordtoir '' "'"^'^ *"° ^^"^^ers to 
 Continent, had not tnTr"'".^' -turned from the 
 and though hTs famiir ^T- ^'' '''' '"^ '^' ^^^^ds; 
 
 -and th!y ^:JZ^l~Z^ r ^^ ''-'.--- 
 fashion, — werfi min.-Ir- t T^' ''^ "° ""^^ns in ihe 
 
 yet nnrUealTd "^^""'^"^^' ^^« ^^^ opinions were as 
 
 Ma.s Mell formed to attract men 
 
154 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE AiVSTKL'iSS. 
 
 
 younger than himself; and ho eminently succeeded in 
 his designs upon Lcnl Doltimoi(,\s affection. 
 
 His lordship was i small, pale man, v-ith a very 
 limited share of understanding, st'percilioi!s ;u manner, 
 elaborate in dress, not ill-natured au fond, and v/itli 
 much of tho English gentleman in his disjiontion : that 
 is, ^^e was honorable in his ideas and actions, wlien^v/er 
 I-Js natural dulness and neglected education enabled him 
 clearly to perceive (through the midHt of prejudices, the 
 delusi'.?;. of Citljers, and the false lights of the dissi- 
 pated soiiety in which he had lived) what was right 
 and what wrong. But his leading characteristics were 
 vanity and conceit. He had lived much with younger 
 sons, cleverer than himself, who borrowed Li3 money, 
 sold him their horses, and won from him at cards. In 
 return, they gave him all that species of flattery which 
 young men can give with so hearty an appearance of 
 cordial admiration. « You certainly ha ve the best horses 
 in Paris. You are really a devilish good fellow, Dolti- 
 more. Oh, do you know, Doltimore, what little Desire 
 says of you I You have certainly turned the eirl's 
 head." ^ 
 
 This sort of adulation from one sex was not corrected 
 by any great acerbity from the other. Lord Doltimore, 
 at the age of twenty-two, was a very good parti; and 
 whatever his other deficiencies, he had sense enough to 
 
 perceive that he received much greater attention 
 
 whether from opera-dancers in search of a friend, or 
 virtuous young ladies in search of a husband — than any 
 of the companions, good-looking though many of them 
 were, with whom he had habitually lived. 
 
 " You will not long remain in town now thv on is 
 over? " said Vargrave, as after dinner he four, u, self, 
 by the depi;:^ , re of the ladies, next to L ^ ^ imore. 
 
ALICE; OK, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 155 
 
 have many attractions!" ^ ' ^""^'^ °^"''* 
 
 "Why I have a good many friends here- but still 
 
 after Ascot, it rather bores me." ' *'"' 
 
 ^^' Have you any horses on the turf? » 
 
 luck /wat T^ /' '""^'"^ '^'' ^ should try my 
 
 juck. 1 was very fortunate in the races at P^rio 
 
 largely CU '^ ""=™mg papers that you had veiy 
 •' vL t\ ^ "' '"'^""^ "'' Knaresdean." '^ 
 
 Legarricierir.' ^t'"" "' '"^'"8 'Thunderer, 
 heboid out) - a Sod d ™ '." *^ <'""*' •>"' 
 purchase. How ve„*Ll ^"t*'' ""f '^o-meuds the 
 
 to Knaresdeanr- ^ ^^ '°° *'>"'<' >>« g^'-g 
 
 " Odd, iudfed, but most luckvl W. ™„ „„ » .i 
 ■f you are not better engaged » * *'*'"• 
 
 oleve a >„r „^ tl" „« '^ 1 ^"'"S "''"«' '""• «° 
 was sometW for hit t'alJ"",': 'V™' "" '""""■ " " 
 Ie»», the shy„l« ^o TJ X: he ''f 5""""" 
 himsel£,_he feared L™"^- ^^^^'^ed 
 Legard. ^° ™' '"'«''g'=<' ^ take doTO 
 
 fl 
 
156 
 
 ALICE; OK, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 Lumley smiled, and changed tlio conversation; and so 
 agreeable did ho make himself that when the party 
 broke up, and Lumley had ju.st shaken hands with his 
 host, Doltimore came to him, and said, in a little 
 confusion — 
 
 " I think I can put off Legard — if if you " 
 
 "That's delightful! What time shall we start? 
 Need not get down much before dinner, —one o'clock ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes! — not too long before dinner: one o'clock 
 will be a little too early." 
 
 " Two, then. Where are you staying ? " 
 
 "At Fenton's." 
 
 "I will call for you, —good-night I I long to see 
 Thunderer! " 
 
ALICE; ui£, THE MVSTKKIES. 
 
 157 
 
 t ; 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 ''fZ^'Zs^^:^^' =«". ^" CO,,. ,. 
 
 thrown 4ettlr i^'theLT P""'''"'' '''™«™<" 
 
 («.e shrewder observer f the LftT '"' *":""'"= 
 
 any suspicion that Evelyn had m^V ' '™'' '°™"' 
 
 'ravers, his manner at s'o", ttae?l°,°r™" °' ^a'" 
 
 Maltrave,.s was a man to ^1 f """""y '•""■^'ed il. 
 
 a hoy to yield to eL™™ t ' it;!; ^ '"j' ^ >™«.'f 
 
 's:/vrr„r,rraSi' "™'"' .^^'-'^ '"-^-^ 
 
 other, equal ; h! d- a™lr° 7^"'^ '^'""'' «' an- 
 as the suple^l, "tive aTn ""^ ""^^ *=>> '» «<>* 
 virtue was „°T,oE Now "■'"',"'' <■"««. -and that 
 
 ena„ou.d of Z' con^Jirnar^irri::;!? ttt""' "^n 
 
 r°er ovri^Lvrtr^^'--^" '^-^» "''° 
 
 justice has „ i Z,e hin^ „ ""' """ '^""'- '^'>« 
 
 on'o,,.ticearisrtt-rnrrrett,-^ 
 
 * The health cf J.a Hn„i .• „„(. 
 and although we : ■ y ap^L 17^ '"'' *''"" '''"* «^ ^''^ ^ody; 
 less danger of ...., auSHhal of tir '"'""r'' ''^^^^ *'^ ""' '^^ 
 are well. '''^ °^ ^a""»g sick at the moment wo 
 
158 
 
 ALICE ; Oil, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 11 
 
 "Honor!" said Maltravers, ' 'lor is to justice as 
 the flower to the plant, its effloiescence, its bloom, its 
 consummation! But honor that does not spring from 
 justice is but a piece of painted rag, an artificial rose, 
 which the men-milliners of society would palm upon ua 
 88 more natural than the true. " 
 
 This principle of justice Maltravers sought to carry 
 out in all things, — not, perhaps, with constant success; 
 for what practice can always embody theory 1 — but still, 
 at least, his endeavor at success was constant. This, 
 perhaps, it was which had ever kept him from the ex- 
 cesses to which exuberant tnd liberal natures are prone, 
 — from the extravagances of pseudo-genius. 
 
 " No man," for instance, he was wont to say, " can be 
 embarrassed in his own circumstances, and not cause 
 embarrassment to others. Without economy, who can 
 be just? And what are charity, generosity, but the 
 poetry and the beauty of justice 1 " 
 
 No man ever asked Maltravers twice for a just debt ; 
 and no man ever once asked him to fulfil a promise. 
 You ie^' that, come who- would, you might rely upon 
 his woru To li^m migiu have bei ii applied the witty 
 eulogium passed by Johnson upon a certain nobleman: 
 " If he had rmmised you an acorn, and the acorn-season 
 failed in iingiand, he woidJ have seut to Norway for 
 one!" 
 
 It was not, therefore, thr .^te Norman and ch'val- 
 rous spirit of honor, ^\ hich ne had worshipped in youth 
 as a part of the beau il f»nd becoming, b'lt which in 
 youth had yielded ten- ttion, as a sentiment ever 
 must yield to a pastion, but it was the more hard, 
 stubborn, and reflective principle, which wa» the later 
 growth of deeper and nobler wisdom, that regulatt the 
 conduct of Maltravers in this crisis of his life. Certain it 
 
ALICE; on, THH MYSTERIKS. 159 
 
 t>ut that IS for her to deci.lfl w>.,-i ..i- , ' 
 
 who can be \natit\JJT\- ? " *^' ^°'^'^ ^^^t^' 
 
 Agreeably to f . ""^'''"^ ^"^ *° ^reak it?" 
 
 -^greeaoiy to these notions, which th^ «r-,vM 
 
 renewed? Unon h/r 7^^ '""^^ "^^^ "^^ be 
 
 had Jl a7-l^r ^'^'^ ^"^ h^^ thoughts Maltravers 
 
 u maoe an impression not to be oblitprafr^rl au 
 wrote more freaupnflv *i,n ooiuerated. She 
 
 and the name f M I ''''' *° ^^^^ Vargra . 
 
 of her corre";onLt """ "" '"^^^ ^ ^-'p^^e 
 
 One evening, at the house of 
 
 Cameron (with°the M^ton ) ente7ed%he"'t'"' l""^" 
 'n the same instant as Ma tmvers 'tr"" '^'^''' 
 small, and so few h^A , ' '^"''^^^f^- The party was 
 
 sible for Ma traveTs witho1t""f /'I '' "" ^^P^" 
 his friends from fZ' J . ^'^'^ '"^""^^««' *« avoid 
 
 herself txfr E ef;if':;\r',''"- ''^^^•^^"' p^--g 
 
 t-ivers to occunv fbp /^ f ""^"^^y '"^«««ec. to Mai- 
 Which sheSM'e otT'e/"^"* ''^ °^ *^^ -^^' «^ 
 
IfiO 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTKIMKS. 
 
 " We grudge all your improvements, Mr. Maltravers, 
 since they cost us your sociiity. But we know that our 
 (lull circle must seem tame to one who has seen so uuicli. 
 However, we expect to offer you an inducement soon in 
 Lord Vargrave. What a lively, agreeable person he is!" 
 
 Maltravers raised his eyes to Evelyn, calmly and 
 penetratingly, at the latter part of this speech. He 
 observed that she turned pale, and sighed involuntarily. 
 
 "He had great spirits when I knew him," said he; 
 "and he had then less cause to make him happy." 
 
 Mrs. Merton smiled, and turned rather pointedly 
 towards Evelyn. 
 
 Maltravers continued, " I never met the late lord. 
 He had none of the vivacity of his nephew, I believe." 
 
 " I have heard that he was very severe," said Mrs. 
 Merton, lifting her glass towards a party that had just 
 entered. 
 
 "Severe!" exclaimed Evelyn. "Ah, if you could 
 have known him, — the kindest, the most indulgent — 
 No one ever loved me as he did." She paused, for 
 she felt her lip quiver. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, my dear," said Mrs. Merton, 
 coolly. Mrs. Merton had no idea of the pain inflicted 
 by treading iqion a feeling. Maltravers was touched, 
 and Mrs. Merton went on. " No wonder he was kind 
 to you, Evelyn, — a brute would be that; but he was 
 generally considered a stern man." 
 
 " I never saw a stern look, — I never heard a harsh 
 word; nay, I do not remember that he ever even used 
 the word ' command,' " said Evelyn, almost angrily. 
 
 Mrs. Merton was about to reply, when suddenly 
 seeing a lady whose little girl had been ill of the 
 measles, her motherly thoughts flowed into a new chan- 
 nel, and she fluttered away in that sympathy which 
 
 
AIJOE; oif, THK MYSTKRIES. ]fil 
 
 unites all the heads of a ,-rowins family. Evelvn and 
 Maltravers were loft alono ^ *"^ 
 
 MaltlTe:^ "'' """'"'" ^^^^ ^^">^^' I b«^-ve7" said 
 
 ">fo father but Lord Vargravo; while he Hva,! t 
 never knew the loss of one." ''^"^' ^ 
 
 " Does your mother resemble you 1 " 
 
 " Have you no pictiiro of horf » 
 
 I None, — she would never consent to sit " 
 
 that ™e """ ™ ° ''""°™^ ' "»™ I"""™ -^ of 
 
 livin^V"'""™ "' ■""'; "^ ">»">« "ay we have none 
 
 B— shtT" "" *'"" °' ""'"« ^»^^ Vargrave in 
 
 .. B,o:k"Z„'.°"" """"'^ ''"'''■"•'^ '" ""■"- -n 
 ^^Maltravers sighed, and the conversation took a ne,v 
 
 • I have to thank you for the books you so kindlv 
 ^er.^-1 ought to have returned the™ L Z^Z 
 
 no™ and tl^r 1 T .°™ "I"-««sions which every 
 Xnt '"'°""' "-^ ■"""""-^ "' h- natural 
 
 "Yes," said Maltravers. smilintr- « +»,„ w ■ 
 -to. Poor A,fieri,_in Lis""; -riiife'Ltrir 
 
 11 
 
162 
 
 ALICE; OK, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 passions he threw out all the redundance of his genius; 
 and his poetry is Init the representative of his thoughts,' 
 not his emotions. Happier the man of genius who 
 lives upon his reason, and waste- feeling only on his 
 verse ! " 
 
 " You do not think that we ivaste feeling upon human 
 beings ? " said Evelyn, with a pretty laugh. 
 
 "Ask me that question when you have reached my 
 years, and can look upon fields on which you have lav- 
 ished your warmest hopes, your noblest aspirations, 
 your tenderest aflfections, and see the soil all profit- 
 less and barren. ' Set not youi- heart on the things of 
 earth,' saith the Preacher." 
 
 Evelyn was affected by the tone, the words, and the 
 melancholy countenance of the speaker. 
 
 " You, of all men, ought not to think thus," said she, 
 with a sweet eagerness, — "you who have done so much 
 to awaken and to soften the heart in others ; you who ~ " 
 She stopped short, and added, more gravely, "Ah, Mr. 
 Maltravers, I cannot reason with you, but I can hope 
 you will refute your own philosophy." 
 
 "Were your wish fulfilled," answered Maltravers, 
 almost with sternness, and with an expression of great 
 pain in his compressed lips, " I should have to thank 
 you for much misery." He rose abruptly, and turned 
 away. 
 
 "How have I off'ended him?" thought Evelyn, sor- 
 rowfully. "I never speak but to wound him; what 
 have I done ? " 
 
 She could have wished, in her simple kindness, to 
 follow him and make peace, but he was now in a coterie 
 of strangers; and shortly afterwards he left the room, 
 and she did not see him again for weeks. 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 163 
 
 CHAPTER VII, 
 
 came down she misld l f;. ^"\"^«"""g ^^^en E.elyn 
 to establish for ersel th! 1^'' '''^ ^"^ '^^^^"v'd 
 stool beside Miss S^. ^'f''^^^^^ Privilege of a 
 
 appeared Mt^Z^:Z2:^'^^^^^^^^ ""''■ ^^-*- 
 «nwell,was feverish theT '^r/^'^^^' Sophy wus 
 neighborhood. Mrs\MloT ''" ^^' '^"^ ^" *^^« 
 
 " It is the more uniu W cloT' ">>'. T''^' 
 turning to Miss MerTn, ^^u tt' '''^' *'^ "^'^"-^' 
 we were to have snenf . f , ^^^-'^o^row, you know, 
 the races. iZZLIT f''' '' Knaresdean, to see 
 you and Miss cTnero. 1^ "°' ^^^ ^^*^-. ^ fear 
 send to Mrs Harp 7 i^ ^^ '"''^^^^^ «^e, I can 
 
 delighted^' "' '' '^ '"''' «^-P-on; she would be 
 
 "Poor Sophy; " said Caroline • « r .m 
 hear she is unwell; but I Z.l nl ^" ^«^y ^"orry to 
 great care of her you s„r«l . ^'^^"'' ^^^^^'^ ^^ko 
 
 i-s much worse," ^ '"^^ "'^^ "«' «^«y. unless she 
 
 hut Sophy was mu^toteteW 
 tor vtras sent for inri ^ "''*'"• 'J^he doc- 
 
 fever. '' '^^ P^'^^ounced it to be the scarlet 
 
 ^The..«ot,n-ngso,re..a.seheco„ect,-o„ofehe.i„„.e. 
 
164 
 
 ALIOK ; on, THR MYSTKHIKS. 
 
 
 
 rfe 
 
 
 1 p 
 
 
 1' is 
 
 
 1 jib 
 
 
 I'l \'' 
 
 
 ** i^ 
 
 
 
 
 Tt was now nocossary to guard against tho infection. 
 Carolino had liad tho coniplaiiit, and sho willingly shared 
 in hor mother's watch of love for two or three hours. 
 Mrs. Merton gave up tlio party. Mrs. Ifare (the wif(( 
 of a rich squiro in trie neighborhood) was written to, 
 and that lady willingly agreed to take charge of Caroline 
 and her friend. 
 
 Sophy had been left asleep. When Mrs. Merton 
 returned to her bed, she found Evelyn quietly stationed 
 there. This ahirmod her; for Kvelyn had never had the 
 scarlet fever, and had been forliiddcn the sick-room. 
 But poor little Sophy had waked and querulously asked 
 for her dear Evy; and Kvy, who had been hovering 
 round the room, heard the inquiry from the garrulous 
 nurse, and come in she would; and the cliild gazed at 
 her so beseechingly when Mrs. IVferton entered, and 
 said so piteously, " Don't take Evy away," tliat Evelyn 
 stoutly declared that slie was not tiie least afraid of in- 
 fection, and stay she must. Nay, her share in the nurs- 
 ing would be the more necessary since Caroline was to 
 go to Knaresdean the next day. 
 
 "But you go too, my dear Miss Cameron? " 
 "Indeed I could not: T don't care for races; I never 
 wished to go. I would much sooner have stayed; and 
 I am sure Sophy will not get well without me, — will 
 you , dear ? " 
 
 "Oh, yes, yes; if I'm to ke p you from the nice 
 races; I should be worse if I thought that." 
 
 "But I don't like the nice races, Sophy, as your 
 sister Carry does. She must go; they can't do without 
 her, — but nobody knows me, so I shall not be missed." 
 "I can't hear of such a thing," said Mrs. Merton, 
 with tears in her eyes, and Evelyn said no more then; 
 but the next morning Sophy mms still worse, and the 
 
ALICK; OR, TIIR MYSTEUILX Jfi^ 
 
 A momentary i);ui(r sliot •ip.t,c../v i > ', 
 
 in her ,":' T rl '""' »» ■*» -'«' ""o th r^L 
 ■n ne. lilac l»i,„„t ,u„l ,„,„ ,, , ™ 
 
 taming „„ i,„, ,.,,.3 ,,,. , „„, I ,tfn' '^• 
 
 pressed , child'., picas,,,-,. „t tl„ silt "f fi„ 
 claimed, "How ni,., .„„, ., T """''y' '»'■ 
 
 .esS;'':,at:ut ':,lf' '■' f r--' ™' "--^ i^- 
 
 be at the Kn^esdlr .^l i. wfT^ '"■' """■" 
 'here, and acco,„p„„y thTu^' i "T' "'™ 
 
 -decided Ca.lin':, ^Mle it ra;.l,.d'EJnr'"f°" 
 'ew minutes more Mr, H„„ ■ ? ^'"^W"- In a 
 
 ekd to escape pXrhe" vn"' ' '."'' °"'""'"°> 
 into the carriagl wH, „ i.Z T^TS'""' ''""'»'' 
 don't fret. I 'l ;„re she „ ifbe well t„ i" ^°" '"J 
 ".ind, Evelyn, you don't l^ZlZ' ""'''■ ""' 
 
 herttoTe'Li:"/:'''^ ^"' ^'«''»^' «» '' »»« 
 
166 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 after, When Sophy fell into a tranquil sleep, he thought 
 He might venture to canter across the country to the 
 race-ground, and return to dinner. 
 
 Days, nay, a whole week passed; the races were over 
 but Caroline had not returned. Meanwhile Sophy's 
 fever left her; she could quit her bed, her room; she 
 could come downstairs again, _ and the family wa. 
 happy It IS astonishing how the least ailment in 
 those little things stops the wheels of domestic life' 
 J^velyn fortunately had not caught the fever: she was 
 pale, and somewhat reduced by fatigue and confinement; 
 but she was amply repaid by the mother's swimming 
 look of quiet gratitude, the fatlier's pressure of the 
 hand, Sophy's recovery, and her own good heart, 
 ihey had heard twice from Caroline, putting olf her 
 return. Lady Raby was so kind, she could not net 
 away till the party broke up; she was so glad to hear 
 such an account of Sophy. 
 
 Lord Vargrave had not yet arrived at the Rectory to 
 stay; but he had twice ridden over, and remained there 
 some hours. He exerted himself to tlie utmost to please 
 Evelyn; and she -who, deceived by his manners, and 
 influenced by the recollections of long and familiar 
 acquaintance, was blinded to his real character — re- 
 proached herself more bitterly than ever for her repug- 
 nance to his suU and her ungrateful hesitation to obey 
 the wishes of her stepfather. 
 
 To the Mertons, Lumley spoke with good-natured 
 praise of Caroline: she was so much admired; she was 
 the beauty at Knaresdean. A certain young friend of 
 his, Lord Doltimore, was evidently smitten. The 
 parents thought much over the ideas conjured up by 
 that last sentence. 
 
ALICE; OK. THE MYSTERIES. jg^ 
 
 One moniiug, the garrulous Mrs Hare f 1 
 of the neigJiborhoo.l, called .f n tJ ' ''^ S^'^^^P 
 returned, two .lays b for 1 ^" ^^'''°'^^ ^^e had 
 too. had her tale to te l^f r ' .^"^.^^'"'^^^^ ^ «n'l she, 
 
 " I assure you 1 del Ar "'^ '"' ' '^'"1"^«^«- 
 all known that ia^he w "' "'°"' '' "^ '^^ -^ 
 have thought that L d VaTlvr^T"'' "^ ^^'^"^^ 
 n^irer. Most charmin. nLn ?' Tv ^" "'^"^^^* ^J" 
 for Lord DoItimore,\t'wTauftr 1^'^"'-^"' ^ 
 -,-no scandal. ^^ TowTt ^'a^t « ^^^^^"^^ 
 
 Klfei^tt'Ulrr-"^ 
 
 guesfareTftrow'1l^?^^^-;V T ^^^ °^ «'« 
 Vargra.e and your daughter 'r,^ ^r'"^ ^•' ^"^ 1^°^^ 
 Doltiniore, and Mrs and th m-^^'" ^'^^'^^'^' ^"'^ ^^'^ 
 -t went 'the sam: da^Vd^d^""^^ Cipher. -all the 
 
 '" iff " f^ '^'- ^^^^^^"' ^'^ «o'"e surprise 
 
 haps Lord Doltimo"'h7-" T "' \'l ^"* P^ 
 excuse me / " ' ^ ' "" "° «°andal now — do 
 
 ^^"^Z:^n:ion^^^^^^^ *d Mrs. 
 
 with any other ,ueS Evelvn ' "' ""^'^^^^^ 
 paper hors. for Sophy who I ? ^j;^\«"t«ng out a 
 -was lying on the^oft aL? i'tTullff T"^^ '^^" 
 fairy fingers. "Naughty Ev, vjl .^ ^'"?'"^ ^^^ 
 horse's head!" •'^' ^ " ^^^^ cut oflf the 
 
 "Mr. Maltravers —nn T fu- i 
 there. Lord Rab^'aTked' h" ^"^. "'^' ^°' ^« ^«« "ot 
 
168 
 
 ALICK; OK, TIIK MYSTERIES. 
 
 
 It I. 
 
 : i 'Ji 
 
 ajyropos of Mr. Maltravers : I met him not a quarter of 
 an hour ago, this morning, as I was coming to you. You 
 know we liave leave to come througli liis park, and as I 
 was in the park at the time, I stopped the carriage to 
 speak to him. I tohl him that I was coming here, and 
 that you had had the scarlet fever in the house, which 
 was the reason you liad not gone t(> tlie races; and he 
 turned quite pale, and secerned so alarmed. I said we 
 were all afraid that Miss Cameron should catch it; and 
 excuse me — ha, ha! — no scandal I hope — but — " 
 
 "Mr. Maltravers," said the butler, throwing open 
 the door. 
 
 Maltravers entered with a quick and even a hurried 
 step; he stopped short \/hen he saw Evelyn; and his 
 whole countenance was instantly liglitened up by a 
 joyous expression, which as suddenly died away. 
 
 "This is kind, indeed," said Mrs. Merton; "it is 
 so long since we have seen you. " 
 
 "I have been very much occupied," muttered Mal- 
 travers, almost inaudibly, and seated himself next 
 Evelyn. "1 only just heard — that — that you had 
 sickness in the house — Miss Cameron, you look pale — 
 you — you have not suffered, I hope? " 
 
 "No, I am quite well," said Evelyn, with a smile; 
 and she felt happy that her friend was kind to her once 
 more. 
 
 " It 's only me, Mr. Ernest," said Sophy; «yoa have 
 forgot me ! " 
 
 Maltravers hastened to vindicate himself from the 
 charge, and Sophy and he were soon made excellent 
 friends again. 
 
 Mrs. Hare, whom surprise at this sudden meeting 
 had hitherto silenced, and who longed to shape into 
 elegant periphrasis the common adage, " Talk of, etc.," 
 
ATJCE; or, the MYSTERIES. 
 
 169 
 
 " »o j„,l come to th'wlT\r M ''""• 
 "and look at my ,"„, „ n ' '*f .M""""." -^M «he, 
 Kaby admfro, i7JZr °:""'' "'" » P'^''^ Lady 
 
 'ook the hint, an'. flltSrS'-: ,«- Merton 
 room. "® 80od lady out of the 
 
 Hare";.':;, •:;:• x^r *^- ''°"°"'" --^ ".. 
 
 room, that inte^pr^tt" 7„ T "'° '" "^ '■"'"^- 
 leftandthe hall, "do v„, ? , T"""™' ""J ^d 
 
 ana M. Malt.a;e„te^r;:;;S:,^°'^ '"-^^ 
 „?.°';"'''=«'i>'V<loyouask?» 
 
 a.o„?'hi::,r;:;;rii"reart7 "if-? ^"^^ 
 
 member what his l„rd«h p S' .'"''."""j' I don't re- 
 as if there ™ a little Je" ' 2 , ", r"T* '" ^''''^ 
 very anxiously if Mr M,!,,.,,, ' "" '"' 'nqmred 
 
 tory and looL dis^^ ^^^^^^^^ ^^ tl. Rec- 
 
 'Such near neighbors. Ym. Ml . "'''^ ^°" ^"« 
 
 ha. ha! -but wo'e su o d ^^7' "^^ '"'"' - 
 Vargrave is coming to at her ^T^'i~'^^ ^^ I^ord 
 to meet.-you 'Il'ex:us!r .f ^l^.^e r?^^^^^^^^'^^ 
 him he need not be jealous of Mr m'u^^^''^^ *° *^" 
 ha! -- not a marrying man at all Butl d Tm''':^ ^'' 
 Caroline was the attraction, -1 vou 'II "'^ ^^^'^^ 
 
 scandal , - ha, ha ! But after «^ l r "T'' "^" •' "« 
 must be the man-wei, 7 . ' ^"'^ Doltimore 
 ' ""'"' g°«d-morning. i y^ought 
 
 fli 
 
nV^ 
 
 
 170 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTKRIES. 
 
 I M just give you this hint. Is not the phaeton pretty ? 
 Kind compliments to Mr. Merton." 
 
 And the lady drove off. 
 
 During this confabulation, Maltravers and Evelyn 
 were left alone with Sophy. Maltravers had continued 
 to lean over the child, and appeared listening to her 
 prattle; while Evelyn, having risen to dliake hands 
 with Mrs. Hare, did not reseat herself, but went to the 
 window, and busied herself with a flower-stand in the 
 recess. 
 
 " Oh, very fine, Mr. Ernest," said Sophy (always 
 pronouncing that proper name as if it ended in th), 
 " you care very much for us to stay away so long, — 
 don't he, Evy? I've a great mind not to speak to you, 
 sir, that I have ! " 
 
 " That would be too heavy a punishment, Miss Sophy, 
 — only, luckily, it would punish yourself; you could 
 not live without talking, — talk, talk, talk! " 
 
 " But I might never have talked more, Mr. Ernest, if 
 mamma and pretty Evy had not been so kind to me ; " 
 and the child shook her head mournfully, as if she had 
 pitie de soi-meme. " But you won't stay away so long 
 again, will you? Sophy play to-morrow: come to- 
 morrow, and swing Sophy, — no nice swinging since 
 you 've been gone." 
 
 While Sophy spoke, Evelyn turned half round, as if 
 to hear Maltravers's answer; he hesitated, and Evelyn 
 spoke : — 
 
 "You must not tease Mr. Maltravers so: Mr. Mal- 
 travers has too much to do to come to us," 
 
 Now this was a very pettish speech in Evelyn, and 
 her cheek glowed while she spoke ; but an arch, provok- 
 ing smile was on her lips. 
 
 " It can be a privation only to me, Miss Cameron,* 
 
ALICE; OR. THE MYSTERIES. 171 
 
 brought u " htahi LTtet' "" ™*""= "■""• 
 
 herself. Heforsot f™M ""«"'« with Evelyn 
 
 offended; perhaps I T ~^ ^ ^"^^ ^^'^ ^'^^'^ been 
 hurt you! " ^ ^ ^ - ''^'^ - ««"^«""ng that - that 
 
 been quarrelling, naughty Ernest?" ^"^' -^^^ '-« 
 
 "itnl'tX; Isl-gttta'f ^ ^"-^ ^^'^^^-^• 
 simplicity: "lefusmatf .' !? '^' ""^'^ enchanting 
 hand to MaltraverT "^^ '"'^ '^' ^'^^ <>"* he? 
 
 3aif htXt'e^fth'^ ''^' 'r '^ ^^'^ ^^P^- " ^^-J " 
 tremor t^httVl"^^^^^^^^ g-e a 
 
 society n.akes me'dSenleTw th^ "'^"; ''^* ^°- 
 and as solitude must be 2 LTli7 T^'^ ^'''''' 
 m^li to it betimes. " '^'' ^ '^'^ *° ^n^'e 
 
 reairto'de^fdf '^^Tt""^^^ °^ "°*' " ^ ^^ ^he 
 She apoioSz diof h T" '''"'"^^ *^ ^^ ^^^m. 
 
 and the ntZCt' nLf'^'Zlt'''^^^ ""''- ^- 
 then she asked Maltrxvr fT^ ^^'' ^^' "°^«:^^ «°d 
 
 Maltrave. .epliej „,„, „„,j,,,, ,,^^^,,^ ^ _^^^ ^^^ 
 
 fH 
 
II ' w 
 
 U 
 
 172 
 
 ALICE; OR, TIIK MYSTERIES. 
 
 that honor; that Vargrave had callcl on liim in hi« way 
 from the Rectory the other day, but that ho was from 
 home, and that ho had not seon him for sumo years. 
 
 " He is a person of most prepossessing manners " 
 said Mrs. Merton. ' 
 
 " Certainly, — most prepossessing." 
 " And very clever. " 
 " He has great talents. " 
 " He seems most amiable. " 
 
 Maltravers bowed, and glanced towards Evelyn, 
 whose face, however, was turned from him. 
 
 The turn the conversation had taken was painful to 
 the visitor, and he rose to depart. 
 
 «lWhaps,»said Mrs. Merton, " you will meet Lord 
 VaTg)«e at dinner to-morrow; he will stay with us a 
 few (l,i,yii, — as long as he can be spared." 
 
 Maltravers meet Lord Vargrave! the happy Var- 
 grave* the betrothed to Evelyn! Maltravers witness 
 the familiar rights, the enchanting privileges accorded 
 to another! — and that other one whom he could not be- 
 lieve worthy of Evelyn ! He writhed at the picture the 
 invitation conjured up. 
 
 "You are very kind, my dear Mrs. Merton, but I 
 expect a visitor at Burleigh, — an old and dear friend 
 Mr. Cleveland." 
 
 "Mr. Cleveland! — we shall be delighted to see him 
 too. We knew him many years ago, during your mi- 
 nority, when he used to visit Burleigh two or three 
 times a-year. " 
 
 " He is changed since then ; he is often an invalid. 
 I fear I cannot answer for him ; but he will call as soon 
 as he arrives, and apologize for himself. " 
 
 Maltravers then hastily took his departure. He 
 would not trust himself to do more than bow distantly 
 
 la J. 
 
way 
 'rom 
 
 irs." 
 
 AMCE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 173 
 
 ^ence from the Uectovy ■ and whv ? l. ~ ^'' ^^* 
 
 she was offended- biif n,n,.„ , "^^ grieved, 
 
 tolerant aud charilaW. ti,a," lo™! "''""™"<'». "« -ore 
 
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174 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 i I 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Arethuia. 'Tis well, my lord, your courting of ladies. 
 
 Claremont. Sure this lady has a good turn done her against her will, 
 
 Philaster. 
 
 In the breakfast-room at Knaresdean, the same day, and 
 almost at the same; hour, in which occurred the scene 
 and conversation at the Rectory recorded in our last 
 chapter, sat Lord Vargrave and Caroline alone. The 
 party had dispersed, as was usual, at noon. They heard 
 at a distance the sounds of the billiard-balls. Lord 
 Doltimore was playing with Colonel Legard, one of the 
 best players in Europe, but who, fortunately for Dolti- 
 more, had, of late, made it a rule never to play for 
 money. Mrs. and the Misses Cipher, and most of the 
 guests, were in the billiard-room looking on. Lady 
 Raby was writing letters, and Lord Raby riding over 
 his home farm. Caroline and Lumley had been for 
 some time in close and earnest conversation. Miss 
 Merton was seated in a large armchair, much moved, 
 with her handkerchief to her eyes. Lord Vargrave 
 with his back to the chimney-piece, was bending down, 
 and speaking in a very low voice, while his quick eye 
 glanced, ever and anon, from the lady's ccuntenance to 
 the windows, to the doors, to be prepared against any 
 interruption. 
 
 "No, my dear friend," said he, "believe me that I 
 am sincere. My feelings for you are, indeed, such as 
 no words can paint. " 
 
AI'ICE; OR, THK MYSTEfilES. 
 
 Then why ? " 
 
 to you that we are in thi's thf f '" ^^°^« «^Pl«ined 
 
 f • It is absolute '"ntsZ'Tn ^V" '""'^''^''^ 
 ;^Iiss Cameron. I never I^ *^'^ ^ ^'^°"Jd wod 
 
 r should have loved her- hTh '°" '^^"^ "^ ^-^^^ 
 companiedmyhand-butfor7 r*^ '"""^'^ ^'^^« ^c- 
 your superior mind! -!yef^?"^*°'^ ^^-^^-^tive beauty. 
 
 tracted me more than your blutr v ' ^'"' "^^""^ «t- 
 Jcmdred to my own, insLd S ,^"'' "^'"^^ «««"^ed 
 ambition which regards the f! ^« P'-^P^r and wise 
 pets, as counters, as'c^lmen F °' *'' "°^^^ ^ P^P" 
 ^rom heaven could not Ck" me!" ""''''!' ' ^^^^ 4el 
 «f l^fe,-. yield to my^nemL^r"?*^'^^^^* g«"^« 
 'travel the web I haveTvel I sf '""^ *^^ ^^^d-. 
 fnendship, my schemes! Thi" the ^ '"^ ^^^^*' "^3^ 
 affection that should exist bpfl •*'"" '^"'^ '^'gnified 
 
 the rest is the preJudi^S ch rn ""'^ '''' ^^^ ^" 
 
 but I rr- ' '"^ ^"^bitious, wor'jdiv T ■ 
 
 „ I <=ould give up all for you r » ^^' - ^ °^« it» ~ 
 
 ^ou :: me"tr;;;:r,;^:,-^^^-w the sacri^ce. 
 and this fate you aTwHl L to \'" ^'''"' ^^^^^^'^^ 
 you .Ao./^ 3hare, were't hf rej V'"' *^^« ^^^« 
 ;n you. But reverse th meda 7 ' ''f^ ^^«*«- 
 for une gone, debts pressing li*-, ^"^'''''^ ^^ ««<=«. 
 "dicule of embarrassnL t; tt \"*"'^ "°^"«"«. th 
 poverty and defeated amTit ' ! 'T^' "'"''^^^ to 
 t°^n on the poor penln m' TT^' ^" ^'^^"^ ^^^eign 
 -titled, a mendicant Tthl If ^^^^^ ^ ^^^^^ be 
 too, so eaten into by dennnd/ . ^ T'^'' ^"^ that, 
 not a grocer in the ifext "rttt '""'l' ""* ^^"^ - 
 -^ -me Of the retiredt^^^^ ^^^1^^ 
 
^i 
 
 176 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 [to 
 
 despised, in the prime of life, in the zenith of my 
 hopes! Suppose that I could bear this for myself, could 
 I bear it for you ? You, born to be the ornament of 
 courts! and you, could you see me thug, — life embit- 
 tered, career lost, — and feel, yenerous as you are, that 
 your love had entailed on mo, on us both, on our chil- 
 dren, this miserable lot? Impossible, Caroline! we are 
 too wise for such romance. It is not because we love 
 too little, but because our love is worthy of each other, 
 that we disdain to make love a curse! We cannot 
 wrestle against the world, but we may shake hands 
 with it, and worm the miser out of its treasures. My 
 heart must be ever yours; my hand must be Miss 
 Cameron's. Money I must have! — my whole career 
 depends on it. It is literally with me the highway- 
 man's choice, — money or life." 
 
 Vargrave paused, and took Caroline's hand. 
 "I cannot reason with you," said she; "you know 
 the strange empire you have obtained over me, and, cer- 
 tainly, in spite of all that has passed " (and "" Une 
 turned pale), "I could bear anything rather f hat 
 you should hereafter reproach me for selfish disiegard 
 of your interests, —your just ambition." 
 
 " My noble friend ! I do not say that I shall not feel 
 a deep and sharp pang at seeing you wed another; but 
 I shall be consoled by the thought that I have assisted 
 to procure for you a station worthier of your merits than 
 that which T can offer. Lord Doltimore is rich; you 
 will teach him to employ his riches well. He is weak; 
 your intellect will govern him. He is in love; your 
 beauty will suffice to preserve his regard. Ah, we shall 
 be dear friends to the last! " 
 
 More — but to the same effect — did this able and 
 crafty villain continue to address to Caroline, whom he 
 
 I; 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 177 
 
 alternately soothed, irritated fl..tf , 
 I^ove him she certa nlycd 4 f "!";'' '"' '''''''^'■ 
 extend; but perhaps hif r! k h "'" '" ^'' '=""'«J 
 
 to win her aLtio^ anr^t r'^"*' "' ^'^ '^'^'^'^^^ 
 '"ents. she had encrn'rald a "T',^^ '" ""b-'^-^^- 
 Evelyn should reject hT , /^^^ ^""^'^ ^^'^'^ ^^ 
 Under this imprZitn « td 1 iTf '^,"*'^^^ *« '-• 
 she had played with the serpent tif I f V"',"^"^"^^'' 
 her, and she could nnt .f ! , ''"^ ''''^'^"^ 
 
 folds. Shewa s^n^ere JT '^*J ,^^«-"a«on and its 
 for Lord Vargrav but'lTstfr^ '^ ^'"^ '"''^'^'^ ""'^h 
 J-r. FordiLultiest paC:r^'""^.'r'^'^PP^"'^'i 
 perhaps even for some ^fv o.f in"'''* '^ P'^^^^^' 
 but certainly not for penury „" In I ' 'T'' ''^^«'^' 
 listened by degrees with Z/ l^'^'^P'^S-honsel She 
 description' of V po er "n" f '"^ ^ ^^^^^^'^ 
 hers if she could secu Lc " 00,7''' "^ '''"^'^ ^' 
 and was in part consoled It Ue'tr*" .t ^"^"^^^' 
 again crossed her- and n..f thought of Evelyn 
 
 ;- mingled Ze comp'S; Tir.""^ ^'^'^'^y 
 Lord Vargrave thus coCap^Jd * ^ 't *^ "'^'^^ 
 lovely and so innocent. ^^^P'^^^^ ^o condemn one so 
 
 " But do not, Vargrave," she said « a 
 sanguine; Evelyn may r jec ty'u '7. ^ "°' "^ '^° 
 you with my eyes- it is nnll ^ '^''^' "«* see 
 
 yet forbids her'open/y^rreCThTfl^r^^^ "^"^^ - 
 engagement from which I know .w l^^^^^"^"* of an 
 
 if she does refuse, and'ou be Z ^r ^'""'^^^- ^^ 
 
 "Even in that case »"nf 17 '"'^ ^^"'^^^^^'s- " 
 
 turn to the Golt^doirnT;!^ alr^"^^' "' "^^^ 
 '«e ax» heiress, if „ot so eZ^'a^ETr '""* '"^ 
 enough, at least, to take fromT T f ^^"' "^^althy 
 of disreputable debt BlLXr "1^ the drag-chain 
 of her - Her heart is .still unoci^i^Ld"; " "'" ""* ^^^^^^ 
 
 12 
 
178 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 "True, as yet her affections are not engaged." 
 
 " And this Maltravers, — she is romantic, T fancy, — 
 did he seem captivated by lier beauty or her fortune? " 
 
 "No, indeed, I think not; he has been very little 
 with us of late. He talked to her more as to a child, 
 — there is a disparity of years. " 
 
 " I am many years older than Maltravers," muttered 
 Vargrave, moodily. 
 
 "You! but your manner is livelier, and therefore 
 younger! " 
 
 " Fair flatterer! Maltravers does not love me: I fear 
 his report of my character — " 
 
 "I never heard him speak of you, Vargrave; and I 
 ■will do Evelyn the justice to say that precisely as she 
 does not love, she esteems and respects you." 
 
 "Esteems — respects: these are the feelings for a 
 prudent Hymen," said Vargrave, with a smile. "But, 
 hark! I don't hear the billiard-balls; they may find us 
 here, — we had better separate." 
 
 Lord Vargrave lounged into the billiard-room. The 
 young men had just finished playing, and were about 
 to visit Thundeier, who had won the race, and was now 
 the property of Lord Doltimore. 
 
 Vargrave accompanied them to the stables; and after 
 concealing his ignorance of horseflesh as well as he 
 could, beneath a profusion of compliments on forehand, 
 hind-quarters, breeding, bone substance, and famous 
 points, he contrived to draw Doltimore into the court- 
 yard, while Colonel Legard remained in converse high 
 with the head groom. 
 
 " Doltimore, I leave Knaresdean to-morrow ; you go 
 to London, I suppose 1 Will you take a little packet 
 for me to the Home Office ? " 
 
ALICE; OK, THE MYSTERIES. I79 
 
 L.riJ.'^"""*™-' «'" ta 'ho county; p4 ,h, 
 you ar. „.,t,ken; I hav, „„ ftough^ that ^ M L 
 
 laughed rather fooli^ry ^'' '""' ^''"™°«' 
 
 gra'vr"mm„T! H'"'^' *'" "'^"ighted," e„id Var- 
 the Ctv ^f ;. » ™"'' ""^ ™*' I P^'ii'^' that 
 A DdLlT' ""°" """ '^ ' -'»'» Caroline, 
 
 The conversation dropped. 
 
 " I think that will be settled well " «o,-^ ^T 
 himself, as he was dressing te dtan er " CalT"'-^ 
 
 pirrrhfoirns--—^^^^^ 
 h:^td-^rStotrt'£^F^ 
 
 never lose an occasion. Besides DnU "'"''^ 
 
 and rich friends are ahvayf S. ^f ^r cLlte' 
 too. m my power, and she may be of serZ wTh ' 
 spect to this Evelyn, whom. iLtead oflo" J; 
 hate: she has crossed my path, robbed me of wealth 
 and now. if she does refuse me -but no I wTlT 
 think of that / " ' ^ ^'^^ "o<* 
 
180 
 
 ALICR; OK, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 MF 
 
 I 
 
 Out of our reach the gods have laid 
 
 Of time to come the event ; 
 And laugh to see the fools afraid 
 
 Of what the knaves invent. 
 
 Sedlex, from Lycophron. 
 
 The next day Cai*olino returned to the Rectory in Lady 
 Raby's carriage; and two hours after her arrival came 
 Lord Vargrave. Mr. Merton had secured the principal 
 persons in the neighborhood to meet a guest so distin- 
 guished, and Lord Vargrave, bent on shining in the eyes 
 of Evelyn, charmed all with his affability and wit. 
 Evelyn, he thought, seemed pale and dispirited. He 
 pertinaciously devoted himself to her all the evening. 
 Her ripening understanding was better able than hereto- 
 fore to appreciate his abilities; yet inwardly she drew 
 comparisons between his conversation and that of Mal- 
 travers, not to the advantage of the former. There was 
 much that amused, but nothing that interested in Lord 
 Vargrave's fluent ease. When he attempted sentiment, 
 the vein was hard and hollow; he was only at home on 
 worldly topics. Caroline's spirits were, as usual in 
 society, high, but her laugh seemed forced, and her eye 
 absent. 
 
 The next day, after breakfast. Lord "Vargrave walked 
 alone to Burleigh : as he crossed the copse tliat bordered 
 the park, a large Persian greyhound sprang towards him, 
 barking loudly; and lifting his eyes, he perceived the 
 form of a man walking slowly along one of the paths 
 
 V" 
 
 ll 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. ig^ 
 
 that intersected the woorl R« • , , 
 
 The. had not ti„ therLiStif f ^^^ ^^^• 
 few weeks before Florence's do.tl i naeetinga 
 
 science came across the hen e 'T Vl T "l 'v ^ "^ '''" 
 away from the past, - 'e "e "ll ^ ""'' ^'"'^ ^^"'^J 
 ardent man whom prJfV. T '"^ ^""""S' generous, 
 
 haa been ^^^^^tlf^'^'^'" ^'^ 
 
 beardless b'oy whtehe'rt °d „ ~'' °*"^ »"<' *= 
 Um, and J'whose ve;"!™"' ^rvlr" T"^"'' 
 eneed passion he, the eldT Ld T """^ '°'-'''""- 
 and tempted rose h^LlT '"' "'""•• •>"<» '«! 
 
 ".dmekncholya" rf : t;j T'T' '" "'^ 8"™ 
 
 now slowly approaehed hta^tTe "■'"'r""' "'° 
 career he had served to il,,, .' , "•" "*'"» P™'"' 
 
 bad P..ma:l7 o^d Th^^'r,'"' ""'^ ""'"'^ 
 consumed in exile !' f ^'""'» ''"<' be™ 
 
 «el«sh and"diXn;-hir;i;Ln°: "ad"' '"™. ,"'"'"'' ' 
 rini the inmate nf • j ^^ ^ Prepared! Cesa- 
 
 3-™.d -s„r.e:Ve vr:x;i„^;TL;t '" 
 
 conjured np. And to the soul ,vh oh the ?'? 
 
 and momentaiy remorse awakened I i!r """"""cd 
 Pered, "And'.thinkest 7k^X:t y'^""'" ^''''■ 
 
 -Mbe myste^^Vatre'seS^ -oT::™nJ:rS 
 
 The two men met; and witl, or, 
 seeraedthatof honest anrlr If ,• '""'*''"' ^^^^^ 
 
 .g-tatron • it is long since we have^lrnSed" ^"'" 
 Long. - vety long." answered Lumley. striving hard 
 
Hi 
 
 182 
 
 AUCK ; OH, TllK MYHTKItlKH. 
 
 t<i rognin liis wlf-poHSPHHion ; " yi'iirn luivo cliaiigi'il hh 
 both; but 1 trust it lias still l(>ft in you, hh it Iiuh in 
 mo, the ronioiiibranco of our old friciidHliip." 
 
 Maltmvors was Hihuit, and Lord Varj^ravo continuod,— 
 
 "You do not answnr n>o, Maltravor.s: can iioliticul 
 difforoncoH, oppoMto pursuits, or tlm nH>ni laps(( of tinio, 
 hnvo sufliced to croato nn irrcvocnbhi gulf bolvvooii uhI 
 Why may wo not bo friends again 1 " 
 
 " Frienda! " echoed MaltravofH; "at our ago that 
 word is not so lightly spoken, that tie is not so un- 
 thinkingly formed, as when wo wore yoiingor mon." 
 
 *' But may not the old tie bo renewed? " 
 
 " Our ways in life are different; and wero I to scan 
 your motives and career with tho scrutinizing eyes of 
 friendship, it might only servo to separate \>8 yet more. 
 I am sick of the groat juggle of ambition, and I have no 
 sympathy left for those who creep into tho pint-bottle, 
 or swallow tho naked sAvord. " 
 
 "If you despise the oxhibition, why, then, lot us 
 laugh at it together, for T am as cynical as yourself." 
 
 " Ahl " said Maltravors with a smile, half mournful, 
 half bitter, " but are you not one of tho impostors? " 
 
 " Who ought better to jvidge of tho Elousiniana than 
 one of tho initiated? But, seriously, why on earth 
 8ho\dd political differences part private friendships? 
 Thank Heaven! such has never been my maxim." 
 
 " If tho differences be tho result of honost convictions 
 on either side, no. But are you honest, Lumley ? " 
 
 " Faith, I have got into the habit of thinking so; and 
 habit 's a second nature. However, I daresay we ahull 
 meet yet in the arena, so I must not betray my weak 
 points. How is it, Maltravors, that thoy see so little 
 of you at the Rectory ? you are a great favorite there. 
 Have you any living that Charley Merton could hold 
 
 m 
 
AMOK; OK, THK MYHTKIdKH. 
 
 183 
 
 with his own? Yoii Hhako vour I.,.„,I a i t 
 
 ".i;^youofMi.Can.oron.n./i;;L';;:'"^"'^'^' 
 You Hpoak lightly. P.,rhap.syou-" 
 Fool dooply, _ you wen, «oi„K to nay. I do In 
 ho hand of my w«r,l. Evoly,, Cu.umoi,, I trust to o 
 am at onco the do.no.stic happin.s.s to which tvot 
 
 ZlrT " "'""«"• ""' ^''" ^'^"'^'' — y to ,:; 
 
 Lord Vargravn contiimcHi, after u short nauso " Th«„ . 
 
 rivals fl.nf »i ,; ' ^ ^'""'^» «v()n had I 
 
 "loaK an existing ongagomont." 
 
 - that of honor alono would bo hut a harsh tio " 
 
 Ana so," thoucht ho " f],,-„ • • 
 Vargravo! Why should / --■'"" " ^°"^^«^ ^- 
 
 deem him unworthy of the 
 
Ill 
 
 1 1 
 
 184 
 
 ALICE ; OR, THE MYHTKKIES. 
 
 treasure? May he not I>o worthier, at all events, than 
 this soured temper and erring heart ? And ho is assured 
 too of her affection! Why this jealous pang? Why 
 can the fountain within never he exhausted? Why, 
 through so many scenes and sufferings, have I still re- 
 tained the vain madness of my youth, — the haunting 
 susceptibility to love ? This is my latest folly. " 
 
BOOK ly, 
 
 SiMONIDBS. 
 
 A virtuous woman is mau's greatest nride. 
 
 "f 
 
I 
 
 'f al 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 u 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Abroad uneasy, nor content at home. 
 
 And Wisdom shows th. . without th'e cure. 
 
 Hammond: Elegies. 
 
 re ievod by the arrival ^f Mr C Sand tie "'.' 
 old gentleman when free from attacks of th« ^Z 
 which were now somewhat more frequent thanT ' 
 merly, was the same cheerful and n?e hLt n " 
 as ever. Amiahlo „ri. """ misiiigent person 
 
 sation was unsatisfactory and h,-« nMi u '°"''^'' 
 chilling. ^' ^'^ philosophy somewhat 
 
 car7orthf r ^ iJ ^l'"''^ ^"'^ «"^P"««d I -^ at your 
 Zyj, ^h srn'^ndti?^:^^ '' Maltraversfa: 
 loiterel observanTy^lrug ^ S^^^^^^^^^^ '' 
 
 where the presence of thf mastefT ' ''' ''"^■ 
 And certainly the praise was deserved f Th. a 
 
 the weeds no longer eneumbored the walke w^ 
 wa. j„,t assisted and relieved by artrtuilo/it; 
 
tt~~" 
 
 ll: 
 
 = ? a 
 
 il 
 
 If'-- *■. 
 
 m 
 
 188 
 
 ALICK; OK, THK MYSTFRIKS. 
 
 oppressed by too officious a service from her handmaid. 
 Jn the house itscdf, some suitable and appropriate re- 
 pairs and decorations — with such articles of furniture 
 as combined modern comfort with the ancient and pic- 
 turesque shapes of a former fashion — had redeemed tlie 
 mansion from all appearance of dreariness and neglect; 
 while still was left to its quaint halls and chambers the 
 character which belonged to their architecture and asso- 
 ciations. It was surprising how much a little exercise 
 of simple taste had effected. 
 
 " I am glad you approve what I have done," said Mal- 
 travers. " I know not how it was, but the desolation of 
 the place, when I returned to it, reproached me. We 
 contract friendship with places as with human beings, 
 and fancy they have claims upon us; at least, that is my 
 weakness." 
 
 " And an amiable one it is too; I share it. As for 
 me, I look upon Temple Grove as a fond husband upon 
 a fair wife. 1 am always anxious to adorn it, and as 
 proud of its beauty as if it could understand and thank 
 mo for my partial admiration. When I leave you, I 
 intend going to Paris, for the purpose of attending a 
 
 sale of the pictures and effects of Monsieur De . 
 
 These auctions are to me what a jeweller's shop is to 
 a lover; but then, Ernest, I am an old bachelor." 
 
 " And I, too, am an Arcadian," said Maltravers, with 
 a smile. 
 
 "Ah, but you are not too old for repentance. Bur- 
 leigh now requires notning but a mistress." 
 
 " Perhaps it may soon receive that addition. I am 
 yet undecided whether I shaii sell it." 
 
 "Sell it! sell Burleigh! — the last memorial of 
 your mother's ancestry; the classic retreat of the 
 graceful Digbys! Sell Burleigh!" 
 
ALICE; Oi;, THi; .MV^iKiiiKs. jgg 
 
 thenj'f •'^^'"^'^^[^^^'^^'l to do so when I came hitl.or- 
 then I forswore the intention: now aeain T «nn. V 
 sorrowfully return to the idea." ^ sometimes 
 
 "And, in Heaven's name, why?'- 
 
 here, I find the range of action monotonous and confine 
 I began too soon to draw around me the large circumfe' 
 ence of literature and action; and the smal proTnc 1 
 sphere seems to me a sad going back in hft ^^T''^ 
 
 should not feel this were^y^oTnti:^ ItlyfttT: 
 It IS, -no, the wapderer's ban is on me ^n/V 
 
 turn towards the lands of excitementld^^Ii; 1 eT" 
 
 congeiL unioirit: l^^^l^tLT^ 
 temper xs domestic; your easy fortune and sobereiC 
 bition allow you to choose without reference to vorldT 
 considerations. Look round the world Td m^wS 
 
 re;;:et" ^'^"' ^^' '''' ^"^^^^^^ ^^^ -i^t^r-t 
 
 Maltravers shook his head, and sighed. 
 1 do not say," continued Cleveland, wrant in tb« 
 
 a mere girl. -but an amiable woman, who, like your- 
 self has seen something of life, and knows how to reckon 
 
 ' Yoniv '^.'^ ''""'T' "^^^ ''' enjoyment " 
 You have said enough," said Maltravers imna- 
 tontly: "an experienced woman of the world whose 
 
 N to'melb ^^" ^"' 'r^ '« ^--' What a pi tu 
 ^0 to me there is something inexpressibly beautiful in 
 nnocence and youth. But you say justl/, -my y als 
 are no those that would make a union with youth 
 desirable, or well suited." ^ 
 
 " I do not say tliat." said Cleveland, taking a pinch 
 
 
VI 
 
 Hf 
 
 190 
 
 ALICE ; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 of snuff; " hut you should avoid great disparity of age, 
 — not for the sake of that disparity itself, but because 
 with it is involved discord of temper, pursuits. A veri/ 
 young woman, new to the world, will not be contented 
 with home alone ; you are at once too gentle to curb her 
 wislies, and a little too stern and reserved (pardon me 
 for saying so) to be quite congenial to very early and 
 sanguine youth." 
 
 "It is true," said Maltravers, with a tone of voice 
 that showed he was struck with the remark ; " but how 
 have v/e fallen on this subject? Let us change it : I have 
 no idea of marriage, — the gloomy reminiscence of Flor- 
 ence Lascelles chains me to the past." 
 
 " Poor Florence ! she might once have suited you ; but 
 now you are older, and would require a calmer and more 
 malleable temper. " 
 
 " Peace, I implore you! " 
 
 The conversation was changed; and at noon Mr. 
 Merton, who had heard of Cleveland's arrival, called 
 at Burleigh to renew an old acquaintance. He invited 
 them to pass the evening at the Kectory; and Cleve- 
 land, hearing that whist was a regular amusement, ac- 
 cepted the invitation for his host and himself. But 
 when the evening came, Maltravers pleaded indisposi- 
 tion, and Cleveland was obliged to go alone. 
 
 When the old gentleman returned, about midnight, 
 lie found Maltravers awaiting him in the library; and 
 Cleveland, having Vv-on fourteen points, was in a very 
 gay, conversable humor. 
 
 "You perverse hermit!" said he; "talk of solitude, 
 indeed, with so pleasant a family a hundred yards dis- 
 tant! You deserve to be solitary, — I have no patience 
 with you. They complain bitterly of your desertion, 
 and say you were at first the enfant de la maison." 
 
alick; ok, the mysterfes. 
 
 191 
 
 "So you like the Mertons? Tlie clergyman is sen- 
 sible, but commonplace." 
 
 "A very agreeable man, despite your cynical defini- 
 tion, and plays a very fair rubber. But Vargrave is a 
 nrst-rate player." 
 
 " Vargrave is there still ? " 
 
 " Yes; he breakfasts with us to-morrow, — he invited 
 himself." 
 
 "Humph!" 
 
 " He played one rubber; the rest of the evening he 
 devoted himself to the prettiest girl I ever saw, -Miss 
 Cameron What a' sweet face,-, so modest, yet so in- 
 telligent! I talked with her a good deal during the 
 deals, in which I cut out. I almost lost my heart to 
 
 II So Lord Vargrave devoted himself to Miss Cameron ? " 
 ' To be sure, —you kno\v they are to be married soon. 
 Merton told me so. She is very rich. He is the lucki- 
 est fellow imaginable, that Vargrave! But he is much 
 too old for her; she seems to think so too. I can't 
 explain why I think it; but by her pretty, reserved 
 manner I saw that she tried to keep the gay minister at 
 a distance; but it would not do. Now, if you were ten 
 years younger, or Miss Cameron ten years oider, you 
 might have had some chance of cutting out your old 
 friend." 
 
 " So you think I also am too old for a lover ? " 
 
 " For a lover of a girl of seventeen, certainly. Yon 
 seem touchy on the score of age, Ernest." 
 
 " Not I; " and Maltravers laughed. 
 
 "No! There was a young gentleman present who, 
 I think, Vargrave might really find a dangerous rival • 
 a Colonel Legard, — one of the handsomest men I ever 
 saw in my life; just the style to turn a romantic young 
 
192 
 
 ALICE; on, TIIK MYSTKRIRS. 
 
 ft 
 
 lady's head; a mixturo of tlio wild and tlio tlinrongh- 
 brod; black curls, suiuirb eyes, and tlio noftcst maimers 
 in the world. But, to be sure, he bus lived all his life 
 in the best society. Not .so his friend, T^ord Doltimore, 
 who has a little too much of the {frcen-room lounge and 
 French cafe manner for my taste." 
 
 "Doltimore, Logard, — names new to me; I never 
 met them at the Kectory." 
 
 " Possibly ; they are staying at Admiral Legard's, in 
 the neighborhood. Miss Merton made their acquaint- 
 ance at Knaresdean. A good old lady — the most per- 
 fect Mrs. Grundy one would wish to meet with — vho 
 owns the monosyllabic appellation of Hare (and who, 
 being my partner, trumped my king!), assured me that 
 Lord Doltimore was desperately in love with Caroline 
 Merton. By the way, now, there is a young lady of a 
 proper age for you, — handsome and clever too." 
 
 " You talk of antidotes to matrimony ; and so Miss 
 Cameron — " 
 
 " Oh, no more of Miss Cameron now, or I shall sit up 
 all night; she has half turned my head. I can't help 
 pitying her, — married to one so careless and worldly 
 as Lord Vargrave; thrown so young into the whirl of 
 London. Poor thing! she had better have fallen in 
 love with Legard, which I daresay she will do, after 
 all. Well, good-night!" 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTElilES. 
 
 193 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Pfwsion, as frp(|iiently is seen, 
 vSuhsiding, .settles into spleen'; 
 Hence, as the plague of happy life, 
 I ran away from party strife. 
 
 Matthew Gbeen. 
 Here nyinpli.s from hollow oaks relate 
 The ^ark decrees and will of fate. 
 
 Ibid. 
 
 According to hi.s engagement. Vargravo breakfasted the 
 next mormng at Burleigh. Maltravens. at first, strug- 
 g ed to return his familiar conliality with equal graoiout- 
 ness. Condemning himself for former and unfounded 
 suspicions, he wrestled against feelings which he could 
 not or would not analyze, but which made Lumley an 
 unwelcome visitor, and connected him with painful 
 associations, whether of the present or the past But 
 there were points on which the penetration of Maltravers 
 served to justify his prepossessions. 
 
 The conversation, chiefly sustained by Cleveland and 
 Vargrave fell on public questions; and as one was op- 
 posed to the other, Vargrave's exposition of views and 
 motives had in them so mucli of the self-seeking of the 
 professional placeman that they might well have of- 
 fended any man tinged by the lofty mania of political 
 
 thrM^u' T '"''^ ^ ^'^"'ee mixture of feelings 
 
 that Ma travers hstene.l: at one moment, he proudly 
 congratulated himself on having quitted a career where 
 
 his better and juster sentiments aNvoke the long dor- 
 
 13 
 
194 
 
 AI,I('K ; OR, TIIK MYSTKIUKS. 
 
 
 mant comlKitivo faculty, an.I lin almost louf^nd f„r tho 
 turlMih>nt liut suhliui.! aroiia, in wliidi trutlus aro vin- 
 dicated and mankind advanced. 
 
 The intcrvi.'w di.l „.)t aorvo for that renewal of in- 
 timacy whicli Varj,M-ave appeared to seek ; and Maltravers 
 rejoiced when the placeman took his departure. 
 
 Lumloy, who was ahout to pay a morning visit to 
 Lord Doltimoro, had horrowed Mr. Morton's "stanhope 
 as being l,etter adapted than any statelier vehiclo to get 
 rapidly through the cross-roads which l(>d to Admiral 
 Logard'p house; and as ho settled himself in the seat 
 with his servant by his side, ho said laughingly, " I 
 almost fancy myself naughty IVfastor Lumley again in 
 this young-man-kind-of two-wheeled cockle-boat: not 
 dignified, but rapid, ohi " 
 
 And Luiiiley's face, as ho spoko, had in it so much of 
 frank gayety, and his manner was .so simple, that Mal- 
 travers could with difficulty fancy him the same man 
 who, five minutes before, had been uttering sentiments 
 that might have become tho oldest-hearted intriguer 
 whom tho hot-bed of aml)ition ever reared. 
 
 As soon as Lumley was gone, Maltravers loft Cleve- 
 land alone to write letters (Cleveland was an exemplary 
 and voluminous correspondent), and strolled with his 
 dogs into the village. The effect which the presence of 
 Matravers produced among his peasantry was one that 
 seldom failed to refresh and soothe his more bitter and 
 disturbed thoughts. They had gradually (for the poor 
 are quick-sighted) become sensible of his justice, — g, 
 finer quality than many that seem more amiable. They 
 felt that his real object was to make them better and 
 happier; and they had learned to see that the means he 
 adopted generally advanced the end. Besides, if some- 
 times stern, he was never capricious or unreasonable; 
 
ATJCK; OR, Till.; MV.sTKiaE.S. 195 
 
 ,y. incy werc! a littlt! m awd of },ini hiif flm 
 Hw. only s...vo,I to .nako tl...,„ ...oro i...l strio " 
 
 Inn ka„l Jo was one of thn favorers of the sn.all- 
 alloUnont system, -not, in.loo.l, as a panacoa 1,,, 1 
 on.J oxcolU^nt stinu.lant to ox-rtion an.M a!^;.. e^ 
 an<l Ins choson rewards for goo.l con<Inct were in h' 
 con>forts as s.rve.l to awaken anu.r.«st those hi he to 
 ss.ve, . ogg.,, an.l hopeh,ss, a .lesire to better and 
 improve the.r condition. Somehow or other, without 
 clw-oct alms t e good-wife found that the little !^ i , g 
 m the cracke,! tea-pot or the old stocking ha.l groaUv 
 increased since the sanire's return; while'hor hn ^ .1 
 came home fron. his n.oderate cups at the ale-hou mo 
 ober and ,n better ten.per. Having already saved son 
 thmg was a great reason why he should save more T e 
 new school, too, was so much better conducted than 
 the old one: the children actually liked going there 
 and now and then there were little village feasts con- 
 
 ar;:;Lt^^^^°^°"^-^^°--^^^-^^-^-"ioin^ 
 
 And Maltravers looked into his cottages, and looked 
 
 It: h rif'fr'^ ^"^^ ^^ '^^^ ^^--^^ *« ^^- 
 
 of llf he pursued h,s lonely walk, and the glow 
 
 forth the cloud again settled on his brow; and again he 
 fe t that m sohtude the passions feed upon the'hea 
 As he thus walked along the green lane, and the insec 
 life of summer rustled audibly among the shadowv 
 hedges, and along the thick grass that' sprang fpZ 
 either side, he came sud.lenly upon a little group tha^ 
 arrested all his attention. ^ ^ ^' 
 
Hi 
 
 
 196 
 
 A(-IfK; Ok, Till.; MYSTKUIKS. 
 
 It was a woman, cla.1 i„ rn.^'s, l,l.MMli„^,, and seon.inKly 
 .ns,.n.s,l,lo, 8npport.Hl l,y th. ov.r.soor of (l.o parish and 
 a lal)orer. 
 
 " What is tlio inattor? " askod Maltravors 
 "A poor woman has been ki.ock..! down and run over 
 by a gentloman in a gig, your honor," ropliod tho over- 
 «eer. He stopped, half an hour ago, at my hou.so to 
 tell mo that alio was lying on th.- road; and ho has 
 given me two sovereigns for her, your honor. But 
 poor cretur she was too heavy for me to carry her, and 
 I was forced to leave her and call Tom to hel,, mo » 
 
 Ihe gentleman might have stayed to see what were 
 tlie consequences of his own act," muttered Maltravers 
 as he examme.1 the wound in the temple, whence the 
 DJood flowed copiously. 
 
 " ";' '^'^ ^^^ was in a great hurry, your honor," said 
 tlie village official, ovorhearing Maltravers. "I think 
 It wasone of the gran.l folks up at the Parsonage; for I 
 know ,t was Mr. Morton's bay horse. -he isaL un! " 
 Uoes the poor woman live in tho neighborhood? 
 Do you know her? " asked Maltravers, turning from the 
 conteniplation of this new instance of Vargrave's selfish- 
 nets of character. 
 
 "No; the old body seems quite a stranger here, -a 
 tramper, or beggar. I think, sir. But it won't be a 
 settlement if we take her in; and we can carry her to 
 the Chequers, up the village, your honor." 
 
 ^^ What is the nearest house, — your own?" 
 
 " Yes ; but we be so busy now ! " 
 
 "She shall not go to your house, and be neglected. 
 And as for the public-house, it is too noisy; we must 
 move her to the Hall." 
 
 e 1^°"' ^°"°'' " 'J*'"^''*'*^ "*« overseer, opening his 
 
AMCi;; OK, THR ArVSTKIUKS. 
 
 lar 
 
 h'Tdlo; Iny a nmttros.s on it MnU I I /', '* 
 
U '■ 
 
 198 
 
 AUCKi ^"*. THK MYSTKUIKS. 
 
 CHAPTER TTT. 
 
 Also from that fnrko.l hill, tho honstml scat 
 Of studious IVacoan.l iiiiM I'hilnsophv, 
 Indignant murumrs luoto ho lieard to threat. 
 
 Wkst. 
 
 Mr CLEVKLAxn ^vanted to enrich ono of his Icttors 
 with a quotation from Ariosto, which ho but impcrfcctlv 
 rcmeml,erocl. He ha,l «con the book lie wished to 
 
 nn^' l\l" ^u ^^"'" '*"'''^'' '^' '^'^y ^^^''^' «nd he 
 quitLed the library to search for it. 
 
 As he was tumbling over some volumes that lay piled 
 on the writing-table, ho felt a student's curiosity to 
 discover what now constituted his host's favorite reading 
 He was surprised to observe that the greater portion of 
 the works chat, by the doubled leaf and the pencilled 
 reference, seemed most frequently consults, were not 
 of a literary nature. - they were chiefly scientific; and 
 astronomy seemed the chosen science. He then remem- 
 bered that he had heard Maltravers speaking to a builder, 
 employed on the recent repairs, on the subject of an 
 observatory. "This is very strange," thought Cleve- 
 land; he gives up literature, the rewards of . ' • ai- 
 in his reach, and turns to science, at an age h,o la\,"' ' 
 discipline his mind to its austere training " 
 
 Alas! Cleveland did not understand that there are 
 times in life when imaginative minds seek to numb and 
 to blunt imagination. Still less did he feel that, when 
 we^ perversely refuse to apply our active faculties to the 
 . n he interests of the world, they turn morbidly into 
 
AUCK; on, rilK MYST|.:ki|.;8. 199 
 
 channels of rosoarch the least „kin to their real genius 
 ;y he collKs.on of n.in.ls alone doe. each nun.l .it er 
 
 utcome but intcUccfual eccentricities 
 
 Some scatterud papers, in the handwriting of Maltrav 
 ers. fell from one of the volumes. Of tJu-se TfZ 
 -^^t,d^hraicalc.lcnl„tions or short, s^;;::^ 
 gestions, the value of which Mr. Cleveland's stn.lil 
 .^ not emUde him to ascertain ;lH.t in ::;;:^^^^^^ 
 Mid snatclies of mournful ami impassioned verso \ZZ 
 showed that the old vein of poetry still flow,^ thou. 
 
 tL 7fJ- '^^ '^•^^•^''^*- '^''-- verses Cl'eS 
 hought h.mself justified in glancing over; they seemed 
 to portray a state of mind which deeply interested T.l 
 greatly saddened him. They expZs d'" d 
 firm determination to bear up agair.s[ both h mTm^rv 
 and the ear of ill; but mysterious and hinted all sio^ 
 here and there served to denote some recent and v« 
 ox,stent struggle, revealed by the hear ny to t'he 
 genius. In these partial and imperfect self-conununints 
 and confessions, there was the evidence of the "n ng 
 affections, the wasted life, the desolate hearth of he 
 lonely man. Yet so calm was Maltravers himself 
 even to his early friend, that Cleveland knew n t ^ 
 o hmk of the reality of the feelings painted hIc 
 
 fwt"orV;T"° '''-'' ^^" at.inawakene.fby 
 Th« , ? ^\ " '°' ''^''' ^«« the object found^ 
 
 tTi . ^^^^^^f.travers seen? Cleveland's thoughts 
 
 urned o Caroline Merton, to Evelyn; but when he 
 
 had spoken of both, nothing in the countenal e the 
 
 manner, of Maltravers had betrayed emo on And 
 
 self J Cleveiund knew not how pride, years, and suffer- 
 
Hi 
 
 200 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTKRIES. 
 
 i! 
 
 fi: 
 
 ing school the features, ami repress the outward signs of 
 what pass within. While thus engaged, the door of the 
 study opened abruptly, and the servant announced Mr. 
 Merton. 
 
 " A thousand pardons," said the courteous rector. 
 " I fear we disturb you; but Admiral Legard and Lord 
 Doltimore, who called on us this morning, were so 
 anxious to see Burleigh, I thought I rai-ht take the 
 liberty. We have come over quite in a large party, _ 
 taken the place by storm. Mr. Maltravers is out, I 
 hear; but you will let us see the house. My allies are 
 already in the hall, examining the armor." 
 
 Cleveland, ever sociable and urbane, answered suit- 
 ably, and went with Mr. Merton into the hall, where 
 Caroline, her little sisters, Evelyn, Lord Doltimore, 
 Admiral Legard and his nephew, were assembled. 
 
 " Very proud to be my host's representative and your 
 guide," said Cleveland. " Your visit. Lord Doltimore, 
 is indeed an agreeable surprise. Lord Vargrave left us 
 an hour or so since, to call on you at Admiral Legard's; 
 we buy our pleasure with his disappointment." 
 
 "It is very unfortupoto," said the admiral, a bluff, 
 harsh-looking old gentleman; "but we were not aware 
 till we saw Mr. Merton, of the honor Lord Vargrave has 
 done us. I can't think how we missed him on the 
 road. " 
 
 " My dear uncle," said Colonel Legard, in a neculiarly 
 sweet and agreeable tone of voice, « you forget:' we came 
 three miles round by the high-road; and Mr. Merton 
 says that Lord Vargrave took the short cut by Langley 
 End. My uncle, Mr. Cleveland, never feels in safety 
 upon land unless the road is as wide as the British 
 Channel, and the horses go before the wind at the rapid 
 pace of two knots and a half an hour! " 
 
 II 
 
ALICE; OR, TUK MYSTERIKS. 
 
 201 
 
 "I just Wish I had you at sea, Mr. Jackanapes," said 
 the admiral, looking grimly at his handsome nephew, 
 while he shook his can{i at him. 
 
 The nephew smiled, and fulling back, conversed with 
 -CiVelyn. 
 
 The party were now shown over the house; and Lord 
 Doltimore was loud in its praises. It was like a chateau 
 he had once hired in Normandy, — it had a French 
 character; those old chairs were in excellent taste _ 
 quite the style of Francis I. 
 
 " I know no man I respect more than Mr. Maltravers " 
 quoth the admiral. "Since he has been amongst i!is 
 this time, he has been a pattern to us country gentle- 
 men. He would make an excellent colleague for Sir 
 John. We really must get him to stand against that 
 young puppy, who is member of the House of Com- 
 mons only because his father is a peer, and never votes 
 more than twice a session. " 
 Mr. Merton looked grave. 
 
 " I wish to Heaven you could persuade him to stay 
 amongst you," said Cleveland. "He has half taken 
 into his head to part with Burleigh ! " 
 
 "Part with Burleigh!" exclaimed Evelyn, turning 
 abruptly from the handsome colonel, in whose conversa- 
 tion she had hitherto seemed absorbed. 
 
 " My vefy ejaculation when I heard him say so my 
 dear young lady. " ' 
 
 "r wish he would," said Lord Doltimore, hastily and 
 glancing towards Caroline. "I should much like to 
 buy It. What do you think would be the purchase- 
 money 1" 
 
 "Don't talk so cold-bloodedly," said the admiral 
 letting the point of his cane fall with great emphasis on 
 the floor. " I can't bear to see old families deserting 
 

 202 
 
 ALICE; OH, TIIK MYSTEIUKS. 
 
 their old places, — quito wickod. Yoii hny Burleigh! 
 Have not you got a country-seat of your own, my lord? 
 Go and live there, and take Mr. Maltravors for your 
 model; you could not have a bettor." 
 
 Lord Doltiniore sneered, colored, settled his neck- 
 cloth, and turning round to Colonel Legard, whispered, 
 " Legard, your good undo is a bore. " 
 
 Legard looked a little offended, and made no reply. 
 " But," said Caroline, coming to the relief of her 
 admirer, "if Mr. Maltravors will sell the place, surely 
 he could not have a better successor. " 
 
 " He sha'n't sell the place, ma'am, and that 's poz! " 
 cried the admiral. " The whole county shall sign a 
 round-robin to tell him it's a shame; and if anyone 
 dares to buy it, we '11 send him to Coventry." 
 
 Miss Morton laughed, but looked round the old wains- 
 cot walls with unusual interest: she thought it would 
 be a fine thing to be Lady of Burleigh. 
 
 "And what is that picture so carefu'Jy covered up? " 
 said the admiral, as they now stood in the library. 
 
 " The late Mrs. Maltravors, Ernest's mother," replied 
 Cleveland, slowly. « He dislikes it to be shown, — to 
 strangers; the other is a Digby." 
 
 Evelyn looked towards the veiled portrait, and 
 thought of her first interview with Maltravors; but the 
 soft voice of Colonel Legard murmured in her ear, and 
 her reverie was broken. 
 
 Cleveland eyed the colonel, and muttered to himself, 
 " Vargrave should keep a sharp look-out. " 
 
 They had now finished their roimd of the show apart- 
 ments, — which, indeed, had little but their antiquity 
 and old portraits to recommend them, — and were in 
 a lobby at the back of the house, communicating with 
 a courtyard, two sides of which were occupied with the 
 
ALICE; on, THE MYSTKHIES. 
 
 203 
 
 Btables. The sight of the stables reminded Caroline 
 of the Arab horses; and at the word "horses" Lord 
 Doltimore seized Legard's arm and carried him off to 
 inspect the animals. Caroline, her father, and the 
 admiral followed. Mr. Clevelaad happened not to 
 have on his walking-shoes, and the flagstones in the 
 courtyard looked damp; and Mr. Cleveland, like most 
 old bachelors, was prudently afraid of cold, so he ex- 
 cused himself and stayed behind. He was talking to 
 Evelyn about the Dig})y8, and full of anecdotes about 
 Sir Kenelm, at the moment the rest departed so abruptly ; 
 and Evelyn was interested, so she insisted on keeping 
 him company. The' old gentleman was flattered; he 
 thought it excellent breeding in Miss Cameron. The 
 children ran out to renew acquaintance with the pea- 
 cock, who, perched on an old stirrup-stone, was sunning 
 his gay plumage in the noonday. 
 
 "It is astonishing," said Cleveland, "how certain 
 family features are transmitted from generation to gen- 
 eration ! Maltravers has still the forehead and eyebrows 
 of the Digbys, — that peculiar, brooding, thoughtful fore- 
 head which you observed in the picture of Sir Kenelm. 
 Once, too, he had much the same dreaming character of 
 mind; but he has lost that, in some measure at least. 
 He has fine qualities, Miss Cameron; I have known 
 him since he was born. I trust his career is not yet 
 closed ; could he but form ties that would bind him to 
 England, T should indidge higher expectations than I 
 did even Avhen the wild boy turned half the heads in 
 Gottingen. 
 
 " But we were talking of family portraits : there is 
 one in the entrance hall which perhaps you have not 
 observed; it is half obliterated by damp and time, yet 
 it is of a remarkable personage, connected with Mai- 
 
204 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 travers by ancestral intermarriages, — Lord Falkland, 
 tlie Falkland of Clarendon: a man weak in character, 
 but made most interesting by history; utterly unfitted 
 for the severe ordeal of those stormy times ; sighing for 
 peace when his whole soul should have been in war; 
 and repentant alike whether with the Parliament or tlie 
 king, but still a personage of elegant and endearing 
 associations; a student-soldier, with a high heart and a 
 gallant spirit. Come and look at his features, — homely 
 and worn, but with a characteristic air of refinement and 
 melancholy thought." 
 
 Thus running on, the agreeable old gentleman drew 
 Evelyn into the outer hall. Upon arriving there, 
 through a small passage Avhich opened upon the hall, 
 they were surprised to find the old housekeeper and 
 another female servant standing by a rude kind of couch , 
 on which lay tlie form of the poor woman described in 
 the last chapter. j\Ialtravers and two other men were 
 also there; and Maltravers himself was giving orders 
 to his servants, while he leaned over the sufferer, who 
 was now conscious both of pain and the service rendered 
 to her. As Evelyn stopped abruptly, and in surprise, 
 opposite and almost at the foot of the homely litter, the 
 woman raised herself up on one arm, and gazed at her 
 with a wild stare; then, muttering some incoherent 
 words, which appeared tu betoken delirium, she sank 
 back, and was again insensible. 
 
 fife v 
 
ALICE; OR, THE :.IY.^,rEKIES. 
 
 20i 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Hence oft to win some stub))orn maid, 
 
 Still does the wanton god assnme 
 The martial air, tlie gay cockade, 
 
 The sword, the shoulder-knot, and plume. 
 
 Marriott. 
 
 The hall was cleared; the suflforer had been removed; 
 and Maltravers was- left alone with Cleveland and 
 Evelyn. 
 
 He simply and sliortly narrated the adventure of the 
 morning; but he did not mention that Vargrave had 
 been the cause of tlie injury his new guest had sus- 
 tained. Xow this event had served to make a mutual 
 and kindred impression on Evelyn and Maltravers. 
 The humanity of the latter, natural and commonplace 
 as it was, was an endearing recollection to Evelyn, 
 precisely as it showed that his cold theory of disdain 
 towards the mass did not affect his actual conduct 
 towards individuals. On the other hand, INIaltravers 
 had perhaps been yet more impressed with the prompt 
 and ingenuous sympathy which Evelyn had testified 
 towards the suli'erer; it had so evidently been her first 
 gracious and womanly impulse to hasten to the side of 
 this humble stranger. In that impulse, Maltravers him- 
 self had been almost forgotten ; and as the poor woman 
 lay pale and lifeless, and the young Evelyn bent over 
 her in beautiful compassion, Maltravers thought she liad 
 never seemed so lovely, so irresistible, — in fact, pity in 
 woman h a great beautifier. 
 

 11 
 
 206 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 As Maltravcrs finished his short tale, Evelyn's eyes 
 were fixed upon him with such frank, and yet such 
 soft approval, that the look went straight to his heart. 
 He quickly turned away, and abruptly changed the 
 conversation. 
 
 " But how long have you been hero, Miss Cameron, 
 — and your companions?" 
 
 " We are again intruders; but this time it is not my 
 fault, " 
 
 " No," said Cleveland, " for a wonder ; it was male 
 and not lady-like curiosity that trespassed on Bluebeard's 
 chamber. But, however, to soften your resentment, 
 know that Miss Cameron has brought you a purchaser 
 for Burleigh. Now, then, we can test the sincerity of 
 your wish to part with it. I assure you, meanwhile, 
 that Miss Cameron was as much shocked at the idea as 
 I was. Were you not ? " 
 
 " But you surely have no intention of selling Bur- 
 leigh?" said Evelyn, anxiously. 
 
 " I fear I do not know my own mind." 
 "Well," said Cleveland, "here comes your tempter. 
 Lord Doltimore, let me introduce Mr. Maltravers." 
 Lord Doltimore bowed. 
 
 "Been admiring your horses, Mr. Maltravers. I 
 never saw anything so perfect as the black one; may 1 
 ask where you bought him ? " 
 
 " It was a present to me," answered Maltravers 
 "Aprp«>ent?" 
 
 "Yes, from one who would not have sold that horse 
 for a king's ransom, —an old Arab chief, with whom I 
 formed a kind of friendship in the desert. A wound 
 disabled him from riding, and he bestowed the horse on 
 me with as much solemn tenderness for the gift as if he 
 had given me his daughter in marriage." 
 
 li! I 
 
ALICE; OR, THK MYSTERIES. 
 
 207 
 
 "I think of travelling into the East," said Lord 
 Dotxmore, with much gravity. "I suppose nothiuR 
 will induce you to sell the hlack horse?" 
 
 " Lord Doltimore! " said Maltravers, in a tone of lofty 
 surprise. '' 
 
 "I do not care for the price," continued the younc 
 nobleman, a little disconcerted. 
 
 " No; I never sell any horse that has once learned to 
 know me. I would as soon think of selling a friend 
 m the desert, one's horse is one's friend. I am almost 
 an Arab mystdf in these matters." 
 
 1 •"?!!*' ^"^^'"'''^ °^ '^^^ ^"'^ ^'*'"*^^ reminds me of Bur- 
 leigh, said Cleveland, maliciously. « Lord Doltimore 
 18 a universal buyer. He covets all your goods : he will 
 take the house if he can't have the stables." 
 _ "I only mean," said Lord Doltimore, rather peev- 
 ishly, that if you wisli to part with Burleigh, I should 
 like to have the option of purchase." 
 
 " I will remember it, if I determine to sell the place " 
 answered Maltravers, smiling gravely; "at present I am 
 undecided. " 
 
 He turned away towards Evelyn as he spoke, and 
 almost started to observe that she was joined by a 
 stranger, whose approach he had not before noticed- 
 and that stranger a man of such remarkable personal 
 advantages that, had Maltravers been in Vargrave's 
 position, he might reasonably have experienced a pang 
 of jealous apprehension. Slightly above the common 
 height; slender, yet strongly formed; set off by every 
 advantage of dress, of air, of the nameless tone and per- 
 v.-iding refinement that sometimes, though not always 
 springs from early and hal)itual intercourse with the 
 most polished female society, -Colonel Legard, at the 
 age of eight and twenty, had acquired a reputation 
 
208 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 for beauty almost as popular and as woll known as 
 
 tZ ,t ''"' """""^ effenunate in his coun- 
 
 tenance, the symmetrical features of which were made 
 masculine and expressive by the rich olive of the com- 
 plexion, and the close jetty curls of the Antinous-like 
 
 They seemed, as they there stood _ Evelyn and 
 Legard- so well suited to each other in personal a^ 
 
 an?S/T.if'^"'^'^* '''''' ^« happily^ontrastcd. 
 l^iJ^T '/ "■ '"^^^^^^^'^^^^ ''^garding her with such 
 respectful admiration, and whispering compliment to her 
 in so subdued a tone, that the dullest observer might 
 have ventured a prophecy by no means agreeable to the 
 hopes of Lumley, Lord Vargrave. 
 
 But a feeling or fear of this nature was not that which 
 occurred to Maltravers, or dictated his startled exclama- 
 tion 01 surprise. 
 
 ,.w Tu ^"'^'^ ? '' ^' ^'^'^ *^^ exclamation, and 
 aw Maltravers, whose back had hitherto been t;rned 
 towards him He, too, was evidently surprised'nd 
 seemingly confused; the color mounted to his cLek 
 and then left it pale. ' 
 
 « Colonel Legard," said Cleveland, " a thousand apolo- 
 gies for my neglect: I really did not observe you enter 
 -you came round by the front door, I suppose. Let 
 me make you acquainted with Mr. Maltravers " 
 
 Legard bowed low. 
 
 "We have met before," said he, in embarrassed 
 accents: "at Venice, I think?" emoarrassed 
 
 Maltravers inclined his head rather stiffly at first, but 
 " Oh, Mr. Ernest, here you are! " cried Sophy, bound- 
 
 
 M 
 
ALICE; OK, THE MYSTERIES. 209 
 
 ing into the l.all. followe.l by Mr Merton fW 1 1 
 
 admiral, Carolino, an.l Cecilia ' "'' °^'* 
 
 The interruption seemed welco„,e and opportune 
 
 pieasme at being made known to Mr. Maltravers 
 xne conversation "rew ceneril • r„f„„„u . " 
 
 P-o*.d and decided. ^^.K^J^^Z:''' 
 It so happened that, a, the guests departed, E-o'lvn 
 
 -Ma';:;, rt ": c:''zr'-"i r", '"™"" ''^ 
 
 S5thr:st=--^i-S 
 
 timidity and kindness, and said,— ^ 
 
 ta.k over Ta.o and „»„., , 7o' ZLt no^'^iC:: di - 
 putes, no quarrels) What have we done! T .r . 
 we had n>ade it np, and yet you Z s m „n o.S 
 Give me a good scold, and be friends I " °'8""ng- 
 
 devoteHh.!";''"" '"';° '"' *""'' ■»™ ""'''<"■». -ore 
 aM vi M, '"°- ^™°8. rich, fascinating as you 
 
 TeUr thaTthr™ T '"''""'°" ™ "^ l-'" 
 ueeper than that you have graven here'" 
 
 ia.t'p?d-:a-:::;r,'iSt:rtdt;^^^^ 
 
 Evelyn colored deeply, and her whole manner changed 
 gayety, Well, then, you will not desert us, _ we shall 
 
 :rp::ir ™' '"'•"'='' ^°™'''«*p= to Joint; 
 
 14 
 
(I 
 
 210 
 
 ALICE; OR THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 m 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 See how the skilful lover spreads his toils. _ Stillinopleet. 
 
 The party had not long returned to the Rectory, and 
 the admiral s carriage was ordered, when Lor.l Var- 
 grave made his appearance. He descanted with cav 
 good-humor on his long drive, the had roads, and his 
 disappointment at the contretemps that awaited him- 
 then drawing aside Colonel Legard, who seemed un- 
 usually silent and abstracted, he said to him — 
 
 "My dear colonel, my visit this morning was rather 
 to you than to Doltimore. I confess that 1 .hould like 
 to see your abilities enlisted on the side of the govern- 
 ment; and knowing that the post of Storekeeper to the 
 Ordftance will be vacant in a day or two by the pro- 
 motion of Mr. , I wrote to secure the refusal: 
 
 to-day s post brings me the answer. I offer the place 
 to you; and I trust, before long, to procure you also a 
 seat in Parliament. But you must start for London 
 immediately. " 
 
 A week ago, and Legard's utmost ambition would 
 have been amply gratified by this post; he now 
 hesitated. 
 
 « My dear lord," said he, « I cannot say how grateful 
 1 feel for your kindness; but — but — " 
 
 "Enough: no thanks, my dear Legard. Can you go 
 to town to-morrow ? " •' e 
 
 "Indeed "said Legard, "I fear not; I must consult 
 my uncle." 
 
 |i|l 
 
AUCE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 211 
 
 excellent oZl,^Z I "f •■"''''?' '"«»'■''■ " " » 
 «.),.t „ "r°""'8. n sent in l'«ili„„i„|,t tool Wl.v 
 "hat c.,n bo your reason for hesitation!" ^' 
 
 ^™,.t tj-Lor ;:-::o :t;:„:';:r'zr ,■;':'•,;""' 
 
 not well what to reply and ho h 1 ^"°''' 
 
 every scruple, every o, El • 1„ S;/ trT""''' 
 tages of the no^if m-i • . ' ' P^'^^ea all the advan- 
 
 .bwoi„t:/r; :t:^l^?:;z^re;:: r ""° H 
 w.™ We. a„a\o.t..iit:e^::j;„°r:: 
 
212 
 
 ALICE; OK, THE MYSTEltlES. 
 
 \m 
 
 m 
 
 m ] 
 
 CHArTER VI. 
 
 I am forfeited to eternal disgrace \i you do not commiserate. 
 Go to, then, raise, recover. 
 
 Ben Jonson : Poetaster, 
 
 Thk next morning Admiral Legard and his nephew 
 were conversing in the little cabin consecrated by the 
 name of the admiral's "own room." 
 
 " Yes," said tlie veteran, " it would be moonshine and 
 madness not to accept Vargrave's offer, though one can 
 see through such a millstone as that with half an eye. 
 His lordship is jealous of such a fine handsome young 
 fellow as you are, -and very justly. But as long as 
 he IS under the same roof with iMiss Cameron, you will 
 have no opportunity to pay your court; when he goes, 
 you can always manage to be in her neighborhood- and 
 then, you know,— puppy that you are, -her business 
 will be very soon settled." And the admiral eyed the 
 handsome colonel with grim fondness. 
 Legard sighed. 
 
 " Have you any commands at ? " said he. " I am 
 
 just going to canter over there before DoUimore is up!" 
 " Sad, lazy dog, your friend." 
 " I shall be back by twelve. " 
 
 " What are you going to for? " 
 
 "Brookes, the farrier, has a little spaniel, — Kincr 
 Charles's breed. Miss Cameron is fond of dogs. I cun 
 send it to her, with my compliments; it will°be a sort 
 of leave-taking. " 
 
ALFCK; OK, THE MVSTKKrES. 213 
 
 (.roou-lty, sir." 
 
 never' t!n^^'''^'' ^^"'^'"* '"^ ""'^ >'<'" ^ q^^^t'on: you 
 
 never o d me you know Mr. Maltravers. Whv don' 
 
 you cultivate his acquaintance?" ' ^ 
 
 "We met at Venice accidcntallv. I di.l not v.. 
 
 1 oi^ht to cultivate hi» ocquaintanc." * "' 
 
 tine character! " 
 
 George Logard was an orphan. His fatl.Pr ti 
 
 sr '^;!:^ r:\TY''- - «ptitS n-: ; 
 
 n! iry t ? *?^'''^^^ ^^^g'^ unentailed estate. He 
 marr ed a duke's daughter without a sixpence. Estafe 
 are troublesome; Mr. Legard's was sold. On the 
 purchase-money the happy pair lived for some years in 
 grea comfort, when Mr. Legard died of a brain ver^ 
 and us disconsolate widow found herself alone in fb. 
 world with a beautiful little curly-head d W and 
 
 wr!one '"::;. ^"^'^'^"fr-d' ^" the rest of the fortune 
 was gone, -- a discovery not made till Mr. Legard's death 
 Lady Louisa did not long survive the loss'o h r ht 
 band and her station in society; her income, of eoui^ 
 
 he house of his grandfather, the duke, till he was of 
 age to hold the office of king's page; thence, as ilu 
 
 To 7' "": P"'"'^*^' '' ^ ^-"---«n in the Guard 
 ro he munificent emoluments of his pay the ducai 
 
 yZXlTl'r'''' ^^ ^"^^^'^-"^^ "^ '- '-d-d 
 
 year, upon which income Cornet Legard contrived to 
 
'I 
 
 214 
 
 ALICE ; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 get very handsomely in debt. The extraordinary beauty 
 of his person, his connections, and his manners, obtained 
 him all the celebrity tliat fasliion can bestow; but pov- 
 erty IS a bad thing. Luckily, at this time his uncle, 
 the admiral, returned from sea, to settle for the rest of 
 his life in England. 
 
 Hitherto the admiral had taken no notice of George 
 He himself had married a merchant's daughter, with a 
 fair portion, and had been blessed with two children 
 who monopolized all his affection. But there seemed 
 some mortality in the Legard family; in one year after 
 
 returning to England and settling in B shire, the 
 
 admiral found himself wifeless and childless. He then 
 turned to his orphan nephew, and soon became fonder 
 of him than he had ever been of his own children. 
 Ihe admiral, though in easy circumstances, was not 
 wealthy; nevertheless, he advanced the money requisite 
 for George s rise in the army, and doubled the allow- 
 ance bestowed by the duke. His grace heard of this 
 generosity, and discovered that he himself had a very 
 arge family growing up; that the marquis was going 
 to be married, and required an increase of income; that 
 he had already behaved most handsomely to his nephew 
 and the result of this discovery was that the duke with- 
 drew the two hundred a year. Legard, however, who 
 ooked on his uncle as an exhaustless mine, went on 
 breaking hearts and making debts, till one morning 
 he woke in the Bench. The admiral was hastily sum- 
 moned to London. He arrived, paid off the duns — 
 a kindness which seriously embarrassed him, — swore 
 scolded, and cried, and finally insisted that Legard 
 
 should give up that d d coxcomb regiment, in which 
 
 he was now captain, retire on half-pay, and learn econ- 
 omy and a change of habits on the Continent 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 215 
 
 .J}' ff!^^' ' '""Sh but good-natured man on the 
 whole had two or three little peculiarities. In the firs 
 
 with those fine grand connections, who plunged him nto 
 
 not a man to allow his nephew to ruin him. He had 
 an extraordinary old-fashioned horror of gambling a 
 polite habit of George's- and h. ^ i ^""""""g; — » 
 that h,-« «o..u ^^""[S^ s, find he declared posit velv 
 that his nephew must, while a bachelor, learn to liv« 
 upon seven hundred a year. Thirdly Z 1,2 
 could be a very stern, stubborn, passion te old b "te 
 and when he coolly told George. "Harkye. you you g 
 
 vou off T' "^u-7r'' ^ "^'^^ y«"' -I «hall just cut 
 you oft with a shilling," George was fully aware tha 
 
 otih'TA '""" ««"^«thing to be out of debt, and one 
 of the handsomest men of his age; and George Lejrd 
 whose rank in the Guards made him a colonel fn tbeffne' 
 
 Iffairs ' *''"''^^ ""'^"^^^ -"^ ^he state oj 
 
 Despite the foibles of his youth. George Legard had 
 
 many h.gh and generous qualities. Society haTdone 
 
 bilit : f "'t ' "" ''''' ^^"^^^^ ^^«P-i^-«. - " 
 f y succeeded. Still, unhappily, dissipation had 
 
216 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 If: 
 
 grown a habit with him; and all his talents were of a 
 nature that brought a ready return. At his age, it was 
 but natural that the praise of salons should retain all 
 its sweetness. 
 
 In addition to tliose qualities which please the softer 
 sex, Legard was a good whist-player, supo^b at billiards 
 famous as a shot, unrivalled as a horseman, -in fact' 
 
 rein''"'Ti,'''^ "''"' v^'^ ^'^ everything so devilish 
 well! These accomplishments did not stand him in 
 much stead in Italy; and though with reluctance and 
 remorse, he took again to gambling, _ he really had 
 nothing else to do. ^ 
 
 In Venice there was, one year, established a society 
 somewhat on the principle of the Salon at Paris. Some 
 rich Venetians belonged to it; but it was chiefly for the 
 convenience of foreigners, -French, English, and Aus- 
 trians. Here there was select gaming in one room, while 
 another apartment served the purposes of a club. Many 
 who never played belonged to this society ; but still they 
 were not the habitues. , 
 
 Legard played: he won at first, then he lost, then 
 he won again ; it was a pleasant excitement. One night 
 after winning largely at roulette, he sat down to play 
 «ca.^e with a Frenchman of high rank. Legard played 
 well at this, as at all scientific games: he thought he 
 should make a fortune out of the Frenchman. The 
 game exci^,d much interest; the crowd gathered round 
 the table; bets ran high; the vanity of Legard, as well 
 as his interest, was i» plicated in the conflict. It was 
 soon evident that the Frenchman played as well as the 
 Englishman. Tlie stakes, at first tolerably high, were 
 doubled. Leganl bet freely; cards went against him: 
 he lost much, lost all that he had, lost more than he had 
 -lost several hundreds, which he promised to pay the' 
 
ALICE; OK, THE MYSTEKIES. 217 
 
 next morning. The table was broken up; the spec- 
 tators separated. Amongst the latter h . ZlnZl 
 Lnghshman, introduced into the club for the fi st tim o 
 that night He had neither played nor- b t butt 
 observed the game with a quiet Ld watcl^ 1 inti 
 this Enghshman lodged at the same hotel as TZt 
 
 am of Enl^^^r "^^ '" ' '''-' *^^ P---^ -gh f 
 
 :"::L^it:-:sr^t3"^^^^^™--" 
 
 men" the' En"f f' ''T ''^' ^"^^'^^^^^ '^ ^- '^P-t- 
 
 door 'o Ihllf '•'"'^ '^ ^^'^P S^°^" "^ '^ room the 
 
 repeated H. "'h'^"' . "^^ P^"^^^' "^ --"' -- 
 repeated. He gently pushed open the door, and saw 
 
 wUl ''^'f"^}"'' ^^«rking and convulsed countenan 
 
 o7:-tiV;:rtrc!::"-"^^^--^--^-^^^ 
 
 The Englishman recognized the loser at the club 
 
 despai lTate7"f ^^ "^ ^'^^ ^"^ madnes: «: ht 
 despair dictated. Legard twice took up one of the pis- 
 tols, and twice laid it down irresolute; the third tfme ' 
 he rose with a start, raised the weapon to his head nd 
 the i.xt moment it was wrenched from his gra^^'. 
 
 fMt down, sir! " said the stranger, in a loud and 
 commanding voice. ^ 
 
 Legard. astonished and abashed, sank once more into 
 
 his ToXir ' ^""^"^^ '''' '-'' — ^-^y - 
 
 "You have lost your money," said the Englishman 
 after calmly replacing the pistols in their ca! wWch 
 he locked, putting tlie key into his pocket; "and tha 
 IS misfortune enough for on. night. ' If yJu had wo. 
 
218 
 
 ALICE; OR, THR MYSTEIURS. 
 
 t 'i ' 
 
 and ruined your opponent, you would be excessively 
 happy, and go to bod thinking Good Luck (which is 
 the representative of Providence) watclied over you 
 For my part, I tliink you ought to be very thankful 
 that you are not the winner." 
 
 "Sir," said Legard, recovering from his surprise, and 
 beginning to feel resentment, « I do not understand this 
 intrus^ion m my apartments. You have saved me, it is 
 true, from death, — but life is a worse curse." 
 
 " Young man, — no! moments in life are agony, but 
 life Itself is a blessing. Life is a mystery that defies all 
 calculation. You can never say, ' To-day is wretched, 
 therefore to-morrow must be the same!' And for the 
 loss of a little gold, you, in the full vigor of youth, 
 with all the future before you, will .lare to rush into 
 the chances of eternity, -you, who have never, per- 
 haps, thought what eternity is! Yet," added the 
 stranger, in a soft and melancholy voice, "you are 
 young and beautiful, -perhaps the pride and hope of 
 others! Have you no tie, no affection, no kindred? 
 Are you lord of yourself ? " 
 
 Legard was moved by the tone of the stranger, as well 
 as by the words. 
 
 ^ "It is not the loss of money," said he, gloomily, " it 
 IS the loss of honor. To-morrow I must go forth a 
 shunned and despised man, - 1, a gentleman and a sol- 
 aier ! They may insult me, — and I have no reply t " 
 
 The Faglishman seemed to muse; for his brow low- 
 ered, and he made no answer. Legard threw himself 
 back overcome with his own excitement, and wept like 
 a child. The stranger, who imagined himself above 
 the indulgence of emotion (vain man!), woke from his 
 reverie at this burst of passion. He gazed at first (I 
 grieve to write) with a curl of the haughty lip that had 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MVSTEHIES. 219 
 
 in it contempt; but it passed q.iickly awav nnd i^. 
 hard man remembered that ho iL i i ^' ^ *^® 
 
 Wha IS your debt? "he asked gently. 
 What matters ,t? More than I can pay. » 
 
 charge for nfl' *'"'*; '" ^' ''''^'^'- '^"'' ^^^^ the fir.t in 
 charge/or others; I „.ay have the last. What is tli: 
 
 it hereafter, I'l know I cculd /""/> ' ^"'^' ^^'"^>' 
 otherwise. " ^^ ^ '^'^'"^^ "^^ """k of it 
 
 " Vory well, so be it: I will lend von ih. 
 one condition Solemnly pro.ilrl^l vouS ^ 
 « soldier and a genlleman, that you will not Lf 
 yeaB to come, -even if y„„ „Jy rZ S 
 others, - touch card or dice-bof P^ •' t" ™'" 
 
 WU. .u,„ all «a,uiu« for'^ain'^^nd:':™::: vr^ufr 
 -whatever appellation. I will take your wLd fa ^y 
 
 »o;«:i;':td";hr"4;;;rn,ar.4rt'tr™"=" °' «■» 
 iu?r..°petrrauLt;i::;;-v'-tr 
 
 haps I have been so now Thi. «,„« . • , . 
 
 vour lifp n i-f /'"s sum, which is to save 
 
 g.ver or receiver. What is given to err!ri; ^ps 
 
220 
 
 ALICE, OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 be a wrong to virtue. When you would ask others to 
 support a career of blind and selfish extravagance, pause 
 and think over the breadless lips this v>^asted gold would 
 have fed; the joyless hearts it would have comforted! 
 You talk of repaying me: if the occasion offer, do so; 
 if not, — if we never meet again, and you have it in 
 your power, —pay it for me to the poor! And now 
 farewell ! " 
 
 "Stay; give me the name of my preserver! Mine 
 is — " 
 
 " Hush ! what matter names ? This is a sacrifice we 
 have both made to honor. You will -ooner recover 
 your self-esteem (and without self-esteem there is neither 
 faith nor honor) when you think that your family, your 
 connections, are spared all association with your own 
 error, — that I may hear them spoken of, that I may 
 mix with them, without fancying that they owe me 
 gratitude." 
 
 "Your own name, then?" said Legard, deeply pene- 
 trated with the delicate generosity of his benefactor. 
 
 "Tush!" muttered the stranger, impatiently, as he 
 closed the door. 
 
 The next morning, when he awoke, Legard saw upon 
 the table a small packet; it contained a sum that ex- 
 ceeded the debt named. On the envelope was written, 
 "Eemember the bond." 
 
 The stranger had already quitted Venice. He had 
 not travelled through the Italian cities under his own 
 name, for he had just returned from the solitudes of the 
 East, and not yet hardened to the publicity of the gossip 
 which in towns haunted by his countrymen attended a 
 well-known name: that given to Legard by the inn- 
 keeper, mutilated by Italian pronunciation, the young 
 man had never heard before, and soon forgot. He paid 
 
ALICE; OH, THK MYSTEHIES. 
 
 221 
 
 li s Jebts. and he scrupulously kept his word. The 
 adven ure of that night went far, indeed, to reform nd 
 ennoble the mind and habits of George Legard ^ifme 
 
 oi Barleigh he recognized the stranger in Maltravers 
 
222 
 
 ALICE; UK, Till.: MYSTICKIES. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 i' ' '"f 
 
 Why value, theu, that strengtli of mind they boast, 
 As ofteu van! jg, ami as often lost ? 
 
 Hawkin8 Bhowne {translated bij Soame Jenyns). 
 
 Maltravers was lying at length, with his dogs around 
 him, under a beech-tree that threw its arms over one of 
 the calm, still pieces of water that relieved the groves 
 of Burleigh, when Colonel Legard spied him from the 
 bridle-road, which led through the park to the house. 
 The colonel dismounted, threw the rein over his arm; 
 and at the sound of the hoofs Maltravers turned, saw the 
 visitor, and rose; he held out his hand to Legard, and 
 immediately began talking of indifferent matters. 
 
 Legard was embarrassed, but his nature was not one 
 to profit by the silence of a benefactor. " Mr. Maltra- 
 vers," said he, with graceful emotion, "though you 
 have not yet allowed me an opportunity to allude to 
 it, do not think I am ungrateful for the service you 
 rendered me." 
 
 Maltravers looked grave, but made no reply. Legard 
 resumed, with a heightened color, — 
 
 " I cannot say how I regret that it is not yet in my 
 power to discharge my debt; but — ■" 
 
 " When it is, you will do so. Pray think no more of 
 it. Are you going to the Rectory 1 " 
 
 "No, not this morning; in fact, I leave B shire 
 
 to-morrow. Pleasant family, the Mertons." 
 
 " And Miss Cameron ? " 
 
ALICl';; OK, TIIK MVSTKIUES. 
 
 223 
 
 oldor -she wlm couM h,ive so many admirers? " 
 JNot, surely, wlnle betrothed to another? " 
 1 us was a relhicment wliich Logard, though an hon- 
 orable n,an as n,on go, did not quite" undcrstld '< 01 » 
 
 father-in-law, I think. Do you think she is bo m,! by 
 
 such an engagement?" ^ 
 
 Maltravers made no reply, but amused himself bv 
 
 th.w,,jg^..k into the water, and sending one Jl!;! 
 
 Legard looked on; and his affectionate disposition 
 y arned to make advances which something di tan n 
 tlie manner of Maltravers chilled and repelled 
 
 .v-.Y ,!" °"'* '"^^^ ^'^""' Maltravers followed him 
 vith h,s eyes. « And this is the man whom Jle vol nd 
 
 nf ^hJ r. '• Jl^'^'P^'^^'^'^y «f the conscientious feel- 
 2 t f T-^ . n ""^ *' ''" engagement. Vargrave has 
 wit, talent, intellect; and this man has nothing but the 
 «kin o the panther. Was I wrong to save him ? No 
 Every human life. I suppose, has its uses. But Evelyn 
 
 - T could despise her, if her heart was the fool of [h^ 
 
 eye; 
 
 These comments were most unjust to Legard; but 
 
 ot talent often commits against the man of external 
 
 - vantages, and which the latter still more of'en re 
 t hates on the man of talent. As Maltraverrtl us 
 soliloquized l.e was accosted by Mr. Cleveland. 
 
 Come, Ernest, you must not cut these unfortunate 
 Mertons any longer. If you continue to do so. do you 
 know what Mrs. Hare and the world will say ? » 
 
3 *';. 
 
 224 
 
 ALICK; m, TlIK MYai'KltlKS. 
 
 "Xo; what?" 
 
 " That you have been refused by Miss Morton." 
 
 "That would be a calumny!" said Er.est, smiling. 
 
 " Or that you are hopelessly in love with Miss 
 Cameron. " 
 
 Maltravers started; his proud heart swelled; he 
 pulled his hat over his brows, and said, after a s.'iort 
 pause, — 
 
 " Well, Mrs. Hare and the world must not have it all 
 their own Avay; and so whenever you go to the Rectory, 
 take me with you." 
 
 ! * 
 f 
 
 
AUCJi; Oil, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 225 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The more he strove 
 To advance his suit, the farther from her love. 
 
 Drvden : Theodore and Honoria. 
 
 The line of conduct which Vargrave now adopted with 
 regard to Evelyn was craftily conceived and carefully 
 pursued. He did not hazard a single syllable which 
 might dra .V on him a rejection of his claims; but at the 
 same time, no lover could be more constant, more de- 
 voted m attentions. In the presence of others there 
 was an a,r of familiar intimacy, that seemed to arrogate 
 a right which to her he scrupulously shunned to assert. 
 Nothing could be more respectful, nay, more timid, than 
 his language, or more calmly confident than his manner 
 Not having much vanity, nor any very acute self-conceit! 
 he did not delude himself into the idea of winning 
 Evelyns aflfections; he rather sought to entangle her 
 judgment, to weave around her web upon web. -not 
 the less dangerous for being invisil;le. He took the com- 
 pact as a matter of course, -as something not to be 
 broken by any possible chance. Her hand was to be his 
 as a right; it was her heart that he so anxiously sought 
 to gain. Rut this distinction was so delicately drawn 
 and insisted upon so little in any tangible form, thai 
 whatever Evelyn's wishes for an understanding, a much 
 more experienced woman would have been at a loss to 
 ripen one. 
 
 Evelyn longed to confide in Caroline, -to consult 
 iier. But Caroline, though still kind, had grown dis- 
 
 15 
 
jl I 
 
 lff>" 
 
 r ^ 
 
 M ^ 
 
 22H 
 
 aucr; ok, thk mysteiues. 
 
 tant. "I wish," said Evelyn, nnn niglit as sho sat in 
 Caroline's dressing-room, — " I wisji tlmt I know what 
 tone to take with Lord Vargravo. I fool more and more 
 convinced that a nnion hetween us is impossible; and 
 yet, precisely hocauso ho does not press it, am T unable 
 to tell him so. I wish you could undertake that task; 
 you seem such friends with him." 
 
 " I! " said Caroline, changing countenance. 
 " Yos, you! Nay, do not blusli, or I shall think you 
 envy me. Could you not save us both from tlie pain that 
 otherwise must come sooner or later ? " 
 
 " Lord Vargravo would not thank me for such an act of 
 friendship. Resides, Evelyn, consider, — it is scarcely 
 possible to break off this engagement 7iow." 
 
 "Now! and why now?" said Evelyn, astonished. 
 " The world l)olieves it so implicitly: observe, who- 
 ever sits next you rises if Lord Vargrave approaches; 
 tlio neighborhood talk of nothing else liut your marriage; 
 and your fate, Evelyn, is not pitied." 
 
 "I will leave this placn; I will go back to the cot- 
 tage, —I cannot bear this!" said Evelyn, passionately, 
 wringing her hands. 
 
 " You do not love another, I am sure, — not young Mr. 
 Hare, with his green coat and strn w-colored whiskers; 
 nor Sir Henry Foxglove, with hi how-d'ye-do likn a 
 view-halloo; perhaps, indeed, Colonel Legard, — ho is 
 handsome. What! do you blush at his name? No; 
 you say ' not Legard. ' Who else is there ? " 
 
 " You are cruel, — you trifle with me! " said Evelyn, 
 in tearful reproach; and she rose to go to her own 
 room. 
 
 " My dear girl," said Caroline, touched by her evi- 
 dent pain, "learn from me — if I may say so — that 
 marriages are not made in heaven! Yours will be as 
 
ATJCI': ; OR, TITF'; NfVSTKIUKS. 
 
 227 
 
 fortunate aa nartl. can hnstow. A lovo-matcl. is usuallv 
 the lca8t happy of all. Our foolish sox demand so much 
 in love; an.l love, after all, is but one blessing amoni: 
 many. Wealth and rank remain when love is hut a 
 i.eap of ashes. For my part, I have chosen my destiny 
 and my husband." 
 
 "Your husband!" 
 
 "Yes; you see him in Lord Doltimore. I daresay 
 
 Tu ?^", \ "'" ''^1^1'^ ""' ""''y «'"«™"« Corydon and 
 ^nyiiis. Jiut there was irony in Caroline's voice as 
 she spoke; and she sighed heavily. Evelyn did not 
 believe her serious; and the friends parted for the 
 night. 
 
 "Mine is a strange fate!" said Caroline to herself- 
 I am asked by the man whom I love, and who pro- 
 fesses to love me, to bestow myself on another, and to 
 plead for him to a youn^.r au I fairer bride. Well I 
 will obey him in tho arst; the last is a bitterer task, 
 and I cannot perfnvm it earnestly. Yet Vargrave has 
 a strange power over me; and when I look round the 
 world, I see that he is right. In these most common- 
 place artifices, there is yet a wild majesty that charms 
 and fascinates me. It is something to rule the world; 
 and his and mine are natures formed to do so." 
 
m 
 
 E? ' .1 I 
 
 228 
 
 ALICE; OK, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A smoke raised with the fume of sighs. 
 
 Romeo and Juliet, 
 
 It is certain that Evelyn experienced for Maltravers 
 sentiments which, if not love, might easily be mistaken 
 for it. But whether it were that master-passion, or 
 merely its fanciful resemblance, love in early youth 
 and innocent natures, if of sudden growth, is long be- 
 fore it makes itself apparent. Evelyn had been prepared 
 to feel an interest in her solitary neighbor. His mind, 
 as developed in his works, had half formed her own.' 
 Her childish adventure with the stranger had never 
 been forgotten. Her present knowledge of Maltravers 
 was a union of dangerous and often opposite associa- 
 tions, — the ideal and the real. 
 
 Love, in its first dim and imperfect shape, is but 
 imagination concentrated on one object. It is a genius 
 of the heart resembling that of the intellect; it appeals 
 to, it stirs up, it evokes the sentiments and sympathies 
 that lie most latent in our nature. Its sigh is the spirit 
 that moves over tlie ocean, and arouses the Anadyomene 
 into life. Therefore is it that mind produces affections 
 deeper than those of external form; therefore it is that 
 women are worsliippers of glory, which is the palpable 
 and visible representative of a genius whose operations 
 they cannot always comprehend. Genius has so much 
 in common with love,— the imagination that animates 
 one is so much the property of the other, — that there ia 
 
 JL 
 
AUCr';; OR, THE MYSTERIKS. 
 
 229 
 
 not a surer sign of the existence of genius than the love 
 that It creates and bequeaths. It penetrates deeper than 
 the reason, -it binds a nobler captive than the fancy 
 As the sun upon the dial, it gives to the human hcari 
 both Its shadow and its light. Nations are its worship- 
 pers and wooers; and posterity learns from its oracles to 
 dream, to aspire, to adore! 
 
 Had Maltrayers declared the passion that consumed 
 him It IS probable that it would soon have kindled 
 a return. But his frequent absence, his sustained dis- 
 tance of manner, had served to repress the feelings that 
 in a young and virgin heart rarely flow with much force 
 until hey are invited and aroused. Le besoin d'aimer 
 in girls, IS, perhaps, in itself powerful; but it is fed bv 
 another want, le besoin d'etre aimeef If, therefore. 
 Evelyn at present felt love for Maltravers. the love 
 had certainly not passed into the core of life: the tree 
 had not so far struck its roots but what it might have 
 borne transplanting. There was in her enough of the 
 pride of sex to have recoiled from the thought of giving 
 love to one who had not asked the treasure. Capable 
 of attachment, more trustful, and therefore, if less 
 vehement, more beautiful and durable than that which 
 had animated the brief tragedy of Florence Lascelles 
 she could -not have been the unknown correspondent! 
 or revealed the soul, because the features wore a mask 
 
 It must also be allowed that in some respects Evelyn 
 was too young and inexperienced thoroughly to appre- 
 ciate all that was most truly lovable and attractive in 
 Maltravers. At four and twenty she would, perhaps, 
 .aye felt no fear mingled with her respect for him- 
 but seventeen and six and thirty is a wide interval! 
 She never felt that there was that difference in years 
 until she had met Legard, and then at once she com- 
 
230 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 prehended it. With Legard she had moved on equal 
 terms; he was not too wise, too high, for her everv- 
 •lay thoughts. He less excited her imagination, less 
 attracted her reverence. But, somehow or other that 
 voice which proclaimed her power, those eves which 
 never turned from hers, went nearer to her heart As 
 Evelyn had once said to Caroline, " It was a great 
 enigma!' -her own feelings were a mystery to her- 
 and she reclined by the " Golden Waterfalls" without 
 tracing her likeness in the glass of the pool below 
 
 Maltravers appeared again at the Rectory. He joined 
 their parties v day, and his evenings were spent with 
 them as of old. In this I know n :t precisely what were 
 his motives; perhaps he did not know them himself 
 It might be that his pride was roused; it might be tnat 
 he could not endure the notion that Lord Vargrave 
 should guess his secret, by an absence almost otherwise 
 unaccountable. Me could not patiently bear to give Var- 
 grave that^ triumph; it might be that, in the sternness 
 of his self-esteem, he imagined he had already con- 
 quered all save affectionate interest in Evelyn's fate 
 and trusted too vainly to his own strength; and it 
 might be, also, that he could not resist the temptation 
 of seeing if Evelyn were contented with her lot, and if 
 Vargrave were worthy of the blessing that awaited him. 
 Whether one of these, or all united, made him resolve 
 to brave his danger, -or whether, after all, he yielded 
 to a weakness, or consented to what, invited by Evelyn 
 herself, was almost a social necessity, -the reader, and 
 not the narrator, shall decide. 
 
 Legard was gone; but Doltimore remained in the 
 neighborhood, having hired a hunting-box not far from 
 bir John Merton's manors, over which ho easily ob- 
 tained permission to sport. When he did not dine 
 
 |.'J • i 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 231 
 
 elsewhere there was always a place for him at the 
 parsons hospitable board,— and that place was gen- 
 erally next to Caroline. Mr. and Mrs. Merton had 
 given up all hope of Mr. Maltravers for their eldest 
 daughter; and, very strangely, this conviction came upon 
 their minds on the first day they made the acquaintance 
 of the young lord. 
 
 " My dear," said the rector, as he was winding up his 
 watch preparatory to entering the connubial coucli, — 
 ^my^dear, I don't think Mr. Maltravers is a marrying 
 
 * > 
 
 "I • just going to make the same remark," said 
 Mrs .on, drawing the clothes over her. " Lord 
 
 Doltimore IS a very fine young man, -his estates un- 
 encumbered. I like him vastly, my love. He is evi- 
 dently smitten with Caroline: so Lord Vargrave and 
 Mrs. Hare said." 
 
 " Sensible, shrewd woman, Mrs. Hare. By the bye 
 we '11 send her a pineapple. Caroline was made to be 
 a woman of rank ! " 
 
 " Quite ; so much self-possession ! " 
 
 " And if Mr. Maltravers would sell or let Burleigh — " 
 
 " It would be so pleasant. " 
 
 " Had you not better give Caroline a hint? " 
 
 "My love, she is so sensible, let her go her own way " 
 You are right, my dear Betsy; I shall always say 
 tliat no one has more common-sense than you: you have 
 brought up your children admirably! " 
 
 "Dear Charles!" 
 
 " It is coldish to-night, love," said the rector; and he 
 put out the candle. 
 
 From that time, it was not the fault of Mr. and Mrs 
 Merton if Lord Doltimore did not find their house the 
 pleasantest in the county. 
 
■"•■ • f 
 
 
 932 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 One evening the Rectory party were assembled to- 
 gether in the cheerful drawing-room. Cleveland, Mr. 
 Merton Sir John, and Lord Vargrave, reluctantly com- 
 pelled to make up the fourth, were at the whist-table: 
 Lvelyn Caroline, and Lord Doltimore, were seated 
 round the fire; and Mrs. Merton was working a foot- 
 stoo The fire burned clear, the curtains were down. 
 
 comforJ '"^ ^"^'' '^ '"'' ^ ^^'""^ ^''^'''' °^ ^^^g^'^t 
 
 Mr. Maltravers was announced. 
 
 hnl7 ^"^ !^f ^f"? ^'^ '•'"'" ^* ^^<' «aid Caroline, 
 holding out her fair hand. " Mr. Cleveland could not 
 answer for you. We are all disputing as to which mode 
 of life is the happiest. " 
 
 "And your opinion? » asked Maltraver«, seating him- 
 
 Evelyn's ''''"* chair, - it chanced to be next to 
 
 "My opinion is decidedly in favor of London. A 
 rnetropohtan life, with its perpetual and graceful ex- 
 citements: the best music, the best companions.- the 
 best things, in short. Provincial life .s so dull, its 
 pleasures so tiresome, _ to talk over the last year's news 
 and wear out one's last year's dresses; cultivate a con- 
 
 SCS;» '''' ^''^ '''''' "^*^ ' y^^^ p-ty- 
 
 "I agree with Miss Merton," said Lord Doltimore 
 solemnly; "not but what 1 like the country for three o; 
 four months in the year, with good shooting and hunt- 
 ing and a large house properly filled,. -independent of 
 one s own neighborhood, _ but if I am condemned to 
 choose one place to live iu, give me Paris " 
 
 ♦^ ^ ', ,^r'///''''' ''^' '^ Pa"«- I should so like 
 to travel I " said Caroline. 
 
 "But the inns abroad are so very bad," said Lord 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 233 
 
 Doltimore; "how people can rave about Italy I can't 
 
 "Perhaps I shall be able to answer you b^tte- in 
 a short time T tv.i'r.1- r.t . "^ o^ue. m 
 
 to Paris." accompanying Mr. Cleveland 
 
 " Indeed !" said Caroline "WpII t 
 it is a sudden resolution r' ' ^ '"'^ ^'''' ^"' 
 
 " Not very. " 
 
 « Mv T "'"^ ^°"^ ^ '" ''^'^ ^''^ Doltimore. 
 My stay is uncertain. " 
 
 " 7.f T? '"; -'T? ^'' ^"'^^^8^ •" *he mean while t » 
 it .vflf lt:!tl '^"' '' '' °"- '-' '-- -y ^-ds. 
 
 T I'Tu""" 'P"^' ^'""^^^' «"^ *he subject was chaneed 
 Lord Doltimore challenged Caroline to ches. ^ 
 
 ^.They sat down, and Lord Doltimore arranged the 
 
 '-tS:s^^^rt-ff-.^ord; 
 
 able. Don't you think so ? » ^ '" '^''' '^''" 
 
 "Y-o-s." 
 
 " Lord Vargrave is verv kind fr> «,« . t 
 ber anv nno t • "^ to me; I never remem- 
 
 i>er any one being more so: cot J.pcuv^ fi,of • . 
 
 session!" "^ ^^"^ "^^ ^^^8 ^*ext 
 
 " H7i:r mtrLtd^^^^ '^/r'" --'i '--''-' 
 
 prime minister one of thltys." ' '^ "^" '^ 
 
 I take the bishop. Do you think so rr^llvl v 
 are rather a politician?" "^* ^°" 
 
 I'll 
 
234 
 
 ALICE ; OB, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 I. 
 
 ^1:1 
 
 ■ 
 
 .'*' 'i 
 
 h i >' 
 
 "Oh, no; not much of that. But my father and mv 
 uncle are stanch politicians; gnntlemon know so much 
 more than ladies. We should always go by their opin- 
 ions I th,nk I will take the queen's pawn. Your 
 politics are the same as Lord Vargrave's?" 
 
 "Yes, I fancy so: at least I shall leave my proxy 
 with lum. Glad you don't like politics, -greal ZJ' 
 W hy , so young, so connected as you are — " Tarn, 
 lino stopped short, and made a ..rong move 
 
 ; I wish we were going to Paris together, toe should 
 
 ^Caroline coughed, and stretched her hand quickly to 
 
 and Doltimore placed his hand on hers; their eyes met, 
 
 said Evelyn; and she felt very sad. But still the 
 
 Let^dhXn"'"^'^^^^^^'^^^^^^^*-^^^- 
 
 " I do not think I shall long stay away," said Mai 
 travers. trying to speak indifferently. "Burleigh has 
 become more dear to me than it was in earlie youfh 
 perhaps because I have made myself duties there, and 
 n other places, I am but an isolated and useless unit in 
 the great mass." 
 
 "You! -everywhere you must have occupations and 
 resources; everywhere you must find yourself not alone. 
 i5ut you will not go yet 1 " 
 
 rpJwK* r^ \ T ' ^^^^^y^'« spirits ^ose. ) " Have you 
 read the book I sent you? " (It was one of De Stael's.) 
 
 ii 1 
 
/ ..„-..^ 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 235 
 
 ■' Yes; but it disappoints mo." 
 "And wliy? it is oloquont." 
 
 „Jf^"* !r 'V'""^^ ^' ^^''''- '"^ '""'^'^ melancholy in life? 
 are the a^ections so full of bitterness ? For me. I am so 
 
 mother tl" " •'' "'"^ ' ''''■ '^''^ ' ^^ -^^^ " y 
 mothe the air seems more fragrant, the skies morl 
 
 blue, It ,s surely not affection, but the absence of it 
 tHat makes us melancholy ! " ' 
 
 JlTlT T'' -^"^ '^ ^' ^'^^ "«^^^ k"«^" '^ff^^tion. 
 we might not miss it; and the brilliant Frenchwoman 
 speaks from memory, while you speak from hope _ 
 memory, which is the ghost of joy; yet surely, even in 
 the indulgence of affection, there is at times a certain 
 melancholy, a certain fear. Have you never felt it. 
 even with — with your mother?" 
 
 .J' t^'T'' y'^'^'V^'' ^"ff^'-^d, or when I have thought 
 she loved me less than I desired." 
 
 " That must have been an idle and vain thought, 
 xour mother! does she resemble you?" 
 
 " I wish I could think so. Oh. if you knew her! I 
 have longed so often that you were acquainted with 
 
 !onV" "^^^ '^' ^^"^ *^"^''* ""^ ^ '^"S your 
 
 "My dear Mrs. Hare, we may as well throw up our 
 cards, said the keen, clear voice of Lord Vargrave- 
 
 you have played most admirably, and I know that 
 your last card will be the ace of trumps; still the luck 
 IS against us." 
 
 " No. no; pray play it out, my lord." 
 
 "Quite useless, ma'am," said Sir John, showing two 
 honors. We have only the trick to make " 
 
 Quite useless," echoed Lumley, tossing down hia 
 ioyereigns, and rising with a careless yawn. 
 
 " How d 'ye do, Maltravers? " 
 
23G 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 Maltravers rose; and Vargrave turned to Evelyn and 
 addressed her in a whisper. The proud Maltravers 
 walked away, and suppressed a sigh; a moment more 
 and he saw Lord Vargrave occupying the chair he 
 had left vacant. He laid his hand on Cleveland's 
 shoulder. 
 
 " The carriage is waiting. Are you ready ? " 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 237 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Obscuris vera involvens.i —Virgil. 
 
 A DAY or two after the date of the last chapter, Evelyn 
 and Caroline were riding out with Lord Vargravc and 
 Mr. Merton, and on returning home they passed through 
 the village of Burleigh. 
 
 " Maltravers, I suppose, has an eye to the county, one 
 of these days," said Lord Vargrave, who honestly fan- 
 cied that a man's eyes were always directed towards 
 something for his own interest or advancement ; " other- 
 wise he could not surely take all this trouble about 
 workhouses and paupers. Who could ever have im- 
 agined my romantic friend would sink into a country 
 squire 1 " ^ 
 
 " It is astonishing what talent and energy he throws 
 into everything he attempts," said the parson. "One 
 could not, indeed, have supposed that a man of genius 
 could make a man of business." 
 
 "Flattering to your humble servant, — whom all the 
 world allow to be the last, and deny to be the first 
 But your remark shows what a sad possession genius 
 is: like the rest of the world, you fancy that it cannot 
 be of the least possible use. If a man is called a genius 
 It means that he is to be thrust out of all the good 
 things in this life. He is not fit for anything but a 
 garret! Put a genius into office: make a genius a 
 bishop, or a lord chancellor! — the world would be 
 turned topsy-turvy. You see that you are quite aston- 
 * Wrapping truth in obscurity. 
 
 'I 
 

 
 238 
 
 alick; ok, Tirr; mystkries. 
 
 sherl that a genms can ho. even a county magistrate, 
 and know the difference between a spade and a poker 
 in fact, a genius is suppose.l to be the most ignorant 
 impracticable, good-for-nothing, do-nothing sort of thing 
 hat ever walked upon I ,vo legs. Well, when I began 
 life, I took excellent, care that nobody should take me 
 for a genius; and it is only within the last year or two 
 that I have ventured to emerge a little out of my shell 
 I have not been the better for it; I was getting on fastei 
 while I was merely a plodder. The world is so fond of 
 that droll fable, the hare and the tortoise, -it really 
 believes, because (I suppose the fable to be true!) a 
 tortoise once beat a hare, that all tortoises are much 
 better runners than hares possibly can be. Mediocre 
 men have the monopoly of the loaves and fishes; and 
 even when talent does rise in life, it is a talent which 
 
 a^tbuX"" "''"'*' '' '^*"' "-''' ^"^^^^"^ 
 
 la,Z? T J''"''', ^'"''^ Vargrave," said Caroline, 
 laughing; "yet surely you have had no reason to com' 
 plain ot the non-appreciation of talent?" 
 
 the story of the leanU wh^t ^.t t^rt 
 to prevent being blown away ! Mais a nos rmutZl 
 to return to Maltravers. Let us suppose tl he Jv^^ 
 merely clever, had not had a particle of what sea led 
 genius been merely a hard-working able gentleman of 
 fh^^mTt-^".' fortune.-he might bfh^!?:;. 
 he hill by this time; whereas now what is he? Less 
 before the public than he was at twenty-eight. -ad 
 contented anchorite, a meditative idler " 
 
 cheld' heir'" "^' ^^^^^"' ^^''^'^' -^ *^- 
 
 * ;i 
 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 239 
 
 edge of life toM hnn timt Log.rd was a much mor« 
 dangerous rival than Maltraver. Xow and then. Tt . 
 true a suspicion to the contrary crossed him; but t did 
 not tako root and become a serious apprehension. StHl 
 he did not quite like the tone of voic^ in wliich Evelyn 
 
 sneer'!!. '^'"'' '"«'"'^' '''' ^^'^^ ^''^ « ^4^t 
 
 " If not that, what is he ? " 
 _ " One who purchased, by the noblest exertions the 
 nght to be die." said Evelyn, with spirit, « a "whom 
 gonius Itself will not suffer to be idle loL.." 
 
 Besides," said Mr. Merton, "he has won a high 
 
 " Reputation! Oh, yes! we give men like that- 
 men o genius -a large property in the clouds, in order 
 to justify ourselves in pushing them out of our wav 
 below. But If they are contented with fame, why. they 
 deserve their fate. Hang fame; give me power » ^ 
 And IS there no power in genius," said Evelyn 
 with deepening fervor, - " no power over the mind and 
 the heart and the thought; no power over its own time 
 urbornT"'''*^' °'''' '''"''"' ^"^ uncivilized, races yet 
 This burst from one so simple and young as Evelyn 
 seemed to Vargrave so surprising that he stared on her 
 Avithout saying a word. 
 
 "You will laugh at my championship," she added, 
 with a blush and a smile; "but you provoked the 
 encounter. 
 
 "And you have won the battle," said Vargrave, with 
 prompt gallantry. "My charming ward. 'ever; day 
 develops in you some new gift of nature." 
 
K r>, 
 
 UJ 
 
 210 
 
 ALICE; OH, THK MYSTERIES, 
 
 Caroline, with a movement of impatience, put her 
 horse into a ranter. 
 
 Just at this time, from a cross-road emerged a horse- 
 man, -it was Maltravers. The party halted; saluta- 
 tions were exchanged. 
 
 " I suppose you have been enjoying the sweet business 
 of squiredom," said Vargrave, gayly: «' Atticus and his 
 tarm, — classical associations! Charming woathcr for 
 the agriculturists, eh? What news abou, corn and 
 barley? I suppose our English habit of talking on 
 the weather arose when we were all a squiiearchal 
 farming, George III. kind of people! Weather is 
 really a snriouq matter to gentl..men who are interested 
 in beans and vetches, wheat and hay. You hang your 
 happiness upon the changes of the moon!" 
 
 " As you upon the smiles of a minister. The weather 
 of a court is more capricious than that of the skies • at 
 least we are better husbandmen than you who sow the 
 wind and reap the whirlwind." 
 
 , !7^^V.''*f'*''*^ ''"'^ '^'''"^' '^^^" I Jook round, I am 
 half inclined to envy you. Were I not Vargrave I 
 would be Maltravers." 
 
 It was, indeed, a scene that seemed quiet and serene. 
 
 with the English union of the feu.lal and the pastoral 
 
 ife: the village-green, with its trim scattered cottages; 
 
 the fields and pastures that spread beyond; the turf of 
 
 the park behind, broken by the shadows of the unequal 
 
 grounds, with its mounds and hollows and venerable 
 
 groves, from which rose the turrets of the old hall 
 
 Its raullion windows gleaming in the western sun —a 
 
 scene that preached tranquillity and content, and might 
 
 have been equally grateful to humble philosophy and 
 
 hereditary piide. "^ 
 
 " I never saw any place so peculiar in its character as 
 
ALICE; OH, TllK MYSTERIES. 
 
 241 
 
 ;mh„gh, saul tho rect.>r; " the old seats left to us in 
 Lnyland are chiefly those of our groat nobles. It is so 
 rare to see one that .loes not aspire beyond the resi.l..„cr. 
 of a private gentleman preserve all tho relics of the 
 ludor age. 
 
 "I think," said Vargravo, tuin.u/ to Evelyn, "that 
 as by my uncle's will yo. r fortune . to be laid out in 
 the purchase of land, we .■aul! not f. id a better invest- 
 "i.3ut Umn liurleigh. So w. .over you are in.lined to 
 sel , Multravers, I think we must outbid Doltiraore. 
 WJiat say you, my fair ward?" 
 
 "Leave Burleigh in peace, I beseech you!" said 
 MaJtravors, angrily. 
 
 ''That is said like a Digby," returned Vargrave. 
 AUons! will you not come home with us?" 
 
 " I thank you, —not to-day." 
 
 "We meet at Lord Raby's next Thursday. It is a 
 ball given almost wholly in honor of your return to 
 Burleigh; we are all going, -it is my young cousin's 
 debut at Knaresdean. We have all an interest in her 
 conquests. " 
 
 Now as Maltravers looked up to answer, he caught 
 i^velyn s glance, and his voice faltered. 
 
 ''.^?,'" ^ «^^'^' "^^<^ shall meet,— once again. 
 Adieu! He wheeled round his horse, and they 
 separated. "^ 
 
 ''I can bear this no more," said Maltravers to him- 
 self; « I overrated my strength. To see her thus day 
 after day, and to know h.r another's; to writhe beneath 
 his calm, unconscious assertion of his rights. Happy 
 Vargrave! -and yet. ah, will she be happy? Oh 
 could I think so!" ^^^ 
 
 Thus soliloquizing, he suffered the rein to fall on the 
 neck of his horse, which paced slowly home through the 
 
 le 
 
M jr 
 
 h 
 
 ;m 
 
 ^1 
 
 I'!' 
 
 
 242 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 torn, at the door of a cottage a stone's tlirow from the 
 
 had Maltravers stopped regularly; it was now tenanted 
 by the poor woman, his introduction to whom has been 
 
 eff r of'^'- • ''\'^' "^°^^^^^ ^-- *he immediate 
 
 effect, of the injury she had sustained; but her consti- 
 
 ution, greatly broken by previous suffering and ex- 
 
 nwlT' '^V;r^^"^ ' '"^^^^^ ^^-«k. She'was hurt 
 h Ho?; *h« -rgeon informed Maltravers that she 
 
 tl e oof T' ""'f ?' ': ''"^- "^ ^'^'^ P^^«^^ her under 
 
 Tved all t^ ;' '''"'*^ "'^'*^^^'^«' ^^h-« «he re- 
 
 ceived all the assistance and alleviation that careful 
 nursing and medical advice could give her 
 
 Ihis poor woman, whose name was Sarah Elton 
 mterested Maltravers much; she had known b^t ; 
 
 Sob r 7T ' '''''''' ^''P^'^'y i" her expressions 
 which denoted an education superior to her circum 
 
 far more to feel her husband's death than her own suf- 
 
 Sws' U \\ """ i"" " ""'''''' '' -^ «— ^ 
 widows the other side of forty. We sav that vn„fl, 
 
 easily consoles itself for the ^obb^esTf tt /rave' 
 n^ ddle age IS a still better self-comforter. When Mr ' 
 Elton found herself installed in the cottage, she looked 
 round, and burst into tears. 
 
 ." ^°f William is not here! " she said. « Friends 
 fnends! if we had had but one such friend before he 
 
 ..tf "^'.Tf^ """' P^'"'"'^ *hat her first thought was 
 rather that of sorrow for the dead than of gratitude iZ 
 the living Yet Mrs. Elton was gratefu!,-sTniply 
 honesty, deeply grateful; her manner her voice be- 
 tokened it. And she seemed so glad when Z ill 
 
ALICK; OR, TlIK MYSTERIES. 243 
 
 fector callod to speak kindly, and inquire cordially that 
 Maltravers did so constantly, at first from a ompa 
 sionate, and at last from a selfish motive, _ for who L 
 
 fli "V^r'^'^ *" '"'"'^ ^°^ '""^ that perhaps he wis 
 flaUered by the grateful respect of this humble' ranglr 
 
 onlr.. "^ '^''■"^ ^*^PP^^' *he cottager's dauSr 
 opened the door and courtesied, - it was'an invitf on 
 to enter; and he threw his rein over the pal), and 
 walked into the cottage. ^ ^ 
 
 Mrs. Elton, who had been seated by the open case- 
 ment, rose to receive him. But Mai tLers made er 
 sit down and soon put her at her ease. The woman 
 and her daughter who occupied the cottage ret redTnto 
 he garden; and Mrs. Elton, watching them withdraw 
 then exclaimed abruptly,— vimuraw, 
 
 I s'oTo^ffl^ have so longed to see you this morning. 
 1 so long to make bold to ask you whether, indeed I 
 dreamed .t or did I. when you first took me to your 
 house -did I see-" She stopped abruptly ; "^anl 
 though she strove to suppress her emotion, ft w s too 
 trong for her efforts, -she sank back on her chaiifp le 
 as death, and almost gasped for breath. ^ 
 
 Maltravers waited in surprise for her recovery 
 1 beg pardon, si. , I was thinking of days lontr 
 past, and -but I wished to ask whether^ when I L.; in 
 your hall, almost insensible, any one besides yo^^'eS 
 and your servants were present ? Or was it, " added the 
 woman, with a shudder.- " was it the dead ? » 
 
 inJjT'^l""'" '"'^ Maltravers, much struck and 
 inteie^sted xn her question and manner. " that a lady was 
 
 and' ^!l '' '"' T '* ',' '' ' " ''''^ *^« ^«"^«"' half rising 
 and clasping her hands. "And she passed by thif 
 

 244 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 
 
 she turncl tluvt fair young face towards the cottage 
 Her nanie, sir, _ oh, what is her name? It was t\; 
 
 ot pain ! I did not dream ! I was not mad ' " 
 
 Compose yourself; you could never, I think have 
 
 seen that lady before. Her name is Canleron " ' 
 
 Cameron, Cameron!" the woman shook her head 
 
 ner mother, sir, — she is dead? " 
 "Xo; her mother lives." 
 
 said aftt' ''""' '''''' '^^ ^''^^ '^ '^' «"ff-^r' «nd she 
 saui, alter a pause, — 
 
 "My eyes deceive me then, sir; and, indeed, I feel 
 
 "Likenesses are very deceitful, and very capricious 
 and depend more on fancy than reality. One person 
 discovers a likeness between faces most di siSr 
 a likeness invisible to others. But whom does M L^ 
 Cameron resemble ? " 
 
 " «"e now dead, sir; dead many years ago. But it is 
 a long story, and one that lies heavy on my conscienc 
 Some day or other, if you will give me leave, sir. I w i 
 unburden myself to you. " ' 
 
 JJ! I"'" "''''* ^°" '" '"^ '''y- ^"'""'^"'^ ^'' Mean- 
 while, have you no friends, no relations, no children 
 whom you ^, uld wish to see ? » ^nuaren. 
 
 orcn (he laid an emphasis on the last words), "and 
 that died in a foreign land! " 
 
 " And no other relatives ? " 
 
 ".^one, sir. My history is very short and simple. 
 
ALICE ; OR, THE iiysremKs. 245 
 
 w.nl into service will, ,17 ,™ } ™ '''''^''- ""d i 
 
 n-.ueh attache? l„ hi" r^'.r"':'' "'°' ""'" ^ --"^ 
 
 ing. I was silwL f ! '=™*°'" '" '"" niany- 
 
 4 he sS't rSed 'a ;* "",1?' ^""■■™ '-^^ 
 
 Med ™e so I ^rirlt; ^ ,"' ^dM ™T ,""'■ 
 I was rightly duiu^Iip,! f i ■:, ^^^ "<^* ^ove. 
 
 ^drinkingl lieCed t- ^ J,'" ^'^ T ""' '"^ '° 
 h,m, _ So, I was with cl,iH 1 w '" '"""P' *""> 
 t'ora hi, violence H"dL„df ' ™, '" """«" 
 And then, afterwards, a gde,,:"'"™'^'.™" '" "«■"■ 
 -to whom I rendered a ^eldoT,!/'* «'=""»""» 
 ■»e. sir, if I say the service wsoieVr'Th'f™''"' 
 gave me money, and made me ich eno^l '''^'"' 
 
 first lover- and \v;u- . t enough to marry mv 
 
 lived ma„; ^ arsteNew V I "™' '" ^'""'-- We 
 comfortably /an ll"T,,^°* T? ""' '""= fortune 
 always lov^ed '^'iir d 1^;=: "^^^'^ I haO 
 the death of mv chil,] w \. ! , affliction was 
 
 -on roused fro!^, .n;^,^ "(*! '"t"" ^ '"' ^ ™ 
 »lated, as evervbodv do.; ■ ™ "''"""='' '"'' V'"" 
 
 "11; and wiiiir;:, t:; v ir™?; ""' ^° "^ >-' 
 
 lenath ha „ot n , ^ "'" °°"1<' no' >voi k. At 
 
 from N fork';: I r f "™'" °" '»"«' » v-» 
 sist in the I • ■ We Ti";"" ' ™^ "'" '" - 
 thought mv old l,.lf 7'"'"'.''' "ome to Loadou: I 
 
 "Mhough Ltdntfr;::^ L?" 'T'''"« '- 
 
 Hut poor William fell ,., "f " « le«™ I sent him. 
 of land." ' '" °" '""'■''• a'"l died in sight 
 
246 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 I'll '' 
 
 Mrs. Elton wept bitterly, but with the suMued grief 
 of one to whom tears have been familiar; and when 
 she recovered, she soon brought her humbi; tale to a^ 
 end. S. herself, incapacitated from all work by sor- 
 low and a b ;king constitution, was left in the streets of 
 Live pool without other means of subsistence than the 
 charitable contributions of the passengers and sailors on 
 board the vessel With this sum she'had gone to W 
 don where she found her old patron had been long since 
 dead, and she had no claims on his family. She had 
 
 Zr^\^J^'f' '''' ^"^ ^^^^"- -t^Jed in a town 
 m the Kor h; thither she now repaired, to find her last 
 hope wrecked: the relation also' was dead and gone 
 Ixer money was now spent, and she had begged her way 
 
 whTthe linTf' "-iT^^ ^'^ lanes, shelcarcekZ 
 whither. Ill the accident, which, in shortening her life 
 
 had raised up a friend for its close. ' 
 
 "And ^uch, sir," said she, in conclusion, -"such 
 
 has been the story of my life, except one ^art of¥ 
 
 which. If I get stronger, I can tell better; bu^ you w i' 
 excuse that now. " >• j'uu Arui 
 
 ." ^"f ^'^ y«" comfortable and contented, my poor 
 friend ? These pec jle are kind to you V 
 
 "Oh, so kind! and -rv night we all pray for you 
 sir; you ought to be ha,n;y, if the blessings of the Zv 
 can avail the rich." ^ 
 
 Maltravers remounted his horse, and sought his home : 
 and his heart was lighter than before he entered tTa 
 cottage. But at evening Cleveland talked of Vargrave 
 and Evelyn and the good fortune of the on., and 1 
 
 bt'll '''"' '"' ''^ "^""'' '^ ^^" ---^*'' 
 
 "I heard from De Montaigne the other day," said 
 
 il-inest, just as they were retiring for the night, " and 
 
 i>: 
 
ALICE; OR, THR MVSTERIES. 247 
 
 his letter decides mv movpniPnf« t* . 
 
 " Yes; that gives us a day to recover from Lord Rabv's 
 
 counly » *■ -^'"^ ""P""' "' ^°- '"■« looked to for the 
 peZ ■''"™ ''°''° "'"■ >»""-■ -^ -cken Wt fo. 
 
BOOK V. 
 
 Hes. : Op. et Dies, 40, 
 
 Fools blind to truth ; nor know their erring soul 
 How much the half is better than the whole 
 
BOOK V. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Do as the Heavens have done : forget your evil ; 
 With them, forgive yourself. 
 
 The Winter^B Tale. 
 
 The sweet'st companion that e'er man 
 Bred his hopes out of. 
 
 Ibid. 
 
 The curate of Brook-Green was sitting outside his door. 
 The vicarage which he inhabited was a straggling, irreg- 
 ular, but picturesque building, humble enough to suit 
 the means of the curate, yet large enough to accommo- 
 date the vicar. It had been built in an age when the 
 indigentes et pauperes, for whom universities were 
 founded, supplied more than they do now the foimtains 
 of the Christian ministry, — when pastor and flock were 
 more on an equality. 
 
 From under a rude and arched porch, with an oaken 
 settle on either side for the poor visitor, the door opened 
 at once upon the old-fashioned parlor, — a homely but 
 pleasant room, with one wide but low cottage casement, 
 beneath which stood the dark shining table, that sup- 
 ported the large Bible in its green baize cover, the Con- 
 cordance, and the last Sunday's sermon in its jetty case. 
 There by the fireplace stood the bachelor's round elbow- 
 chair, with a needlework cushion at the back; a walnut- 
 tree bureai • nother table or two; half a dozen plain 
 
 i "^' 
 
■ !. , -I 
 
 h' I'M" 
 
 I ! 
 
 ^•. .^ 
 
 1 1 
 
 252 
 
 ALICK; OK, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 chairs constituted the rest of the furniture, saving some 
 two or three hundred volumes, ranped in neat shelves on 
 the clean wainscoted wn^' .. ., was nnothor room, 
 to which you ascended by two steps, communicating 
 with this parlor, smaller, but finer, and inhabited only 
 on festive days, when Lady Vargrave or some other 
 quiet neighbor came to drink tea with the good curate. 
 
 An old housekeeper and her grandson — a young fel- 
 low of about two and twenty, who tended the garden, 
 milked the cow, and did in fact what he was wanted to 
 do — composed the establishment of the humble minister. 
 
 We have digressed from Mr. Aubrey himself. 
 
 The curate was seated, then, one fine summer morning, 
 on a bench at the left of l is porch, screened from the 
 sun by the cool bought of a chestnut-tree, the shado'v A 
 which half covered the little lawn that separated the 
 precincts of the house from those of silent death and 
 everlasting hope; above the irregular and moss-grown 
 paling rose the village church; and through openings 
 in the trees, beyond th(' burial-ground, partially gleamed 
 the white walls of Latly Vargrave's cottage, and were 
 seen at a distance the sails on the 
 
 " Mighvy waters, idling evermore." 
 
 The old man was calmly enjoying the beauty of the 
 morning, th" f' shness of the air, the -"'armth of the 
 dancing beain, and not least, perhaps, his own peaceful 
 thoughts, — the spontaneous children of a conte;aplativo 
 spirit and a quiet conscience. '. lis was the age when we 
 most sensitively enjo ^.he more sense of existence; 
 when the face of natux- id passive conviction of the 
 benevolence of our ' at her, suffice to create a 
 serene and ineffable hiippiness, which rarely isits us 
 till we have done with the passions, — till memorier^, if 
 
alicr; or, the mystkries. 
 
 253 
 
 more alive than horetofore, are yet melloweil in the 
 hues of time, and faith softens into harmony all their 
 asperities and harshness; till notliing witliin us remains 
 to cast a shadow over the things without; and on the 
 verge of life, the angels are nearer to us than of yore. 
 There is an old age which has more youtli of heart than 
 youth itself. 
 
 As the old man thus sat, the little gatt through which, 
 on Sabbath days, he was woi.l to pass from the humble 
 mansion to the house of God, noiselessly opened, and 
 Lady Vargrave appeared. 
 
 The curate rose when he perceived her; and the lady's 
 fair features were lighted up with a gentle pleasure, as 
 she prt ssed his hand and returned his salutation. 
 
 There was a peculiarity in Lady Vargrave's counte- 
 nance which I have rarely seen in others. Her smile, 
 which was singularly expressive, came less from the lip 
 *han from the eyes; it was almost as if the brow smiled, 
 - it was as the sudden and momentary vanishing of a 
 light 1 it melancholy cloud that usually rested upon the 
 featii placid as they were. 
 
 They -at down on the rustic i)ench, and the sea-breeze 
 wantoned amongst the quivering leaves of the chestnut- 
 tree that overhung their seat. 
 
 " I have come, as usual, to consult my kind friend," 
 said Lady Vargrave; "and as usual also, it is ab' it 
 our absent Evt yn." 
 
 " Have you heard again from her, this morning ? " 
 
 " Yes ; and her letter increases the anxiety which your 
 observation, '^o much deeper than mine, first awakened." 
 
 " Does she then write much of Lord Vargrave ? " 
 
 " Not a great deal ; but the little she does say, betrays 
 how much she shrinks from the union my poor husband 
 desired, — n, tc, indeed, than ever! But this is not all, 
 
V 
 
 h''\ 
 
 •■\ 
 
 254 
 
 ALICK ; 01{, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 nor the worst; for you know tliat the late lord ha<l 
 provided against that prohability (lio loved her ho ten- 
 derly, his ambition for her only came from his affec- 
 iion), and the letter he left behind him pardons and 
 tcleases her if she revolts from the choice he himself 
 preferred. " 
 
 " Lord Vargravo is perhaps a generous, he certainly 
 seems a candi<l man, and he must be sensible that his 
 uncle has aheaily done all that justice required." 
 
 " I think so. But tliis, as I said, is not all ; I have 
 brought the letter to show you. It seems to me as you 
 apprehended. This Mr. Maltravers has wound himself 
 about her thoughts more tlian she herself imagines: you 
 see how she dwells on all that concerns him, and how, 
 after checking herself, she returns again and again to 
 the same subject." 
 
 The curate put on his spectacles, and took the letter. 
 It was a strange tiling, — that old, gray-haired minister 
 evincing such grave interest in the secrets of that young 
 heart! But they who would take charge of the soul 
 must never be too wise to regard the heart. 
 
 Lady Vargrave looked over his shoulder as he bent 
 down to read, and at times placed her finger on such 
 passages as she wished him to note. The old curate 
 nodded as she did so ; but neither spoke till the letter 
 was concluded. 
 
 The curate then folded up the epistle, took off his 
 spectacles, hemmed, and looked grave. 
 
 " Well," said Lady Vargrave, anxiously — " well? " 
 
 " My dear friend, the letter requires consideration. 
 In the first place, it is clear to me that, in spite of Lord 
 Vargrave's presence at the Rectory , his lordship so man- 
 ages matters that the poor child is unable of herself to 
 bring that matter to a conclusion; and, indeed, to a 
 
 :v\ 
 
ALICE; oil, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 255 
 
 mind so sensitively dolicato and honorublo, it is no easy 
 task." 
 
 " Shall I write to Lord Vargrave 1 " 
 
 " Let us think of it. In the mean while, this Mr. 
 Maltravers — " 
 
 " Ah, tliis Mr. Maltravers! " 
 
 " The child shows us more of lier heart than she thinks 
 of; and yet I myself am puzzled. If you observe, she 
 has only once or twice spoken of the Colonel Lcgard 
 whom she has made ac(|uaintanc(3 with; while she treats 
 at length of Mr. Maltravers, and confesses the effect he 
 has produced on her mind. Yet, do you know, I more 
 dread the caution respecting the first than all the 
 candor that betrays the influence of the last? There is 
 a great difference between first fancy and first love." 
 
 " la there? " said the lady, abstractedly. 
 
 " Again, neither of us is acquainted with this singular 
 man, — I mean Maltravers; his character, temper, and 
 principles, — of all of which Evelyn is too young, too 
 guileless, to judge for herself. One thing, however, in 
 her lutter speaks in his favor. " 
 
 "What is that?" 
 
 " He absents himself from her. This, if he has dis- 
 covered her secret, — or if he himself is sensible of too 
 great a charm in her presence, — would be the natural 
 course that an honorable and a strong mind would 
 pursue." 
 
 "What! — if he love her?" 
 
 "Yes, — while he believes her hand is engaged to 
 another. " 
 
 " True! What shall be done, if Evelyn should love, 
 and love in vain? Ah, ic is the misery of a whole 
 existence! " 
 " Perhaps she had better return to us," said Mr. 
 
8!|, 
 
 !«• 
 
 .'56 
 
 ALICE ; on, TIIR MYSTERIES. 
 
 Aubrey; "and yet, if already it be too late, and he? 
 affections are enga<i;od, we should still remain in igno- 
 rance respecting the motives and mind of the object of 
 her attachment. And he, too, might not know the true 
 nature of the obstacle connected with Lord Vargrave's 
 claims." 
 
 " Shall I, then, go to her? You know how I shrink 
 from strangers; how I fear curiosity, doubts, and ques- 
 tions; how" (and Lady Vargrave's voice faltered) — 
 " how unfitted I am for — for — " she stopped short, and 
 a faint blush overspread her cheeks. 
 
 The curate understood her, and was moved, 
 
 "Dear friend," said he, "will you intrust this charge 
 to myself? You know how Evelyn is endeared to me 
 by certain recollections. Perhaps, better than you, I 
 may be enabled silently to examine if this man be 
 worthy of her, and one who could secure her happiness ; 
 perhaps, better than you, I may ascertain the exact na- 
 ture of her own feelings towards him ; perhaps, too, bet- 
 ter than you, I may eifect an understanding with Lord 
 Vargrave." 
 
 "You are always my kindest friend," said the lady, 
 with emotion. " How much I already owe you ! — what 
 hopes beyond the grave ! what — " 
 
 "Hush," interrupted the curate , gently ; "your own 
 good heart and pure intentions have worked out your 
 own atonement, — may I hope also your own content. 
 Let us return to our Evelyn: poor child! hov.' unlike 
 this despondent letter to her gay, light spirits when 
 with us! We acted for the best; yet perhaps we did 
 wrong to yield her up to strangers. And this Mal- 
 travers, — with her enthusiasm and quick susceptibilities 
 to genius, she was half prepared to imagine him all she 
 depicts him to be. He must have a spell in his works 
 
ALICE; 01!, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 257 
 
 that I have not discovered; for at times it seems to 
 cijerate even on you." 
 
 "Because," said Lady Vargravc, "they remind me of 
 his conversation, his lialnts of thought. If like him 
 in other tilings.. Evelyn may indeed be happy ! " 
 
 "And if," said the curate, curiously, — "if, now 
 that you are free, you were ever to meet with him 
 again, and his memory had been as faithful as yours; 
 and if he offered the solo atonement in his power for 
 all that his early error cost you, — if such a chance 
 should happen in the vicissitudes of life, you would — " 
 
 The curate stopped short; for he was struck by the 
 exceeding paleness of his friend's cheek and the tremor 
 of her delicate frame. 
 
 "If that were to happen," said she, in a very low 
 voice; " if we were to meet again, and if he were — as 
 you and Mrs. Le.slie seem to think — poor, and like my- 
 self, humbly born; if my fortune could assist him; if 
 my love could still — changed, altered as I am — ah, do 
 not lalk of it, — I cannot bear the thought of happiness! 
 And yet, if before I die I could but see him again! " 
 She clasped her hands fervently as she spoke, and the 
 blush that overspread her face threw over it so much of 
 bloom and freshness that even Evelyn at that moment 
 would scarcely have seemed more young. "Enough," 
 she added, after a littlo while, as the glow died away. 
 "It is but a foolish hope; all earthly love is buried; 
 and my heart is there! " She pointed to the heavens, 
 and both were silent. 
 
 IT 
 
•"TTimrr ii"M imi'i ui' im^. 
 
 258 
 
 alick; or, the mysteries. 
 
 \t I 
 
 fi 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Qiiibus otio vel magnified, vel molliter, vivere copia erat, incerta 
 pro ceitis malebant.i — Sallust. 
 
 LoKD Raby — one of the wealthiest and most splendid 
 noblemen in England — was prouder, perhaps, of his 
 provincial distinctions than the eminence of his rank 
 or the fashion of his wife. The magnificent chateaux, 
 the immense estates of our English peers, tend to 
 preserve to us, in spite of tlie freedom, bustle, and com- 
 mercial grandeur of our people, more of the Xorman 
 attributes of aristocracy than can be found in other coun- 
 tries. In liis county, the great noble is a petty prince, 
 his house is a court, his possessions and munificence are 
 a boast to every proprietor in his district. They are 
 as fond of talking of the earl's or the duke's movements 
 and e^iteifcainments, as Dangeau was of the gossip of the 
 Tuileries and Versailles. 
 
 Lord Raby, while affecting, as lieutenant of the 
 county, to make no political distinctions between squire 
 and squire, — hospitable and affable to all, — still, 
 by that very absence of exclusiveness, gave a tone to 
 the politics of the whole county, and converted many 
 Avho had once thought differently on the respective vir- 
 tues of Whigs and Tories. A jreat man never loses so 
 much as when he exhibits intolerance, or parades the 
 light of persecution. 
 
 1 Thoy who had the means to live at ease, either in splendor or 
 iu luxury, preferred the uucertaiuty of oliauge to their natural 
 security. 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 259 
 
 "My tenants shall vote exactly as they please," said 
 Lord Raby; and he was never known to have a tenant 
 vote against his wishes. Keeping a vigilant eye on all 
 the interests, and conciliating all the proprietors in the 
 county, he not only never lost a friend, but he kept to- 
 gether a body of partisans that constantly added to its 
 numbers. 
 
 Sir John Merton's colleague, a young Lord Nel- 
 thorpe, who could not speak three sentences if you took 
 away his hat, and who, constant at Alraack's, was not 
 only inaudible but invisible in Parliament, had no 
 chance of being re-elected. Lord Nelthorpo's father, 
 the Earl of Mainwaring, was a new peer, and next to 
 Lord Raby, the richest nobleman in the county. Now, 
 though they were much of the same politics. Lord Raby 
 hated Lord Mainwaring. They were too near each other ; 
 they clashed; they had the jealousy of rival princes. 
 
 Lord Raby was deliglited at the notion of getting rid 
 of Lord Nelthorpe, — it would be so sensible a blow to 
 the Mainwaring interest. The party had been looking 
 out for a new candidate, and Maltravers had beon much 
 talked of. It is true that when in Parliament some 
 years before, the politics of Maltravers had ditt'ered from 
 tliose of Lord Raby and his set. But Maltravers had of 
 late taken no share in politics, had uttered no political 
 opinions, Avas intimate with the electioneering Mertons, 
 was supposed to be a discontented man, — and politicians 
 believe in no discontent that is not political. Whispers 
 were afloat that Maltravers had grown wise, and changed 
 his views ; some remarks of his, more theoretical than 
 practical, were quoted in favor of this notion. Parties, 
 too, had much changed since Maltravers had appeared 
 on the busy scene; new questions had arisen, and the 
 old ones had died oti'. 
 
Jl—ttmmmil^ 
 
 im 
 
 ALTCR ; OR, TIIK .MYSTERIES. 
 
 Lord Rahy and his party tlioiii^rlit that if Maltravers 
 couUl be secured to tliciii, no one woiiM better suit their 
 purpose. Political faction loves converts better even 
 than consistent adherents. A man's rise in life genera, Ily 
 dates from a well-timed rat. His high reputation, 
 his provincial rank as the representative of the oldest 
 commoner's family in the county, his age, which com- 
 bined the energy of one period with the experience of 
 another, —all united to accord Maltravers a preference 
 over richer men. Lord Raby had been pointedly cour- 
 teous and flattering to the mast.-r of Burleigh ; and lie 
 now contrived it so that the brilliant entertainment he 
 was about to give might apj^ear in compliment to a 
 distinguished neighbor, returned to fix his residence on 
 his patrimonial property, while in reality it might serve 
 an electioneering purpose, — serve to introduce Maltravers 
 to the county, as if under his lordship's own wing, 
 and minister to political uses that went beyond the mere 
 representation of the county. 
 
 Lord Vargrave had, during his stay at Merton Rec- 
 tory, paid several visits to Knaresdean, and held many 
 private conversations with the marquess; the result of 
 these conversations was a close union of schemes and 
 interests between the two noblemen. Dissatisfied with 
 the political conduct of government, Lord Raby was 
 also dissatisfied that, from various party reasons, a noble- 
 man beneath himself in rank, and as he thought in in- 
 fluence, had obtained a preference in a recent vacancy 
 among the Knights of the Garter. And if Vargrave 
 had a talent in the world, it was in discovering the 
 weak points of men whom he sought to gain, and mak- 
 ing the vanities of others conduce to his own ambition. 
 
 The festivities of Knaresdean gave occasion to Lord 
 Raby to unite at his house the more prominent of those 
 
ALICE ; OR, THE MYSTKHIES. 
 
 261 
 
 who thought anrl acted in concert witli Lord Vargravo • 
 and m this secret senate the operations for the follow- 
 ing session were to be seriously discussed md gravely 
 determined. ' 
 
 On tlie day which was to be concluded with the ball 
 at Knaresdean, Lord Vargrave went before the rest of 
 the Merton party; for he was engaged to dine with the 
 marquess. 
 
 On arriving at Knaresdean, Liunley found Lord Sax- 
 ingham and some other politicians, who bad arrived the 
 preceding day, closeted with Lord Raby ; and Vargrave 
 who shone to yet greater advantage in the .liplomacy of 
 party management than in the arena of Parliament 
 brought penetration, energy, and decision to timid and 
 fluctuating councils. Lord Vargrave lingered in the 
 room after the first bell had summoned the other .vests 
 to depart. ^ 
 
 " My dear lord," said he, then, " though no one would 
 be more glad than myself to secure IMaltravers to our 
 side, I very much doubt whether you will succeed in 
 doing so. O'l the one hand, he appears altogether dis- 
 gusted with politics and Parliament; and, on the other 
 hand, I fancy that reports of his cliange of opinions are 
 If not wholly unfounded, very unduly colored. More- 
 over to do him justice, I think that he is not one to be 
 blinded aiid flattered into the pale of a party; and your 
 bird will fly away after you have wasted a bucketful of 
 salt on his tail." 
 
 "Very possibly," said Lord Kaby, laughing; "you 
 know him better rhan I do. But there are maiiy pur- 
 poses to serve in this matter, -purposes too provincial 
 to interest you. In the first place, we shall humble 
 he A^elthorpe interest, merely by showing that we do 
 think of a new m-mbcr; secondly, we shall get up a 
 
262 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 '% 
 
 manifestation of feeling that would be impossible un- 
 less we were provided with a centre of attraction; thirdly, 
 we shall rouse a certain emulation among other county 
 gentlemen, and if Maltravers decline, we shall have 
 many applicants; and fourthly, suppose Maltravers has 
 not changed his opinions, wo shall make liim suspected 
 by the party he really does belong to, and which would 
 ' be somewhat formidable if ho were to head them. In 
 fact, these are mere county tactics, that you can't be 
 expected to understand." 
 
 " I see you are quite right ; meanwhile you will 
 at least have an opportunity (though I say it, who 
 should not say it) to present to the county one of the 
 prettiest young ladies that ever graced the halls of 
 Knaresdean." 
 
 "Ah, Miss Cameron! 1 have heard much of her 
 beauty: you are a lucky fellow, Vargrave! By the bye, 
 are we to say anything of the engagement? " 
 
 "Why, indeed, my dear lord, it is now so publicly 
 known that it would be false delicacy to affect conceal- 
 ment. " 
 
 " Very well ; I understand, " 
 
 "How long I have detained you! A thousand par- 
 dons! — I have but just time to dress. In four or five 
 months I must remember to leave you a longer time for 
 your toilet. " 
 " Me, — how 1 " 
 
 " Oh, the Duke of can't live long; and I always 
 
 observe that when a handsome man has the Garter, he 
 takes a long time pulling up his stockings." 
 " Ha, ha! you are so droll, Vargrave." 
 "Ha, ha! I must be off." 
 
 "The more publicity is given to this arrangement, 
 the more difficult for Evelyn to shy at the leap," mut- 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTEHIES. 
 
 263 
 
 tered Vargrave to himself as he closed the door. " Thus 
 do I make all things useful to myself." 
 
 The dinner-party were assembled in the great draw- 
 ing-room when Maltravers and Cleveland, also invited 
 guests to the banquet, were announced. Lord RaLy 
 received the former with marked eAnpressement ; and the 
 state., marchioness honored him with her most gracious 
 smile. Formal presentations to the rest of the guests 
 were interchanged; and it was not till the circle was 
 fully gone through that Maltravers perceived, seated 
 by himself in a corner, to which he had shrunk on the 
 entrance of Maltravers, a gray-haired, solitary man, -it 
 was Lord Saxingham. The last time they had met was 
 in the death-chamber of Florence; and the old man for- 
 got for the moment the anticipated dukedom and the 
 dreamed-of premiership, and his heart flew back to 
 the grave of his only child. They saluted each other, 
 and shook hands in silence. And Vargrave, whose eye 
 was on them, — Vargrave, whose arts had made that old 
 man childless, felt not a pang of remorse! Living 
 ever in the future, Vargrave almost seemed to have lost 
 his memory. He knew not what regret was. It is a 
 condition of life with men thoroughly worldly that 
 they never look behind. 
 
 The signal was given; in due order the partv were 
 marshalled into the great hall, -a spacious and lofty 
 chamber, which had received its last alteration from the 
 hand of Inigo Jones, though the massive ceiling, with 
 Its antique and grotesque masques, betrayed a much 
 earlier date, and contrasted with the Corinthian pilas- 
 ters that adorned the walls, and supported the music 
 gallery, from which waved the flags of modern warfare 
 and Its mimicries. The Eagle of Napoleon, a token of 
 the services of Lord Raby's brother (a distinguished 
 
-imm^mtt 
 
 264 
 
 ALICE ; Oli, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 1 1 
 
 ! 
 
 cavalry officer in command at Waterloo), in juxtaposi- 
 tion with a much gayer and more glittering banner, em- 
 blematic of the martial fame of Lord liaby himself, as 
 
 Colonel of the B shire volunteers ! 
 
 The music pealed from the gallery; the plate glittered 
 on tlie board ; the ladies wore diamonds, and the gentle- 
 men who liad them wore stars. It was a very tine 
 sight, that banquet! — such as became the festive day of 
 a lord-lieutenant, whose ancestors had now lefied, and 
 now intermarried with, royalty. But there was very 
 little talk, and no merriment. People at the top of the 
 table drank wine with those at the bottom; and gen- 
 tlemen and ladies seated next to each other whispered 
 languidly in monosyllabic commune. On one side Mal- 
 travers was flanked by a Lady Somebody Something, 
 who was rather deaf, and very much frightened for fear 
 he should talk Greek; on the other side he was relieved 
 by Sir John Merton, — very civil, very pompous, and 
 talking, at strictured intervals, about county matters 
 in a measured intonation, savoring of the House-of- 
 Commons jerk at tlie end of the sentence. 
 
 As the dinner advanced to its close, Sir John became 
 a little more diffuse, though his voice sank into a 
 whisper. 
 
 " I fear there will be a split in the Cabinet before 
 Parliament meets." 
 
 "Indeed!" 
 
 " Yes ; Vargrave and the premier cannot pull together 
 very long. Clever man, Vargrave; but he has not 
 enough stake in the country for a leader. " 
 
 " All men have public character to stake ; and if that 
 be good , I suppose no stake can be better 1 " 
 
 "Humph! — yes; very true; but still, when a man 
 has land and money, his opinions, in a country like 
 
AUCn; OH, THR MVSTRRIRS. 
 
 265 
 
 this, very properly carry more weight with thom Tf 
 Vargrave for instance, ha.l Lord Rahy's pro^,oZ" n 
 man conhl ho more fit for a lei.h / .I^^^P^rty. no 
 
 We niirrhf f].«n 1 '"^^y^'^"' . — a prime minister. 
 
 party, _ you understand ? " ^ '^^ ^'' 
 
 " Perfectly. " 
 
 "I*^"^ not a party man, as you may remember- in- 
 
 don'f 1,-w . "'•'"' — "^hat js my maxim; but still I 
 S'„'.'^ '" "^ ™" ■"»-• >'»™ *oir proper 
 " Maltravers, —a glass of wine " said Tnrri v 
 
 nos Mxss Cameron, ,t may make a great difference 1 
 
 f orTu'; •: ""^ 'Z'^'^^}'^''- ^^ '- ^-- -hi ',- 
 
 lortune is , — something immense 1 " 
 
 r I*"'"^ ^ ^^^'^^^ '"' ~ ^ ^^'^'fc know." 
 My brother says that Vargrave is most amiable 
 
 Bomer'"' f' S '''' ^"^^^^'^^' ^l"--fc too hand 
 some for a wife. Don't you think so ? Beauties are all" 
 
 Jo7do:t,;:,!.^";-L^- ^^^- - - calcltei 
 
 am sure you agree with me. I 
 
 have heart, indeed, t,..ui::c::LTirj::zj 
 
 tat rhere ,» ,,„ „,u„h «an,1al in a country neighboZol- 
 
 you thlt"; » "■ '"""^ '"""■ "»'"• «'"■' What do 
 "Miss Cameron is- is very accomplished, I believe 
 And » you think the government canL stand, •• 
 
266 
 
 ALICK ; OR, THE MYSTKRIES. 
 
 
 >j>,' 
 
 'V^v, 
 
 M 
 
 "I don't say that, — very far from it; but I fear 
 there niu.st be a change. However, if the country gen- 
 tlemen hold togetlier, I do not doubt but what wo shall 
 weather the storm. The landed interest, Mr. Mal- 
 travers, is the great stay of this country, — the sheet- 
 anchor, T may say. I suppose Lord Vargravo, who 
 seems, I must say, to have right notions on this head, 
 will invest Miss Cameron's fortune in land. But 
 though one may buy an estate, one can't buy an old 
 family, Mr. Maltravers! — you and I may bo thankful 
 for that. By the Avay, who was j\Iiss Cameron's 
 mother. Lady Vargravo? Something low, I fear: no- 
 body knows." 
 
 " I am not acquainted with Lady Vargravo ; your 
 sister-in-law speaks of her most highly. And the 
 daugiiti.r in herself is a sufficient guarantee for the 
 virtwM3 :■' the mother." 
 
 " \oa; and Vargravo, on one side at least, has him- 
 self niJthing in the way of family to boast of." 
 
 Thb ladies left the hall; the gentlemen re-seated 
 themselves. Lord Eaby made some remark on politics 
 to Sir John Morton, and the whole round of talkers 
 immediately followed their leader. 
 
 " It is a thousand pities, Sir John," said Lord Kaby, 
 " that you have not a colleague more worthy of you. 
 Nelthorpe never attends a committee, does he 1 " 
 
 " I cannot say that he is a very active member ; but 
 he is young, and we must make allowances for him," 
 said Sir John, discreetly; for he had no desire to oust 
 his colleague, — it was agreeable enough to be the effi- 
 cient member. 
 
 "In those times," said Lord Kaby, loftily, "allow- 
 ances are not to be made for systematic neglect of duty. 
 We shall have a stormy session; the Opposition is no 
 
AUCKj OK, THE .MYSTERIES. 
 
 267 
 
 longer to l.o .lespise.l, _ perhaps a di.saolution may be 
 nearer ut hand tliau wc think for: as for Nelthorpo he 
 cannot come in again." * 
 
 " That I am quite sure of," Haid a fat cou-.^ry gentle- 
 man of great weight in the county; "he ,nly wis 
 uhsent on the gr.at Malt questi.m, but .. never an- 
 swered my letter respecting the Canal Company." 
 
 "Xot answered your letter! " said Lord Raby, lifting 
 up his liands and eyes in amaze and horror. " ^^•hat 
 conduct! Ah, Mr. Maltravers, you are the man for 
 
 lib • 
 
 '' Hear ! hear ! " cried the fat squire. 
 
 "Hear! " echoed Vargrave; and the approving sound 
 went round the table. 
 
 Lord Raby rose. "Gentlemen, fill your glasses: a 
 Health to our distinguished neighbor! " 
 
 The company applauded; each in his turn smiled 
 nodded, and drank to Maltravers, who, though taken by 
 surprise, saw at once the course to pursue. He returned 
 thanks simply and shortly; and without pointedly no- 
 ticing the allusion in which Lord Raby had indulged 
 remarked incidentally that he had retired, certainly 
 for some years, perhaps forever, from political life. 
 
 Vargrave smiled significantly at Lord Raby, and has- 
 tened to lead the conversation into party discussion. 
 Wrapped in his proud disdain of what he considered 
 the contests of factions for toys and shadows, Maltravers 
 remained silent; and the party soon broke up, and ad- 
 journed to t! i ball-room. 
 
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268 
 
 ALICE J Oil, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Le plus grand de'faut de la penetration n'est pas de n'aller point 
 jusqu'au but, c'est de le passer.' — La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 Evelyn had looked forward to the ball at Knaresdean 
 with feelings deeper than those which usually inflame 
 the fancy of a girl, proud of her dress, and confident 
 of her beauty. Whether or not she loved Maltravers 
 in the true acceptation of the word love, it is certain 
 that he had acquired a most powerful command ove: 
 her mind and imagination. She felt the warmest 'n- 
 terest in his welfare, the most anxious desire for his 
 esteem, the deepest regret at the thought of their 
 estrangement. At Knaresdean she should meet Mal- 
 travers; in crowds, it is true, — but still she should 
 meet him ; she should see him towering superior above 
 the herd; she should hear him praised; she should 
 mark him, the observed of all. But there was another 
 and a deeper source of joy within her. A letter had 
 been that morning received from Aubrey, in which he 
 had announced his arrival for the next day. The letter, 
 though affectionate, was short. Evelyn had been some 
 months absent; Lady Vargrave was anxious to make 
 arrangements for her return; but it Avas to be at her 
 option whether she would accompany the curate home. 
 Now, besides her delight at seeing once more the dear 
 old man, and hearing from his lips that her mother was 
 
 1 The greatest defect of penetration is not that of not going just 
 up to the point, — it is tlie passing it. 
 
 :| 
 
ALICE; 01?, THE MYSTERIES. 269 
 
 well and happy. Evelyn hailed in his arrival the means 
 o extnca .ng herself from her position with Lord Var- 
 
 n nee' to hat" "f '^ " '"" ^"^ ^"^^^^^ -P-g" 
 nance to that union; lie would confer with Lord V.r- 
 
 grave; and then — and then _ .U.l ih 
 
 more the thought of lltrvo" ' ^ T CVT' 
 
 not M , 3rs who called forth tha^^m^iltl^Z 
 
 ^fow^^:^^t^:;;.-r^---wnmind; 
 
 in Caroline's room. Miss Mevton had already dfs^ 
 missed her woman, aiul was seated by her writin.ih « 
 leaning her cheek thoughtfully on her hand ' ' 
 
 Is It time to go?" said she, looking up. "Well 
 we shall put papa, and the coachman, ami 'the hor^e ' 
 too. in excellent Inimor. How well you look! Reany 
 
 wt 'h'o'";'T;"'"' ^--t'^"I-"' and Caroline gazfd 
 with honest but not unenvious admiration at the 
 fa ry form, so rounded and yet so delicate, and th 
 face that seemed to blush at its own charms 
 
 1 am sure I can return the flattery," said Evelvn 
 laughing bashfully. ^ c^velyn, 
 
 "Oh, as for me, I am v.ll enough in mv M-av 
 
 hope we shall remain good frien.ls, and rule the work 
 with divided empire. Do you not long for the stiTand 
 excitement and ambition of London?! for amb t on is 
 open to us as to men." "oiuon is 
 
 "No indeed," replied Evelyn, smiling; «I could 
 be^ambi^ous, indeed; but it would not bf 'for m^^ 
 
 "A husband, perhaps; well, you will have ample 
 scope for such sympathy. Lord Vargrave - » ^ 
 
 fl\ 
 
 i -. 
 
.-^gia 
 
 270 
 
 ALICE ; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 ' ' f 
 
 !|: 
 
 1 
 
 " Lord Vargrave again! " and Evelyn's smile vanished, 
 and she turned away. 
 
 "Ah," said Caroline, "I should have made Vargrave 
 an excellent wife; pity he does not think so! As it 
 is, I must set up for myself, and become a maitresse 
 femme. So you think I look well to-night? I am glad 
 of it; Lord Doltimore is one who will be guided by 
 what other people say. " 
 
 " You are not serious about Lord Doltimore ] " 
 
 " Most sadly serious." 
 
 "Impossible! you could not speak so if you loved 
 him." 
 
 " Loved him! no! but I intend to marry him." 
 
 Evelyn was revolted, but still incredulous. 
 
 " And you too will marry one whom you do not 
 love! 'Tis our fate — " 
 
 "Never!" 
 
 "We shall see." 
 
 Evelyn's heart was damped, and her spirits fell. 
 
 " Tell me now," said Caroline, pres m the wrung 
 withers, '' do you not think this exci*,v. .o, partial and 
 provincial though it be, —the sense of beauty, the hope 
 of conquest, the consciousness of power,— better than the 
 dull monotony of the Devonshire cottage ? Be honest — " 
 
 "No; no, indeed!" anrwered Evelyn, tearfully and 
 passionately: "one hour with my mother, one smile 
 from her lips, Avere worth it all." 
 
 " And in your visions of marriage, you think, then, of 
 nothing but roses and doves, — love in a cottage! " 
 
 " Love in a home, no matter whether a palace or a 
 cottage," returned Evelyn. 
 
 "Home!" repeated Caroline, bitterly: " home, — 
 home is the English synonym for the French ennui. 
 But I hear papa on the stairs." 
 
 i 
 
alick; or, thk mysteriks. 
 
 271 
 
 A ball-room, - what a scene of commonplace; how 
 hackneyed in novels; how trite in ordinary life! and 
 yet ball-rooms have a character and a sentiment of their 
 own for all tempers and all ages. Something in the 
 lights the crowd, the music, con.luces to stir up many 
 of the thoughts that belong to fancy and romance. It is 
 a melancholy scene to men after a certain age It re- 
 vives many of those lighter and more graceful images 
 connected witli the wandering desires of youth , - shadows 
 that crossed us. and seemed love, but were not, having 
 much of the grace and charm, but none of the passion 
 and the tragedy of , love. So many of our earliest and 
 gentlest recollections are connected with those chalked 
 floors, and that music painfully gay, and those quiet 
 nooks and corners, where the talk that hovers about the 
 heart and does not toucli it has been held. Apart and 
 unsympathizing, ui that austerer wisdom which comes 
 to us after deep passions have been excited, we see 
 form after form cliasing the butterflies that dazzle us no 
 longer among the flowers that have evermore lost their 
 fragrance. 
 
 Somehow or other it is one of the scenes that remind 
 us most forcibly of the loss of youth. We are brought 
 so closely in contact ^^ ith the young and with the short- 
 lived pleasures that once pleased us, and have forfeited 
 all bloom. Happy the man who turns from " the tink- 
 ling cymbal » and "the gallery of pictures." and can 
 think of some watchful eye and some kind heart at 
 home. But those who have no home — and they are a 
 numerous tribe — never feel lonelier hermits or sadder 
 moralists than in such a crowd. 
 
 Maltravers leaned abstractedly against the wall, and 
 some such reflections, perhaps, passed within, as the 
 plumes waved and the diamonds glittered around him 
 
'Jl. * 
 
 t 
 
 f I 
 
 
 1!^:. 
 
 272 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 Ever too proud to be vain, the monstrari digito had ndt 
 flattered even in the commencement of his career. And 
 now he heeded not the eyes that sought his look, nor 
 the admiring murmur of lips anxious to be overheard. 
 AfHuent, well-born, unmarried, and still in the prime 
 of life, — in the small circles of a province, Ernest Mal- 
 travers would in himself have been an object of interest 
 to the diplomacy of mothers and daughters ; and the false 
 glare of reputation necessarily deepened curiosity, and 
 widened the rangs of speculators and observers. 
 
 Suddenly, however, a new object of attention excited 
 new interest, — new whispers ran through the crowd, 
 and these a\^akened Maltravers from his reverie. He 
 looked up, and beheld all eyes fixed upon one form. 
 His own eyes encountered those of Evelyn Cameron, 
 
 It was the first time he had seen this beautiful young 
 person in all the eclat, pomp, and circumstance of her 
 station, as the heiress of the opulent Templeton, — the 
 first time he had seen her the cynosure of crowds, who, 
 had her features been homely, would have admired the 
 charms of her fortune in her face. And now as, radiant 
 with youth, and the flush of excitement on her soft 
 cheek, ohe met his eye, he said to himself, " And could 
 I have wished one so new to the world to have united 
 her lot with a man for whom all that to her is delight 
 has grown wearisome and stale? Could I have been 
 justified in stealing her from the admiration that, at her 
 age and to her sex, has so sweet a flattery ? Or, on the 
 other hand, could I have gone back to her years, and 
 sympathized with feelings that time has taught me to 
 despise? Better as it is." 
 
 Influenced by these thoughts, the greeting of Mal- 
 travers disappointed and saddened Evelyn, she knew not 
 why; it was constrained and grave. 
 
ALICE; OH, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 273 
 
 Docs not Mi.«s Camoron look woll? " whispered 
 Mrs. Merton, on wliose arm the heiress leaned. "You 
 observe what a sensation she creates ? " 
 
 Evelyn overheard, an.l blushed as she stole a glance 
 at Maltravers. There was sometliing mournful in the 
 admiration which spoke in his deep, earnest eyes. 
 
 ^ Everywliere," said lie, calmly, an.l in the same tone, 
 •- everywhere IVIiss Cameron appears, she must out- 
 shine all others. " He turned to Evelyn, and said, with 
 a smile, ' You must learn to inure yourself to admira- 
 tion; a year or two hence, and you will not blush at 
 your own gifts." • 
 
 " And you, too, contribute to spoil me! Fie! " 
 " Are you so easily spoiled ? If I meet you hereafter, 
 you will think my compliments cold to the common 
 language of others." 
 
 " You do not know me, — perhaps you never will." 
 '' I^am contented with the fair pages I have already 
 
 " Where is Lady Raby 1 " a.sked Mrs. Merton. " Oh, 
 I see. Evelyn, my love, we must present ourselves to 
 our hostess." 
 
 The ladies moved on; and when Maltravers next 
 caught a glance of Evelyn, she was with Lady Raby, 
 and Lord Vargrave also was by her side. 
 
 The whispers round him had grown louder. 
 
 "Very lovely indeed, —so young, too! and she i.s 
 really going to be married to Lord Vargrave : so much 
 older than she is, — quite a sacrifice!" 
 
 Scarcely so. He is so agreeable , and still handsome. 
 But are you sure that the thing is settled? " 
 
 " Oh, yes. Lord Raby himself told me so. It will 
 take place very soon." 
 
 18 
 

 274 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 "J- ' 
 
 ') i 
 
 " But do you know who her mother was ? I cannot 
 make out." 
 
 " Nothing particular. You know the late Lord 
 Vargrave was a man of low birth. I believe slie 
 was a widow of his own rank; she lives quite in 
 seclusion." 
 
 " How d' ye do, Mr. Maltravers ? So glad to see you," 
 said the quick, shrill voice of Mrs. Hare. " Beautiful 
 ball : nobody does things like Lord Raby. Don't you 
 dance 1 " 
 
 " No, madam. " 
 
 "Oh, you yoimg gentlemen are so fine nowadays." 
 (Mrs. Hare, laying stress on the word young, thought 
 she had paid a very elegant compliment, and ran on with 
 increased complacency. ) 
 
 " You are going to let Burleigh, I hear, to Lord 
 Doltimore; is it true? No! really now, what stories 
 people do tell! Elegant man, Lord Doltimore! Is it 
 true that Miss Caroline is going to marry his lordship? 
 Great match! No scandal, I hope; you'll excuse vie! 
 Two weddings on the tapis, — quite stirring for our 
 stupid county. Lady Vargrave and Lady Doltimore, 
 two new peeresses. Which do you think is the hand- 
 somer? Miss Merton is the taller, but there is some- 
 thing fierce in her eyes. Don't you think so? By the 
 bye, I wish you joy; you '11 excuse me." 
 
 " Wish me joy , madam ! " 
 
 " Oh, you are so close. Mr. Hare says he shall sup- 
 port you. You will liave all the ladies with you. 
 Well, I declare, Lord Vargrave is going to dance. How 
 old is he , do you think ? " 
 
 Maltravers uttered an audible pshaw, and moved 
 away; but his penance was not over. Lord Vargrave, 
 much as he disliked dancing, still thought it wise to ask 
 
 Sii ': 'i 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 275 
 
 the fair hand of Evelyn; and Evelyn also could not 
 refuse. 
 
 And now, as the crowd gathered round the red ropes, 
 Mai tra vers had to undergo new exclamations at Evelyn's 
 beauty and Vargrave's luck. Impatiently he turned 
 from the spot, with tl>at gnawing sickness of the heart 
 wluch none but tlie jealous know. He longed to depart 
 yet dreaded to do so. It was the last time he should hoc 
 Evelyn perhaps for years, — the last time he should see 
 her as Miss Cameron. 
 
 He passed into another room, deserted by all save four 
 old gentlemen — Cleveland one of them — immersed in 
 whist, and threw himself upon an ottoman, placed in 
 a recess by the oriel window. There, half-concealed by 
 the draperies, he communed and reasoned with himself 
 His heart was sad within him; he never felt before how 
 deeply and how passionately he loved Evelyn, — how 
 firmly that love had fastened upon the very core of his 
 heart. Strange, indeed, it was in a girl so young of 
 whom he had seen but little, — and that little in posi- 
 tions of such quiet and ordinary interest, — to excit' i 
 passion so intense in a man who had gone through stro^i > 
 emotions and stern trials! But all love is unaccount" 
 able. The solitude in which Maltravers had lived, 
 the absence of all other excitement, perliaps had con- 
 tributed largely to fan the flame. And his affections 
 had so long slept; and after long sleep the passions 
 wake with such giant strength! He felt now too well 
 that the last rose of life had bloomed for him, — it was 
 blighted in its birth, but it could never be replaced. 
 Henceforth, indeed, he should be alone, —the hopes of 
 home were gone forever; and the other occupations of 
 mind and soul — literature, pleasure, ambition — were 
 already forsworn at the very age in which by most men 
 
276 
 
 ALICK ; Oi;, TIIK MYSTKRIES, 
 
 they are most indulged. O Youth ! begin not fhy career 
 too soon, and lot one passion sucee(!d in its due order to 
 snothor, so that every season of life may have its appro- 
 priate pursuit and charm! 
 
 The hours waned; still Maltravors stirred not, nor 
 were his meditations disturbed, except by occasional 
 ejaculatifis from the four old gentlemen, as between 
 each deal they moralized over the caprices of the cards. 
 
 At length, close beside him he heard that voice, the 
 lightest sound of which could send the blood rushing 
 through his veins; and from his retreat he saw Caroline 
 and Evelyn, seated close by. 
 
 "I beg pardon," said the former, in a low voice, 
 
 "I beg pardon, Evelyn, for calling you away; but I 
 longed to tell you. The die is cast. Lord Doltimore 
 has proposed, and I have accepted him! Alas, alas! I 
 half wish I could retract! " 
 
 "Dearest Caroline," said the silver voice of Evelyn, 
 "for Heaven's sake, do not thus wantonly resolve on 
 your own unhappiness! You wrong yourself, Caroline! 
 you do, indeed! You are not the vain, ambitious 
 character you affect to be ! A.h ! what is it you require ? 
 Wealth? — are you not my friend? Am not I rich 
 enough for both? Bank? — what can it give you to 
 compensate for the misery of a union without love? 
 Pray forgive me for speaking thus; do not think me 
 presumptuous or romantic, but indeed, indeed, I know 
 from my own heart what yours must undergo ! " 
 Caroline pressed her friend's hand with emotion. 
 "You are a bad comforter, Evelyn: my mother, my 
 father, will preach a very different doctrine. I am 
 foolish, indeed, to be so sad in obtaining the very ob- 
 ject T have sought. Poor Doltimore ! — he little knows 
 the nature, the feelings of her whom he thinks he has 
 
 I - 
 
ALICE; OR, TUK MYSTRRIES. 
 
 277 
 
 marie the happiest of h.r sox - l.o little knows-" 
 Carohnc pause.l. turned pale as .leath, and then went 
 
 lato, we shall hear it togetlier." 
 
 "Nol no! Do not think sol Where I give my hand 
 there shall I give my heart » ^ ' 
 
 ment ft T . r^'"*^' '" "''^•■'»- ^* ^''^ ««n^o mo- 
 
 pr jyrr' ''-'" "^" -^ ^''-^^-^ «i'- 
 
 nnf \r .f ^""' '''"''''" '^'^^ ''^' " I know you will 
 not stay the supper. You will find me in L nex 
 
 ThTli^"^ ^':f ^''"^ *" '^'''^ t'^ ^^^r'l Saxingham!'' 
 The gallan old gentleman then paid a compliment o 
 the young ladies, and walked away. ^ 
 
 " So you too are a deserter from the ball-room! » said 
 Miss Merton to Maltravers as she rose 
 
 aw'ly.'" "'' "^''^ ""'"' ^"' '^^ "^* ^^' '"^ ^"ghten you 
 "Oh, no! I hear the music, -it is the last quadrille 
 
 Dn'ini!'''' ^'" everywhere in search of you," said Lord 
 Doltimore, m an accen. f tender reproach; "come we 
 are almost too late now." ' 
 
 Caroline put her arm into Lord Doltimore's, who 
 hurried her into the ball-room. 
 
 Miss Cameron looked irresolute whether or not to 
 ollow when Maltravers seated himself beside her; and 
 
 painter '^^ 'T? ^"' ^^'"^^^^"^ *^^* ^-P'k« 
 llu f ;i^'^' tenderness, she would have given 
 ing. The room was now deserted , - they were alone. 
 
278 
 
 ALICE ; OK, THE MYSTEUIES. 
 
 i 'I 
 
 hi 
 
 Tho words thut he liad overheard from Evelyn's lips, 
 "Where I shall give my haml, tliere shall I give my 
 heart," Multravers interpreted hut in one sense, — 
 " she loved her betrothed ! " And strange as it may 
 seem, at that thought which put the last seal upon his 
 fate, selfish anguish was less felt than deep compassion. 
 So young, so courted, so tem^jted as she must bo, and 
 with such a protector! — the cold, the unsympathizing, 
 the heartless Vargrave. She too, whose feelings, so 
 warm, ever trembled on her lip and eye. Oh, when 
 she awoke from her dream, and knew whom she had 
 loved, what might be her destiny, — what her danger! 
 
 "Miss Cameron," said Maltravers, 'let me for one 
 moment detain you; I will not trespass long. May I 
 once, and for the last time, assume the austere rights of 
 friendship? I have seen much of life, Miss Cameron, 
 and my experience has been purchased dearly; and, 
 harsh and hermit-like as I may have grown, I have not 
 outlived such feelings as you are well formed to excite. 
 Nay " (and Maltravers smiled sadly), " I am not about 
 to compliment or flatter. I speak not to you as the 
 young to the young; the difference of our years, that 
 takes away sweetness from flattery, leaves still sincerity 
 to friendship. You have inspired me with a deep in- 
 terest, — deeper than I thought that living beauty could 
 ever rouse in me again. It may be that something in 
 the tone of your voice, your manner, — a nameless grace 
 that I cannot define, — reminds me of one whom I knew 
 in youth; one who had not your advantages of educa- 
 tion, wealth, birth, but to whom Nature was more kind 
 than Fortune." 
 
 He paused a moment, and without looking towards 
 Evelyn, thus renewed: — 
 
 "You are entering life under brilliant auspices. 
 
ALICK; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 279 
 
 Ah let ran hofo that tho noonday will koop thn promiso 
 of the dawn! 1 on are snsceptible. imaginative; do 
 not demand too much, or dream too fondly. When vou 
 are wedded do n,.t irnagino that wedded life is oxomp 
 from .ts trials and its cures; if you know yourself Z- 
 oved._ and beloved you must be, -do not ask from 
 the busy and anxious spirit of man all which ro- 
 mance promises and life l,ut rarely yields. And oh." 
 
 ml^" t> '''""^?' r'!' ^" ^^'^"^^-g -d earnest 
 brel hi ' •^r:*'''^. ^^"^ ''' ^^"Suage with almost 
 
 breathless rapidity, "if ever your heart rebels. -if 
 ever it be dissatisfied, -fly the false sentiment as a sin! 
 Ihrown, as from your rank you must be, on a world of 
 a thousand perils, with no guide so constant and so safe 
 as your own innocence, -make not that world too dear 
 
 l!uf , ^r '' ^''''^^' '■'' y°"^ «-" home ever 
 could be onely or unhappy, reflect that to woman tho 
 unhapp fc home :s happier than all exdtement abroad. 
 You will have a thousand suitors hereafter: bcdieve that 
 the asp lurks under the flatterer's tongue, and resolve, 
 come what may. to be contented with your lot. How 
 inany have I known, lovely and pure as you. who have 
 suffered the very affections _ the very beauty of their 
 nature -to destroy them! Listen to me as a warner 
 as a brother, as a pilot who has passed the seas on which 
 your vessel is about to launch. And ever -ever let 
 me know, in whatever hmds your name may reach me. 
 that one who has brought back to me all my faith in 
 human excellence, while the idol of our sex, is the glory 
 of her own. Forgive me this strange impertinence; my 
 heart is full and has overflowed. And now. Mils 
 Cameron -Evelyn Cameron.-this is my last offence, 
 and my last farewell!" ' 
 
 He held out his hand, and involuntarily, unknow- 
 
--*■ 
 
 ■MHUM 
 
 
 280 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 ingly, she clasped it, as if to detain him till she could 
 summon words to reply. Suddenly he heard Lord Var- 
 grave's voice behind ; the spell was broken ; the next 
 moment Evelyn was alone, and the throng swept into 
 the room towards the banquet, and laughter and gay 
 voices were heard; and Lord Vargrave was again l)y 
 Evelyn's side. 
 
ALICE; OK, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 281 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 To you 
 
 This journey is devoted. 
 
 Lover's Progress, Act. iv. Sc. 1. 
 ktte?^7^'''.1 '"J ^'^*'''"''^ ^^'"^"•^'i ^on^-^^Td, the 
 
 " An.l V. ..." ^1T' " S""^^*^ ^^^«^' *« ««k of you." 
 And what is that ? " "^ 
 
 " Let us leave Burleigh to-morrow: I care not at what 
 
 mlLiy'""' '' '"* ''-' ^' "-« ^^^g- if you - 
 
 " Most hospitable host! and why ? » 
 
 "It is torture it is agony to me to breathe the air of 
 Burleigh." cned Maltravers. wildly. "Can you no 
 guess my secret? Have I. then, concealed it so wdl 
 I love I adore Evelyn Cameron, and she is betrothed 
 to — she loves — another ! " 
 
 haf indir^'"*^ T ^'''"'/'^^ ''''^ ^™^^«= ^^lt^^-«r« 
 emot on was so impetuous that it startled and alarmed 
 he old man who had never himself experienced a pas- 
 on. though he had indulged a sentiment. He sought 
 to console and soothe; but after the first burst of agony 
 Maltravers recovered himself, and said gently _ 
 
 that fr T' '''"'" '" '^'' '''^^''' «g«'"= i^ is right 
 tha I should conquer this madness, and conquer i? I 
 
 will! Now you know my weakness, you will indulge 
 
 It. My cure cannot commence until I can no longer 
 
282 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 hi" 
 
 
 I; ' 
 
 AlJ 
 
 ■Z' i 
 
 see from my casements the very roof that shelters the 
 affianced bride of another." 
 
 " Certainly, then, we will set off to-morrow. My poor 
 friend! is it indeed — " 
 
 "Ah, cease," interrupted the proud man; "no com- 
 passion, I implore. Give me but time and silence; 
 they are the only remedies." 
 
 Before noon the next day, Burleigh was once more 
 deserted by its lord. As the carriage drove through the 
 village, Mrs. Elton saw it from her open window. But 
 her patron, too absorbed at that hour, even for benevo- 
 lence , forgot her existence ; and yet so complicated are 
 the webs of fate, that in the breast of that lowly 
 stranger was locked a secret of the most vital moment 
 to Maltravers. 
 
 " Where is he going ? Where is the squire going f " 
 asked Mrs. Elton, anxiously. 
 
 " Dear heart ! " said the cottager, " they do say he be 
 going for a short time to foren parts. But he will be 
 back at Christmas." 
 
 " And at Christmas I may be gone hence forever," 
 muttered the invalid. " But what will that matter to 
 him, — to any one? " 
 
 At the first stage Maltravers and his friend were 
 detained a short time for the want of horses. Lord 
 Kaby's house had been filled with guests on the preced- 
 ing night, and the stables of this little inn, dignified 
 with the sign of the Eaby Arms, and about two miles 
 distant from the great man's place, had been exhausted 
 by numerous claimants returning homeward from Knares- 
 dean. It was a quiet, solitary post-house, and patience, 
 till some jaded horses should return, was the only 
 remedy; the host, assuring the travellers that he ex- 
 pected four horses every moment, invited them within. 
 
ALICE; OR, THK MYSTERIES. 283 
 
 The morning was cold, and the fire not unacceptable to 
 Mr. Cleveland; so they wont into the little parlor 
 Here they found an elderly gentlen.an of very pr pos! 
 sessing appearance, who was waiting for the same obTec 
 He moved courteously from the fireplace as the travel: 
 
 lers entered, and pushed the B ^shiro « f^l.r. 7 » 
 
 towards Cleveland; Cleveland bowed urbaneir^'V 
 cold day. s,r; the autumn begins to show itself." 
 Ifp.1 f!' *7,' f'-'"«"«"'«'"«d the old gentleman; "and 
 
 atmo T . r "'""' '^^'^"6 J"^^ 1"i"^J the genial 
 atmosphere of the south." b«'"'*i 
 
 "Of Italy?" 
 
 "No, of England only. I see by this paner (J nm 
 not much of a politician) that there is a'chale of ^ 
 dissolution of Parliament, and that Mr. Maltravers is 
 likely to come forward for this county. Are you a 
 quainted with him, sir?" ^re you ac 
 
 II A little," said Cleveland, smiling. 
 "He is a man I am much interested in," said the old 
 
 Ciln;:.""^ ' '-'- ''- "^ '' ^— ^ -^^ ^^ 
 
 b.75'"'''^i' .""""i ^'^ ^'^ e°^"g i'^to hi« neighbor- 
 hood ' asked Ceveland, looking more attentively at 
 the stranger and much pleased with a certain simple 
 candor m his countenance and manner. ^ 
 
 ' Yes ; to Merton Rectory. " 
 
 Maltravers, who had been hitherto stationed by the 
 window, turned round. ^ 
 
 "To Merton Rectory?" repeated Cleveland. "You 
 are acquainted witli Mr. Merton, then?" 
 
 "^""^ ^''^'..^^^ ^ ^"""'^ '°"^^ «f ^»« family. How- 
 
 at the Rectory, ~ Miss Cameron " ^ 
 
 Maltravers sighed heavily; and the old gentleman 
 
 
 f 
 

 m ; 
 
 if 
 
 284 
 
 AUCE; OR, tup: mvsteriks. 
 
 .-1*1 
 
 ¥■ ^ 
 
 ft" i 
 
 I* I 
 
 I* |, 
 
 Ft ' 
 
 fef; 
 
 h»^ 
 
 li 
 
 looked at him curiously. " Perhaps, sir, if you know 
 that noiglil)orlioo{l, you may liavo hcpu — " 
 
 " Miss Camoroii! Corlaiiily; it in an honor not easily 
 forgotten." 
 
 The old gentleman looked pleased. 
 
 "The dear child!" said ho, with a hurst of honest 
 affection ; and ho passed his hand over his eyes. Mal- 
 travers drew near to him. 
 
 " You know Miss Cameron 1 You are to bo envied, 
 sir," said ho. 
 
 "I have known her since she was a child; Lady 
 Vargrave is my dearest friend." 
 
 " Lady Vargrave must bo worthy of such a daughter. 
 Only under the light of a sweet disposition and pure 
 heart could that beautiful nature have been trained and 
 reared. " 
 
 Maltravers spoke with enthusiasm, and as if fearful 
 to trust himself more, loft the room. 
 
 " That genthMuan speaks not more warmly than 
 justly," said the old man, with some surprise. "He 
 has a countenance which, if physiognomy bo a true 
 science, declares his praise to be no common compli- 
 ment. May I inquire his name?" 
 
 " Maltravers," replied Cleveland, a little vain of the 
 effect his ox-pupil's name was to produce. 
 
 The curate — for it was ho — started and changed 
 countenance. 
 
 " Maltravers ; but he is not about to leave the county ? " 
 
 " Yes ; for a few months. " 
 
 Hero the host entered. Four horses that had been 
 only fourteen miles had just re-entered the yard. If 
 Mr. Maltravers could spare two to that gentleman, who 
 had, indeed, pre-engaged them? 
 
 " Certainly," said Cleveland; " but be quick." 
 
AU(!K; ok, TIM.: MVaTKl!lK3. 280 
 
 " Extromoly well! " 
 
 ;; And you think lm„ worthy of Mi.s Cameron r' 
 1 hat iH a (iuo8tion for her to answer K„t r „„ m 
 horses are put to. Goo<l-day. sir. Will ^ou lu 
 fair young friend that you have met an o^ 1 I/""'' 
 ^vho wishes hor all hapj.ine and f T f ""'"""" 
 name, say Cleveland?" ' ' ^ '^ '^' '''^ >'"" 1"« 
 
 So saying, IVTr. Cleveland howod and r.. o«f i .i. 
 carriaPH Tinf vi w ""vvi.a, ana re-entered the 
 
 ..- into the .Urpa^^-ttrt:! ■""'/""'' 
 
 If I mistake not," said Mallravor,, « vou are that 
 Mr. Aubrey on whoso virtues T I„v„ „« , . 
 Cameron delight to lingo Vw,", f r" '""'"' ^is. 
 that our acquaintanee i'now ZtSv' "' '"' '"«"' 
 
 As Maltravers spoke thus simnlv ihr .. • ,. • 
 
 countenanee, his ,Le, a meJcS; tlZ wh,„r 
 greatly ooneiliated the good curate^ Ind aTkuh ev 
 gazed upon his noble features and lofty mLnh^ 
 onger wondered at the faseination he hli"°;; j to 
 exercise over the young Evelyn appeared to 
 
 "that"h!.^^' ""' '"•'"'■ ^'- Waltavers," said he 
 
 c£ nrMi'r^a:i:7rrdrd -^ih^^ ™r i 
 
 . penetrating look. « tempi y„„ ° Uote™ ,, r'eT" '"'"' 
 
 Ih' 
 
ff 
 
 I' 
 
 286 
 
 ALICE; OK, THE MYSTEKIKS. 
 
 the wliirl t)f tho wlicols, and the host cutorod to inform 
 him that his own carriago was now ready. 
 
 " Thoro is something in this," thought Auhrey, 
 " which I do not comprehend. His manner, his trem- 
 hling voice, hespoke emotions he struggled to con- 
 ceal. Can Lord Vargravo have gained his point 1 Is 
 Evelyn, indeed, no longer free ? " 
 
 
 r i 
 
ALICE; oi;, Till.: my«tei{ies. 
 
 287 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Certes, c'est u,, grand cm, Icaa, 
 ^uc tiiujourH tnicuM ou fracas 
 
 Vou8faite.sd'u„oou,l'autreHort; 
 ^ CHt le diable (ji.i vous emporte ! i 
 
 VOITIJRE. 
 
 Their »tr™«ti. „„:r;;,:i',t^<,:''::,;j:'',f*''- 
 
 the least sanguine tZl the T ^ ? "'''"' '"'^ *" 
 
 of vCioM' sr ™ """™'' "'"'" *' ""•'""« 
 
 ' So," tjiouglit he, as he reclined in his oarriaie 
 
 durlble f„. ft ""P""""''/' »"» "«" must be the „,„s 
 n^rt' ,,r '"*""*' "'« 8"='"=«'' property and tl,e 
 AH h tT^" P"J"*«-.-wl.«t element for^ar J? 
 
 ambit, "r.r-'""" " "i "'*""'"' 'o"™' '» '"'Ok 4 
 
 aor-thifr«i-r;r7i^^^ 
 
288 
 
 ALICE; OU, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 1 1 ■ ; 
 
 
 1 . * ' 
 
 
 1 f 
 
 t 
 
 i ■ f' ' 
 
 • 
 
 1 r h j 
 
 1 
 
 1 J f ; 
 
 ; 
 
 U' I 
 
 » 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 . 
 
 1/ 
 
 hi 
 
 9: 
 
 Evelyn alarms me! W«!rt' I youni,'(>r, or had T not 
 made my position too snou, I would iiiairy her hy 
 fraud or by force: run off with hor to (^Jriitiiii, and muku 
 Vulcan minister to I'lutus. lint this would never do 
 at ray years, and with my reputation. A pretty story 
 
 for the newspapois, d n them! Well, nothing 
 
 venture, nothing have; I will brave tlie hazard! Mean- 
 while, Doltimore is mine: Caroline will rule him, 
 and I rule her. His vote and his boroughs are some- 
 thing; his money will bo more immediately useful. 
 I must do him the lionor to borrow a few thousands, — 
 Caroline must manage that for me. The fool is miserly, 
 though a spendthrift, and looked black when I deli- 
 cately hinted, the other day, tliat I wanted a friend, — 
 id est, a loan ! — money and friendship, same thing : 
 distinction Avithout a difference!" Thus cogitating, 
 
 Vargrave 
 stopped at 
 
 As he 
 quitted h' 
 
 "How 
 
 id away the minutes till his carriage 
 Morton's door. 
 
 the hall he met Caroline, who had just 
 1 room. 
 
 I am that you have on your bonnet! I 
 long for a walk with you round the lawn. " 
 
 "And I, too, am glad to see you, Lord Vargrave," 
 said Caroline, putting her arm in his. 
 
 " Accept my best congratulations, my own sweet 
 friend," said Vargrave, when they were in the grounds. 
 " You have no idea how happy Doltimore is. He came 
 to Knaresdean yesterday to communicate the news, and 
 his neckcloth was primer than ever. — C'est un bon 
 enfant. " 
 
 "Ah, how can you talk thus? Do you feel no pain 
 at the thought that — that I am another's?" 
 
 " Your heart will be ever mine, — and that is the true 
 fidelity. What else, too, could be done ? As for Lord 
 
ALICE; on, THE MYSTKHIES. 28!) 
 
 Doltimorc, we will go shares in him. Come cheer 
 
 r^'Do Tof; ' 'T "'; "'"^ '^ ^"^^^ "p ^--^ ■ 
 
 us. jJo not fancy I am happy ' '' -> i 
 
 Caroline let fall a few tears; ]>„t, beneath the in- 
 uence of Vargrave's sopl.i.strio. an.I flatteries, she 
 g.a.lually recovered her usual hard and worldly tJne .'f 
 
 " And where is Evelyn ? " asked Vargrave. " Do vou 
 
 o th ball: her head was turned; and when she sat n^xt 
 nic at supper, she not only answered every question I 
 put to her a tort et h trarers, but I fancied 'every mo- 
 ment she was going to burst out crying. Can you tell 
 what was the matter with her?" ^ 
 
 tho' T ^^^'^^'I ^ hear that I was to be married to 
 
 heart ;T 'f 'Z' ^''' ^^^S^^^' ^^^ ^as more 
 
 iieart than you have ! " 
 
 "B..t 8ho never fa„cic, tliat you lovo mo I" askcl 
 o'iSj;"™- "^—a-o -founded., 
 
 " No; she does not suspect our secret." 
 
 "Then I scarcely think your approaching marriage 
 was a sufficient cause for so much distraction " ^ 
 I erhaps she may have overheard some of the im- 
 pertinent whispers about her mother,-' Who was T adv 
 Vargrave? and, ' What Cameron was Lady Vargrave'I 
 first husband ' I overheard a hundred such vuLar 
 questions; and provincial people whisper so loud " 
 
 Ah, that IS a very probable solution of the mystery 
 And, for my part, I am almost as much puzzled as any 
 one else can be to know who Lady Vargrave was. " 
 
 l>id not your uncle tell you ? " 
 
 „n'i"f\-''^'^ "'',"''^ '^' '^^' ^^ "'^ ^^^y elevated birth 
 and station, nothing more; and she herself, with her 
 
 19 
 
""'^awwwiw?*-*'' -^^.T,-,, 
 
 290 
 
 AMOK; ()i;, 'nil'; mysikhiks. 
 
 it' 
 
 \l ' 
 
 qtiiot, Hiiy-noUiinj,' iiiaiiiicr, Hlip.s tliroii},'!! nl! my curclcsH 
 quostionin^'s liko mi w]. SIkms .still ii beautiful croii- 
 tiiro, iiioro regularly liautlsdiue tlimi even lOvelyu; and 
 old Tomplcton Imd ii very wwcu-t tooth at tlio hack of his 
 head, thougli ho never opened hia mouth wide enough 
 to show it." 
 
 " Slio must ever at least have ])eon hlameloss, to judge 
 liy an air which, oven now, is more like that of a child 
 tlian a matron." 
 
 " Yes; slio has not much of the widow bout lior, 
 poor soul! lint her education, except in music, has 
 not boon very carefully attended to; and sho knows 
 about as much of the world as tlio Hisliop of Autun 
 (better known as Trinco Talleyrand) knows of the Biblo. 
 If sho wore not so simple, sho wouhl bo silly; but silli- 
 noss is never simple, — always cunning; however, there 
 is some cunning in her keeping her past Cameronian 
 Chronicles so close. Perhaps I may know more about 
 
 her in a short time, for [ intend going to C , where 
 
 my undo once lived, in order to see if I can revivo, 
 under the rose, — since peers are only contraband oloc- 
 tioneerors, — his old parliamentary influence in that 
 city; and they may tell mo more there than I now 
 know. " 
 
 " Did the late lord marry at C 1" 
 
 "No; in Devonshire. I do not oven know if Mrs. 
 
 Cameron over was at C ." 
 
 " You must be curious to know who the fjither of your 
 intended wife was? " 
 
 "Her father! No; I have no curiosity in that quar- 
 ter. And, to tell you the truth, I am much too busy 
 about the present to be raking into that heap of rubbish 
 we call the past. I fancy that both your good grand- 
 mother and that comely old curate of Brook-Green know 
 
 ■■usil ii 
 
A'-I'H; oit, TIIK MV.STMIUKS. 21)1 
 
 " How could r ImHosfiii.i.l' V 
 
 two hours uLm mwl 1 I "'""• "<! arrived ahoiit 
 sine." *" ""' ''"^ '"'^" '^'"-^'^'l ^^iU' I'^volyu ovor 
 
 l'orha,/l.,drwtnv7Mt •""'''' '"' ''"^" ^"-''^y- 
 return honn, " ^ """'^" '^ "'"« ^^^ ^^volyn [o 
 
 yo'.'^Cwt'" r"'"'"'' ^"'8"™' K'oo-nily- "Hark 
 you, l^aio. no: she niuv refuse luo if .i ■ 
 
 1 am „„t .. ,™ .„ ^ Jfli,„r ,.'„"'; ;;';'"T^ '"" 
 
 mtians or another- «.«,«,,„, ^"'' ^^ "»e 
 
 dark line in my "oof «, « '""' n 'l''' ^"^ '^'^" *''« 
 
 "ly vanity B„f i;i.„ , ? ' ^''^ luunbles lue in 
 
 Iwillrmfher Wn ° ', ""^ ""' ^^'^ ''''^"^ '^'-d. 
 run ner down, whatever winding she takes ' " 
 
 . Vargrave, you terrify me I Keflect • IT \ , • 
 
 in an a^-e when violence _ " ' " ''" "'^^ ^'^« 
 
 away all its^ rtol ^^r/, j ^f /^^-'y. «-i^^ 
 shrewd countenance. ":' IW wV • '" '' "'""^''• 
 favorable to intellect an.l to n^rrj "' '" ^^" '' 
 in romance. I have that fd h ^^ f 7'' """' P"^'"^^^ 
 
 that I tell you vTth /" ^"'^""° ''*"^' '"J^^^" 
 
 you. with a prophet's vo.-ce, that Evelyn 
 

 AMCK ; OR, TIIK MYSTKIUKH. 
 
 hIuiII fiilfil llii< wish of my ilyin^r ,„„;l„. |{„t (,],^ ]„.ii 
 Hv;miii()iiM us liiick." 
 
 On rot\niiiiig Jo (lio Iiouso, Lord Var^'nivo's viil»a 
 Kiivo him a Idttfi- whicli hml anivt'd thai moniiiij.'. It 
 was from Mr. (lU.sfaviiH Douec, and ran thuH: — 
 
 Fi.KBT SruKKT, aotli, 18—. 
 
 My Loni), - It, is witli llu' K«<''itfMt regret (liat I appriHii 
 you, for Si'lf & Co., tlml wi- hIimII not liu able, in the |irfMciit, 
 stale of tho money market, to roninv your lortlsliipV hill for 
 i;u>,iH)(), (hit tlu- l2Htli instant. Ucs|)fcl fully caliiuK y<"ir 
 lor«lHliii)'H attention to Name, 1 have llie honor to i"', for Self i^t 
 Co., my lord, your lord.sbip's most obedient (uid most obli(.,'ed 
 humblo servant, 
 
 OlIMTAVUH DouuK. 
 To tho Hight Hon. fiio Loud VAimiiAVK, &e,, v4e. 
 
 This letter sluirpenod Lord Viirgrave's anxiety and 
 resolve; nay, it soi'mod almost to sharpen his sharp 
 features as he muttered sundry tlenunciations on Messrs. 
 Douco & Co., while arranging his neckcloth at th« 
 glasH. 
 
 ^ i . 
 
ALK.'K; on, TIIK MV.STKHlKs. 
 
 2d:\ 
 
 ('IfAF'TKK VI. 
 
 A"/. Why, pIom.(< your lu„mml,I„ I,.nls|,i„ wo w«r„ .a- . 
 
 it;:;:;-- i.v="^ 
 
 thing soemod cortain.-hor <lcl^^^ ""'^ "!" 
 
 cottage an.l hnr ,„o(,h:,r. ^ ''^"'" *^ "»« 
 
 Ev.,lyn conl.l not sufficiently recover her nnn, 
 to mix with the party helow • ami A composure 
 
 of the second diLer'h ;fi t " f ''" T""'' 
 her excuses to Mrs. Morton ^'"^'' '^"^ ^°^« 
 
 "Dearme!" said that worthy hidv "T , 
 I «.o.8U Mi. Cameron >ooul '^^^0^^ 
 
294 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 'I I 
 
 and there was something hysterical in her spirits; and 
 1 suppose the surprise of your arrival has upset her 
 Caroline my dear, you had better go and see what she 
 would like to have taken up to her room, -a little soup 
 ami the wing of a chicken." 
 
 "^ly dear," said Mr. Merton, rather pompously "I 
 think It would be but a proper respect to Miss Cameron 
 If you yourself accompanied Caroline." 
 
 "I assure you," said the curate, alarmed at the ava- 
 lanche of politeness that threatened poor Evelyn — "I 
 assure you that Miss Cameron would prefer being left 
 alone at present; as you say, Mrs. Merton, her spirits 
 are rather agitated." 
 
 But Mrs. Merton, with a sliding bow, had already 
 quitted the room, and Caroline with her. 
 
 "Come back, Sophy! Cecilia, come back!" said 
 Mr. Merton, settling his Jabot. 
 
 "Oh, dear Evy ! — poor dear Evy ! Evy is ill ! " said 
 bophy; 'I may go to Evy! I must go, papa! " 
 
 "No, my dear, you are too noisy; these children are 
 quite spoiled, Mr. Aubrey." 
 
 The old man looked at them benevolently, and drew 
 them to his knee; and while Cissy stroked his long 
 white hair, and Sophy ran on about dear Evy's pretti- 
 ness and goodness, Lord Vargrave sauntered into the 
 room. 
 
 On seeing the curate, his frank face lighted up with 
 surprise and pleasure; he hastened to him, seized him 
 by both hands, expressed the most heartfelt delight at 
 seeing him, inquired tenderly after Lady Vargrave, and 
 not till he was out of breath, and Mrs. Merton and 
 Caroline returning apprised him of Miss Cameron's 
 indisposition, did his rapture vanish; and as a mo- 
 ment before he was all joy, so now he was all sorrow. 
 
ALICE; OR, THE.MYSTEKIKS. 295 
 
 The dinner passed off dully euouRh- the chnrlm. 
 readn. tted to dessert, made a ifttle reHef to all pa t!: 
 and when they and the two ladies went, Aubrey h n i 
 quickly rose to join Evelyn. ^^rey mmselt 
 
 " Are you going to Miss Cameron? » said Lord \\v 
 Zk\hesr "' ^--bappy I feel at her iHiTe J \ 
 
 bes and ^n T ^ ' P'"'""* ^^'"^ ''^^^ ^'Y best- 
 te t and most anxious regards? I shall be so uneasy 
 till you return. Now Mprfnn >> /o„ *i, j , '^^^^^dby 
 the curate^ " Ipf '.t , ^ ' *^^ '^°°'' ^^^^^^^ on 
 
 laret" Dr;il l/. n'""' '""'^^'^ ^^"^"^ °^ ^^is famous 
 claret Droll od fellow, that, -quite a character! " 
 
 Cameron 1 T, ''^'''7'''' ^^^^ Margrave and Miss 
 Cameron, I believe," said Mr. Merton. " A mere vil- 
 lage priest. I suppose; no talent, no energy.t h ouM 
 not be a curate at that age " 
 
 Mr. Merton shook his head. ^ 
 
 "Yes, I shall, though you have hitherto disdained to 
 exhibit any one of the three orthodox qualificatL: foJ 
 
 "And what are they, my lord ? " 
 " Editing a Greek play, writing a political pamphlet 
 and apostatizing at the proper moment " P^'^P'^^^'' 
 
 ;|Ha! ha! your lordship is severe on us." 
 
 church famo?'' ''f ^ ^'^ ^"^'^ '^^^"g^* "P *« "^^ 
 Jur^te; 7 rZ r^T'""' ^'""^''^y understood. By 
 Jupiter, I should have been a capital bishop ! " ^ 
 
 X'^'z :L?:;;r ""-»«''»'' p'-%-"« 
 
 rising man. 
 
im 
 
 296 
 
 ALICE; OU, THE MYSTEKIES, 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Will nothing please you ? 
 
 What do you tiiink of the Court ? 
 
 The Plain Dealer. 
 
 Ox one subject, Aubrey found no difficulty in ascertain- 
 ing Evelyn s wislies and condition of mind The ex- 
 penment of her visit, so far as Vargrave's hopes were 
 concerzxed, had utterly failed: she could not contemplate 
 the prospect of Ins alliance, and she poured out to the 
 cm-ate frankly and fully, all her desfre to ef^ct a re- 
 ease from her engagement. As it was now settled that 
 h should return with Aubrey to RrooK-Green, it was 
 ndeed necessary to come to the long-delayed under- 
 standing with her betrothed. Yet this was difficu 
 or he had so little pressed-so distantly alludeUo-: 
 their engagement, that it was like a forwardi e L an 
 nde hcacy m Evelyn, to forestall the longed- or yet 
 dreaded explanation. This, however, Aubrey took 
 upon himself; and at this promise Eve yn feH as the 
 slave may feel when the chain is stricken off. 
 
 At breakfast, Mr. Aubrey communicated to the Mer- 
 o^is Evelyn s i^ntention to return with him to Brook- 
 bit l.-; Z b ^''T'':'''- ^^^^ v^^g-- «^-t«'. 
 
 on Ills lip, but said notliing. 
 ^ot so silent was Mr. Merton- — 
 
 sidL^'^rir-'"' '"";/"^ ^'"" ^'- ^"^^^^' j"^t <^on. 
 
 nk of lif T'"" •• ^^'" ''' ^^^^ Cameron's 
 rank of life, her position; so very strange; no ser- 
 vants of her own here but her Joman;'n; carriage 
 
ALICE; OR, TUK MVSTKniKS. 
 
 297 
 
 even! You would not l.avo I>or fnvnl • 
 -such a long journoy ' llTv ' ^^'^''^'^i'^ , 
 
 consent to that, I an^s'ure? " ''''""'' ^'" ^•'*" "^^^^ 
 
 ■such a mode of nerforn^' "''' .'"^'^'''^^ «1^Ject to 
 
 outside places on th. toVotL ^.S^^ ^^^ *^^"^^' ^- 
 
 _ iardon nie," said tlie curate u.il.llv '<i . t 
 «o Ignorant of what i.s due to mJ^r' '* ^ ^"' ""* 
 pose. Lady Vartrrave-.n '"'" "' ^^^ «"1>- 
 
 '^ither.wi/.ei^'r.i^r^hil^rtrtrV^^ 
 
 unable to perform a o.ZvT"^ ''''''''''''' «« ^o be 
 protector than my.sdf " ^ '^ '"" ^^^« ^'^''^ no other 
 
 no:a.^lal^:::^Ix:;:d^r^?^^-^^-I- 
 
 Morton. ; Button musrnot ial ^7:;: ^^^ ^^• 
 to lose Miss Cameron so suddenly Tw t ' '"'""^ 
 
 .-too would stay at least a tek'w^tnV" '^^^'^ "^^'* 
 Ihe curate bowed at the rector'. Pnn,i j- 
 
 " And you see I had set mv heirf nn i v • 
 line's ])ridesmaid " ^ "^^ ^'^'' ^^^^"g Caro- 
 
 There was an awkM'ard nauso • ihn . 
 entered with a sn^all pa'ce if toT''"* °PP°^*""^'y 
 Merton. and that most Tssed of al n " T *° '^''• 
 the country, the letter-bag ^ ^''^'^'^ """§« "' 
 
 •| 
 
298 
 
 ALICE; OR, THK MVSrERIES. 
 
 i:' 
 
 VS. 
 
 i'i 
 
 
 What .s tins?" sauI tl.c roctor. opening his note, 
 w ule Mrs Morton unloeko.l tho hag an.I dispensed th 
 contents. Lett Uurleigh for some months -- a day or 
 tvvo sooner than he had expected - excuse French leave- 
 taking - return Miss Merton's books-^^much obliged- 
 gamekeeper has orders to place the l^urleigh preserves at 
 my disposal. So wo have lost our neighbor' " 
 
 "Did you not know Mr. Maltravers°was gone?" said 
 Caroline. "I heard so from Jenkins last night: ho 
 accompanies Mr. Cleveland to Paris " 
 
 «Ww'"^Vi;f i^'^'- ''"'°"' ^P^"^"8 her eyes. 
 What could take him to Paris?" 
 
 "Pleasure, I suppose," answered Caroline "I'm 
 sure I should rather have wondered what could detain 
 him at Burleigh." 
 
 Vargrave was all this while breaking open seals, and 
 running his eyes over sundry scrawls with the practised 
 rapidity of the man of business. He came to the last 
 letter; his countenance brightened,— 
 
 " Royal invitation, or rather command, to Windsor " 
 he cried. "I am afraid I too must leave you, this 
 very day. " •' ' 
 
 "Bless me!" exclaimed Mrs. Merton; "is that from 
 the king? Do let me see!" 
 
 " Xot exactly from the king; the same thing, though • " 
 and Lord Vargrave, carelessly pushing the gracious com- 
 munication towards the impatient hand and loyal caze 
 of Mrs. Merton, carefully put the other letters in his 
 pocket, and wallced musingly to the window 
 ^ Aubrey seized the opportunity to approach him. 
 My lord, can I speak with you a few moments?" 
 
 roomr> ''''''"^^' ^^'" ^°" '"^' '" "^y ^'"''^^S- 
 
ALICE; oit, THE AIVSTEKIEh. 
 
 299 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 There was never 
 B.AUMO.V. ... F...CH.K.. yy. Ca,taln, Act v. Se. 5. 
 
 while, in ^:Zl It: ""T"^' ^'^'^ ^^^^P° «^ l'i« I'oots. 
 -re fixed H^' i^'l::^ ll^f '" T^ " °^ ^-^'" 
 to the wish of the late lor, v ' ,"^ ''''''='^>' '^^^' 
 Cameron and yo^^iff ^ ; ^J ^t '''T '^ ''''' 
 spirit, add that an enc Jl2 ' n""" "^ " 8^'"«''°«« 
 binding as both tlie S 3 , ""^f ^*^ ^"^^ «« ^- 
 cerned should be wiiL' t " ^^mnness it con- 
 
 fulfil it." ^'""^ ^" P'-^P'^r time and season to 
 
 ani in '^^S t!^r::;jrfT? ''''''' ^^ ^-^. 
 his habitual self-cont o < T?'^' "^^ ^'^ -"^«. lo-n/. 
 
 to do with you- s'are'v v~ / ^""'^ ""* ^^^^^t all this ha^ 
 
 to Miss CaL;on and'm;sd;"T,r"^"""' ^"^^^ 
 say, let me beg you to com! !' '^^''^'''^'^ Y^n have tu 
 " My lord I wi 11 n, ^' '* ""'^ *« tl^*^ point. " 
 
 -yaL/wit^L ;^4^;:ve'f^'^'r^^^ 
 
 to say that, although si ett'rn'.*"-^^^'"^'^^ '"« 
 honor of your lords^i/' al We "T f '' '"'"" ^'>^ 
 ment of the fortune LnlaZdif , '^ '"^ "^^■"'«^- 
 to you, my lord, her Ce 1 f ;\''"'' '^^^''^^^ 
 
 ««^w the most sincorC:^,;:::::^^^ 
 
 i^ord Vargrave started. 
 
300 
 
 AUCK; OR, TirK MVSTKIMKS. 
 
 "Sir," said he, "I know not if T am to tliank you 
 for this information, — tlio announcement of which so 
 strangely coincides with your arrival. IJut allow me 
 to say that there needs no ambassador between Miss 
 Cameron and myself. It is duo, sir, to my station, to 
 my relationship, to my character of guardian, to my long 
 and faithful affection, to all considerations which men 
 of the world understand, which men of feeling sympa- 
 thize with, to receive from Miss Cameron alone the 
 rejection of my suit!" 
 
 " Unquestionably Miss Cameron will grant your lord- 
 ship the interview you have a right to seek; but par- 
 don me, I thought it might save you both much 
 pain if the meeting were prepared by a third person; 
 and on any matter of business, any atonement to your 
 lordship — " 
 
 "Atonement! — what can atone to me?" exclaimed 
 Vargrave, as he walked to and fro the room in great 
 disorder and excitement. " Can you give me back 
 years of hope and expectancy, — -the manhood wasted 
 in a vain dream? Had T not been taught to look to 
 this reward, should I have rejected all occasion — while 
 my youth was not yet all gone, while my heart was not 
 yet all occupied — to form a suitable alliance ? Nay, 
 should I have indulged in a high and stirring career, 
 for which my own fortune is by no means qualified ? 
 Atonement! — atonement! Talk of atonement to boys! 
 Sir, I stand before you a man whose private happiness 
 is blighted, whose public prospects are darkened, life 
 wasted, fortunes ruined, the schemes of an existence 
 built upon one hope, which was lawfully indulged, 
 overthrown ! — and you talk to me of atonement ! " 
 
 Selfish as the nature of this complaint might be, 
 Aubrey was struck with its justice. 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 301 
 
 ' My lord," said he, a littlo embarrassed, " I cannot 
 deny that there is truth in much of what you say 
 Alas! It proves how vain it is for man to calculate on 
 the future, how unhappily your uncle erred in imposinR 
 conditions which the chances of life and the caprices of 
 affection could at any time dissolve ! But this is blame 
 that attaches only to the dead. Can you blame the 
 living? " 
 
 " Sir, r considered myself bound by my uncle's prayer 
 to keep my hand and heart disengaged, that this title — 
 miserable and barren distinction though it be! — might 
 as he so ardently desired, descend to Evelyn. I had a 
 right to expect similar honor upon her side! " 
 
 "Surely, my lord, you, to whom the late lord on his 
 deathbed confided all tlie motives of his conduct and the 
 secret of his life, cannot but be aware that while de- 
 sirous of promoting your worldly welfare, and uniting 
 in one line his rank and his fortune, your uncle still 
 had Evelyn s happiness at heart as his warmest wish • 
 you must know that if that happiness were forfeited by 
 a marriage with you, the marriage became but a sec- 
 ondary consideration. Lord Vargrave's will in itself 
 was a proof of this. He did not impose as an absolute 
 condition, upon Evelyn, her union with yourself- he 
 did not make the forfeiture of her whole wealth the 
 penalty of her rejection of that alliance. By the defi- 
 nite limit of the forfeit, he intimated a distinction be- 
 tween a command and a desire. And surely, when you 
 consider all circumstances, your lordship must think 
 that, what with that forfeit and the estate settled upon 
 the title, your uncle did all that, in a worldly point 
 of view, equity, and even afifection, could exact from 
 mm. 
 
 Vargrave smiled bitterly, but said nothing. 
 
h] 
 
 302 
 
 ALICK; OR, THK MYSTKIilKS. 
 
 
 I 
 
 
 "And if this ho douhtod, I have clearer proof of his 
 intentions. Such was liis confidence in Lady Vargravo 
 that, in tlio letter he addressed to licr bc^fore his death, 
 and which I now submit to your lordaliip, you will 
 observe that ho not only expressly leaves it to Lady 
 Vargrave's discretion to coniniunicate to Evelyn tliat 
 history of which she is at present ignorant, but that 
 ho also clearly dehnes the line of conduct he wislied 
 to be adopted with respect to Evelyn and yourself. 
 Permit me to point out the passage." 
 
 Impatiently Lord Vargravo ran his eye over the letter 
 placed in his hands, till he came to these lines: — 
 
 And if, when she Las arrived at the proper age to form a 
 judgment, Evelyn should decide against Lumley's claims, you 
 know that on no account would I sacrifice her happiness ; all 
 that I require is, that fair play be given to his pretensions,— 
 due indulgence to the scheme I have long had at hejirt. Let 
 her be brought up to consider him her future husband, let her 
 not be prejudiced against him, let her fairly judge for herself, 
 when the time arrives. 
 
 "You see, my lord," said Mr. Aubrey, as he took 
 back the letter, " that this letter bears the same date as 
 your uncle's will. What ho desired has been done. 
 Be just, my lord,— -be just, and exonerate us all from 
 blame. Who can dictate to the affections?" 
 
 "And I am to understand that I have no chance, 
 now or hereafter, of obtaining the affections of Evelyn? 
 Surely, at your age, Mr. Aubrey, you cannot encourage 
 the heated romance common to all girls of Evelyn's age. 
 Persons of our rank do not marry like the Corydon and 
 Phyllis of a pastoral. At my years, I never was fool 
 enough to expect that I should inspire a girl of seven- 
 teen with wliat is called a passionate attachment. But 
 happy marriages are based upon suitable circumstances, 
 
ALICE; 0I{, TIIK MVSTKRIES. 303 
 
 mutual knowlclgo an-l indulgouco. rospoct. estoom 
 Come, sir lot mo hopo yot.-k-t mo hope th. ^^i 
 the same day, I may congratulato you on you p .'.fo- 
 ment and you may congratulate mo upon my marrfago ' 
 Va grave said this with a choorf„l and easy sn, „• 
 and the tone of his voice was that of a man who wi e"i 
 to convey serious moaning in a je.sting accent. 
 
 Mr Aubrey, meek as he was, felt the insult of the 
 hinted bribe, and colored with a resentment no soo^e 
 excited than checked. " Excuse me, my lord I have 
 now .Id all, the rest had better be' lefl to y^ur wLd 
 
 "Be it 80, sir. I will ask you, then, to convov mv 
 reju.t to Evelyn to honor me with a la'st and ^ 
 
 ^ Jargrave flung himself on his chair, and Aubrey left 
 

 304 
 
 ALICE; OK, THE MYSTEUIES. 
 
 Urn 
 
 M 
 
 W' 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Thus airy Strephon tuned his lyre. — Shknstoto. 
 
 In his meeting with Evelyn, Vargrave certainly .jxerted 
 to the utmost all his ability and all his art. He felt 
 that violence, that sarcasm, that selfish complaint would 
 not avail in a man who was not loved, — though they 
 arc often admirable cards in the hands of a man who is. 
 As his own heart was perfectly untouched in the matter, 
 except by rage and disappointment, — feelings which 
 with him never lasted very long, -^ he could play coolly 
 his losing game. His keen and ready intellect taught 
 him that all he could now expect was to bequeath senti- 
 ments of generous compassion and friendly interest; to 
 create a favorable impression, which he might hereafter 
 improve; to reserve, in short, some spot of vantage- 
 ground in the country, from which he was to affect to 
 withdraw all his forces. He had known, in his expe- 
 rience of women, which, whether as an actor or a specta- 
 tor, was large and various, - though not among very 
 delicate and refined natures, -that a lady often takes a 
 fancy U^ a suitor after she has rejected him; that, pre- 
 cisely because she has once rejected, she ultimately 
 accepts him. And even this chance was, in circum- 
 stances so desperate, not to he neglected. He assumed, 
 therefore, the countenance, the postures, and the voice 
 of heart-broken but submissive despair; he affected a 
 nobleness and magnanimity in his grief, which touched 
 Evelyn to the quick, and t(.ok her by surprise. 
 
ALICE; OK, THE MYSTKKIKS. 
 
 305 
 
 ^^ It ,« enough saul ho. in ..d and faltering accents. - 
 
 that iT'n f ,'•'" *", ^""^ *'^^' y«" ^'^^^^^ '"ve mo. 
 that I should fail in rendering you happy: say no more 
 
 Evelyn, ^y no more! Let me spare you, at least, thi 
 pam your generous nature must feel in my anguish • 1 
 resign all pretensions to your han^' : you are free ! May 
 you be happy!" j oo . may 
 
 "Oh. Lord Vargrave! oh. Lumleyl " said Evelyn 
 
 Zr^'ir? "'"r? l' ^ """^^^^^ recoHectlons of eari; 
 years ,f I could but prove in any other way my 
 grateful sense of your merits, your too partial appLTa' 
 tion of me, my rega.a for my lost benefactor, -then 
 
 Znt'l I l^*"^/.««"«d by me, had been more at my 
 d sposcl ; but as i is the day that sees me in possession 
 
 ' , 1'"" '^ P^'*^''^ ""^«'- y^^' disposition, your 
 control. This is but justice, - common justice t; you 
 
 ckLTl! "'""* 't"''" "^ "" ^^P^'^«*l- I h-d no 
 fZb^ry lifmr"""^' '"'*"^"- ^^-*-' -'^^^^ 
 There was much in all this that secretly pleased Var- 
 grave; but it only seemed to redouble his grief. 
 
 "Talk not thus, my ward, my friend, —ah! still mv 
 friend, said he, putting his handkerchief to his eyes 
 1 repme.not: lam more than satisfied. Still let me 
 preserve my privilege of guardian, of adviser, -a privi- 
 iege dearer to me than all the wealth of the Indies ! " 
 
 Lord Vargrave had some faint suspicion that Legard 
 Had created an undue interest in Evelyn's heart; and 
 on this point he delicately and inUirectly sought to sound 
 Her. Her replies convinced him that if Evelyn had con- 
 ceived any prepossession for Legard, there had not been 
 ^nie or opportunity to ripen it into deep attachment. 
 Of Maltravers he had no fear. The habitual self-control 
 
 20 
 
^'Jj 
 
 
 I'- 
 
 ll 
 
 •t 
 
 liti 
 
 306 
 
 ALIOK; f)U, TliK MVsTKlilKS. 
 
 of that reserved personiiKt^ (Iwcivi-il him partly; nud liis 
 low opinion of mankind (h'ctsiv.'d him .still more. For, 
 if thero had been any h)ve h^tweon MaltravfMs and 
 Evelyn, why .should the former not have stood hi.s ground 
 and declared his .suit? Lumley would have "bnlCd" 
 and '*plsh\l" at the thought of any punctilious regard 
 for engagements so easily broken having power either to 
 check passion for beauty, or to restrain self-interest in 
 the chase of an heiress. Ifo had known Alaltravers am- 
 fcitious; and with him, ambition and self-interest meant 
 the same. Thus, by the very finesse of his character, 
 while Vargrave ever, with the worldly, was a keen and 
 almost infallible observer, with natures of a more refined 
 or a higher order, he always missed the mark by over- 
 shooting. Besides, had a suspicion of Maltravers ever 
 cro.ssed him, Caroline's communications would have dis- 
 pelled it. It was more strange that Caroline should have 
 been blind ; nor would she have been so, had she been 
 less absorbed in her own schemes and destinies. All her 
 usual penetration had of late settled in self; and an un- 
 easy feeling — half arising from conscientious reluctance 
 to aid Vargrave's objects, half from jealous irritation at 
 the thought of Vargrave's marrying another — had pre- 
 vented her from seeking any very intimate or confiden- 
 tial communication with Evelyn herself. 
 
 The dreaded conference was over; Evelyn parted from 
 Vargrave with the very feelings he had calculated on 
 excithig: the moment he ceased to be her lover, her old 
 childish regard for him recommenced. She pitied his 
 dejection, she respected his generosity, she was deeply 
 grateful for his forbearance. But still — still she was 
 free; and her heart bounded within her at the thought. 
 
 Meanwhile, Vargrave, after his solemn farewell to 
 Evelyn, retreated again to his own room, where he le- 
 
ALICE ; OK, TMK MVHTKIilES. 
 
 307 
 
 mamnd t. 1 !„„ po.st-l,„r.se« arriv,.,l. Thn„, dcsnomlin. 
 
 t.onw,nd.l be thrown ,nvay upon Mr. an.l Mrs. M.rton- 
 .0 thankee them for their hospitality, with grave an l' 
 
 apart by the window. 
 
 leave you. Carohne, in anticipation of fortune rank and 
 prosperity; that is some comfort. For mv e T Zl 
 only dimcultie, embarrassment, and K^yS,' , 
 future; but I despoml of nothing. - hereafter'you „.; 
 serve me as I have served you. Adieu! I have Zn 
 advismg Carohne not to spoil Doltimore, Mr.s. Merton 
 he .conceited enough already. Good-by ! God bless 
 you all ! Love to your little girls. Let me know if I 
 «tn serve you in any way. Merton. --good-l,y again-" 
 And bus. sentence by sentence, Vargrave talked him elf 
 iivto his carriage. As it drove by the drawing-room win- 
 
 SrW ^'l^'T'Z \^"d-^' "-^-'^l-s where he had 
 left her. He kissed his band; her eyes were fived 
 mournfully on hi3. Hard, wayward, and IrUll as 
 Carohne Merton was Vargrave was yet not worthy o 
 
 could not, -the distinction, perhaps, between the sexes 
 And there still stood Caroline Merton. recalling the hi 
 tones of that mdifferent voice, till she felt her ha'd 
 seued, and turned round to see Lord Doltimore, and 
 Idotd"^'''' ^'"^^^ ^"'""' i^^^^^^ded that he was 
 
11 
 
 f.f P I! 
 
 
 h> 
 
BOOK VI. 
 
 tlvp ffol irpoaotav, Koi> rh <rhv ir^o<r«t'i^ojuai. 
 
 EuRip. : Androm. 258 
 I wiU bring fire to thee, - I reck not of the place. 
 
« 
 
 u 
 
 t r 
 
 ( 
 c 
 
 I 
 f 
 f 
 t 
 
 a 
 I( 
 f( 
 
 af 
 a 
 
 d 
 
 in 
 
BOOK VI. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Tliis ancient oitv, 
 How wanton sits she amidst Nafnre's smiles ! 
 
 Various nations meet, 
 As in the sea, vet not confined in space 
 But streaming freely throng], tl.e spacious streets 
 
 His tecMi he still did grind, 
 And grimly gnash, threatening revenge in vain, 
 
 YOUNO. 
 
 Spenser. 
 
 'l^-^T,- 'f f ^"^'^^'-'^^ place,- that is allowed by all. 
 It IS dehghtful to the young, to the gay, to the idle; to 
 the literary hon, who likes to be pelted ; to the wiser 
 epicure who indulges a more jnstifiahle appetite. It is 
 dehglitful to ladies, who wisli to live at their ease, and 
 buy beautiful caps ; delightful to plalanthropists, who wish 
 for listeners to schemes of colonizing tlu, moon; delight- 
 ful to the haunters of balls, ami ballots, and little thea- 
 tres, and superb cafe's, where men with beards of all sizes 
 and shapes scowl at the English, and involve their intel- 
 lects in the fascinating game of dominoes. For these and 
 for many otliers, Paris is delightful. I say nothing 
 against it. But, for my own part, I would rather live in 
 a garret in London than in a palace in the Chaussfe 
 a Antni. ~ Chantn a son vima-ois <jout. 
 _ "I don't like the str.-ets, in which I cannot walk but 
 in the kennel; I don't like the shops, that contain noth- 
 
312 
 
 ALICK; Oh', TIIK MVSTKIUKR. 
 
 mg except what 's at tlio window; I don't like the houses 
 like prisons, which look upon a courtyard; I don't like 
 the beaux jardins, which grow no i)lai',t.s save a Cupid iix 
 plaster; 1 don't like the wood fires, which demand as 
 mmy petlts soms as tlie women, and which warm no part 
 nf one but one's eyelids ; I don't like the language, with 
 Its strong plirases about notliing, and vibrating like a 
 pendulum between 'rapture' and 'desolation;' I don't 
 like the accent, which ore cannot get without speaking 
 through one's nos(^ ; I don't like the eternal fuss and jab- 
 ber about books without nature, and revolutions without 
 fruit; I have no sympathy with tales that turn on a dead 
 jackass; nor with constitutions that give the ballot to the 
 representatives, and witldiold the sull'rage from the peo- 
 ple ; neither have I much faith in that enthusiasm for tlio 
 beaux arts, which shows its produce in execrable music, 
 detestable pictures, abominable sculpture, and a droll some- 
 thing that I believe the Frcnrh call i'oetry. Dancing 
 and cookery, — these are the arts the French excel in, I 
 grantjt; and excellent things they are; but oh, England! 
 oh, Germany! you need not be jealous of your rival! " 
 
 These are not the author's remarks, — he disowns 
 them; they were Mr. Cleveland's. He was a prejudiced 
 man; Maltravers was more liberal, but then Maltravers 
 did not pretend to be a Avit. 
 
 Maltravers had been several weeks in the city of cities, 
 and now he had his apartn.ents in the gloomy but inter- 
 esting Faubourg St. Germain all to himself. For Cleve- 
 land, having attended eight days at a sale, and having 
 moreover ransacked all the curiosity shops, and sliipped 
 oft" bronzes, and cal)inets, and Genoese silks, and ohjets de 
 vertu enough to have half-furnished Fonthill, had fulfilled 
 his mission and returned to his villa. Before the old 
 gentleman went, he flattered himself that change of air 
 
 I' 
 
ALICK; Oli, TIIK MYSTKIUKS. .^JH 
 
 and scone had aln-a^Iy l,n.„ scrviccal.l., to his friend- 
 and that timo would work a iumiMv, euro upon that 
 commonest of all maladies, an unrequited passion, or an 
 ill-placed caj)rice. 
 
 Maltravers, indeed, in the hal)it of conquering, as well 
 as of concealing emotim, vigorously and earnestly strow 
 to dethrone the image that had usurped his heart. Still 
 vaui of his self-command, and still w<.rshipping his favor- 
 ite virtue of fortitude, and his delusive philosophy of the 
 calm golden mean, he would not weakly indulge the pas- 
 sion, while he had so sternly fled from its ohject. ]}ut 
 yet the image of Evelyn pursued,- it haunted him- it 
 came on him unawares in solitude, in cro^v■ds. That 
 .smile so cheering, yet so soft, that ever had power to 
 chase away the sha.low from his soul; that youthful and 
 luxurious bloom of pure and eloquent thoughts, which 
 was as the blossom of genius l,efore its fruit, bitter as 
 we I as sweet, is born; that rare union of quick feelin- 
 and serene temper, whicli forms the verv ideal of what 
 we dream of in the mistress, and exact from the wife _ 
 all, even more, far more, than the exquisite form and the 
 dehcate graces of the less durable beauty, returned to 
 him, after every struggle with himself; and time only 
 seemed to grave, in deeper if more latent folds of his 
 heart, the ineradicable impression. 
 
 Maltravers renewed his acquauitance with some persons 
 not unfamiliar to the reader. 
 
 Valerie de Ventadour. _ how many recollections of 
 the fairer days of life were connectc with that name' 
 Precisely as she had never reached to ds love, but only 
 excited his fancy (the fancy of twenty-two!), had her 
 image always retained a pleasant and grateful hue; it was 
 blended with no deep sorrow, no stern regret, no dark 
 remorse, no haunting shame. 
 
314 
 
 ALICK ; OK, THK MYSTERIES. 
 
 \t t! 
 
 
 Jhoy met agam Ma.la.no do Ventadour was still 
 bautiiul, and stdl adnured, -perhaps more admired 
 than ever; for to tlie great, fashion and celebrity bring 
 a second and yet more popular youth. But Maltravers 
 li rejoiced to see how gently tim.e had dealt with the ^iJ 
 l^'enchwoman, was yet more pleased to read in her tine 
 feat,ires a more serene and contented e.xpression than they 
 had formerly worn. Valerie de Ventadour had preceded 
 her younger admirer through the " mvstekies of liff • » 
 
 ^nishpf kT™"^ '}: '''^ "^'j'*^'^ '^ b""g' «h« distin- 
 guished between the actual and the visionary, - the 
 
 shadow and the substance; she h 1 acquired content for 
 the present, and looked with quiet hope towards the 
 future. Her character was still spotless; or, rather 
 every year of temptation and trial had given it a fairel 
 ustre. Love, that might have ruined, being once sub- 
 dued, preserved her from all after danger. The first 
 meeting between Maltravers and Valerie was, it is true 
 one of some embarrassment and reserve; not so the sec- 
 ond Ihey did but once, and that slightly, recur to the 
 past; and from that moment, as by a tacit understanding, 
 true friendship between them dated. Neither felt morti- 
 fied to see that an illusion had passed away.- they were 
 «o longer the same in each other's eyes. Both might be 
 improved, and were so; but the Valerie and the Ernest 
 of mples were as things dead and gone ! Perhaps Vale- 
 rie s heartwas even more reconciled to the cure of its soft 
 
 anl tT'"' T^""^^ ^^ the renewal of their acquaint- 
 ance. The mature and experienced reasoner, in whom 
 enthusiasm had undergone its usual change, with the 
 calm brow and commanding aspect of sober manhood, 
 was a being so dilferent from the romantic boy, new to 
 the actual world of civilized toils and pleasures, _ fresh 
 from the adventures of Eastern wanderings, and full of 
 
AUCE; OR, TiiK MVSTEniKs. 3,, 
 
 golden Jrcams of po,.!,,. i,^f„„ ^ ( , , 
 
 or action! She nn.,»,l tl,„ l.nllia, "c^o ' ^ 'T"^'''!' 
 a-vimtion,, even the ,„,i„.„,.„, ^ ,^ ™ ^ "f ''"",""' 
 
 h«, wise, teuc.,'n„,,w; 1^!:'^:!:^::'^^^ 
 
 long absence, b,ing to us suchT^.i^:: '^''^ ' 
 
 And now, as they conversed vvitli all +i.„ 
 dial and guileless WendslnrhoT dij V itieT"' ""■ 
 secret that npon that friend'ship the ^T t ," „?Z '■; 
 
 ?"rhorr„:r,„t!:ir^r^^^^ 
 ^rruji„T'"'°^''^-^«---->^^^^^ 
 
 to be tound m the conscience and the pride t ^ 
 
 Ml curf, instead-:;' Ts' ^ ' L^ h^r "bT"" " 
 how o.„the, _pc,.,,.,p, ,,. „,„ „S^' J, ■ B>, -e- 
 
 — he had grown more pleasin" in Vnl«r,- ' «"foni. 
 
 had «„nei.ed he.- to his^foiul's, d^ZSS: Si^^'' 
 and, by comparison with others, she co„M Lff ' 
 
 0... his good qualities, such a's tyTere!"::::!;: 
 
31G 
 
 ALICE: OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 "< * I HI 
 
 
 good-temper, goorl-naturc, and unliounded indulgence to 
 herself. Husband and wife have so many interests in 
 common tliat, when they have jogged on through the 
 ups and downs of life a sufficient time, tlie leash which 
 at first galled often grows easy and familiar; and unless 
 the temper, or rather the disposition aiid the heart, of 
 either be insufferable, what was once a grievous yoke 
 becomes but a companionable tie. And for the rest, 
 Valerie, now that sentiment and fancy were sobered down, 
 could take pleasure in a thousand things which lier pining 
 affections once, as it were, overlooked and overshot. 
 She could feel grateful for all the advantages her station 
 and wealth procured her; she could cull the roses in her 
 reach, without sighing for the amaranths of Elysinm. 
 ^ If the great have more temptations Ll;r?n those of middle 
 life, and if their senses of enjoyment b;.corae more easily 
 pampered into a sickly apathy, so at least (if they can 
 once outlive satiety) they have many more resources at 
 their command. There is a great deal of justice in the 
 old line, displeasing though it be to those who think of 
 love in a cottage, " 't is best repenting in a coach-and- 
 six ! " If among the Eupatrids, the well-born, there is 
 less love in wedlock, less quiet happiness at home, still 
 they are less chained each to each, — they have more 
 independence, both the woman and the man, — and 
 occupations and the solace without can be so easily ol> 
 tained! Madame Je Ventadour, in retiring from the 
 mere frivolities of society, — from crowded rooms, and 
 the inane talk and hollow smiles of mere acquaintance- 
 sliip, _ became more sensible of the pleasures that her 
 refined and elegant intellect could derive from art an.l 
 talent, and the communion of friendship. She drew 
 around her the most cultivated minds of her time and 
 country. Her abilities, her wit, and her conversational 
 
ALICE; Oli, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 317 
 
 graces enabled h.v not only to mix on equal terms with 
 the mos eminent, but to unialgu.nate and blend tlie varie- 
 ties of talent into harmony. The sanie persons, wlu-n 
 ^et elsewhere, seemed to have lost their charm; un.ler 
 Valerie s roof every one breathed a congenial atmosphere. 
 And music and etters, and all that can refine and em- 
 belhsh civilized life, contributed their resources to this 
 gifted and beautiful woman. And thus she found tliat 
 the mmd has excitement and occupation as well as the 
 heart,- and, unlike the latter, the culture we bestow 
 upon the first ever yields us its return. We talk of edu- 
 cation for the poor,, but we forget how much it is needed 
 by the rich. Valerie was a living instance of the advan- 
 tages to women of knowledge and intellectual resources. 
 By them she had purified her fancy; by tliem she had 
 conquered discontent; by tliem she had grown reconciled 
 to hfe, and to her lot! Wlien the heavy heart weighed 
 down the one scale, it was the mind that restored the 
 hf'ance. 
 
 _ The spells of Madame de Ventadour drew Maltravers 
 into this charmed circle of all that was higliest, purest, 
 and most gifted in the society of Paris. There he did 
 not meet, as were met in the times of the old regime 
 sparkling abb^s intent upon intrigues; or amorous old 
 dowagers, eloquent on Kousseau; or powdered courtiers, 
 uttermg epigrams against kings and religions, - straws 
 that foretold the whirlwind. Paul Courier was right' 
 Frenchmen are Frenchmen still; they are full of fine 
 phrases, and their thoughts smell of the theatre; they 
 mistake foil for diamonds, the grotesque for the natural, 
 the exaggerated for the sublime; but still I say, Paul 
 Courier was right: there is more honesty now in a single 
 salon m Paris than there was in all France in the days 
 of Voltaire! Vast interests and solemn causes are no 
 
 i'l 
 
'! 
 
 318 
 
 I ^1 
 
 t 4 
 
 I'll " " i ¥>■ 
 
 R; I 
 
 ALICE; OIJ, THE MYSTEKIES. 
 
 longer tossed about like slmttlococks on the battledores 
 of empty tongues. In the booleoersement of Eevolu- 
 turns, the French have fallen on tl-.ir feet' 
 
 Meeting men of all parties and Jl classes,' Maltra vers 
 Avas struck ^^•lth the heightened tone of public morals 
 the earnest sincerity of feeling which generally pervaded 
 all, as compared with his first recollections >-f the Pari- 
 «ians. He saw the true elements for nationil wisdom 
 were at work, though he saw also that there was nc 
 country m which their operations would be more liabl, 
 to disorder more slow and irregular in their results. 
 Ihe French are like the Israelites in the Wilderness 
 when, according to a Hebrew tradition, every morning 
 they seemed on the verge of Pisgah, and every evening 
 they wei^e as far from it as ever. But still time rolls on. 
 the pilgrimage draws to its close, and the Canaan must 
 come at last. 
 
 At Valerie's house, Maltravers once more met the De 
 Montaignes. It was a painful meeting, for they thought 
 of Cesarmi Avhen they met. ^ 
 
 It is now time to return to that unhappy man. Cesa- 
 rmi had been removed from England, when Maltravers 
 quitted It after Lady Florence's death; and Maltravers 
 had thought It best to acquaint De Montaigne with all 
 the circumstances that had led to his affliction. The 
 pride and the honor of the high-spirited Frenchman 
 were deeply shocked by the tale of fraud and guilt 
 sof ened as it was; but the sight of the criminal! his 
 awful punishment, merged every other feehng in com- 
 passion. Placed under the care of the most skilful 
 practitioners m Paris, great hopes of Cesarini's recov^ 
 ery had been at first entertained. Nor was it long 
 indeed, before he appeared entirely restored, so far as 
 the external and superficial tokens of sanity could in- 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MVSTERIES. 319 
 
 dicate a cure. Ho to.stificl complete con.sciotisness of 
 he kmdness of his relations, and clear remen.brance of 
 the past; but to the incoherent ravings of delirium 
 an intense melancholy, still more deplorable, succeeded! 
 In tins state, however, he became once more the inmate 
 of his brother-ni-law's house; and though avoiding all 
 society, except that of Teresa, whose affectionate nature 
 never wearied of its cares, he resumed many of his old 
 occupations. Again he appeared to take delight in de- 
 sultory and unprofitable studies, and in .the cultivation 
 of that luxury of solitary men, " the thankless muse " 
 ay shunning all , topics connected with the gloomv 
 c>..>se of his affliction, and talking rather of the sweet 
 recollections of Italy and childhood than of more recent 
 events, his sister was enabled to soothe the dark hour 
 and preserve some kind of influence over tlie ill-fated 
 man One day, however, tliere fell into his hands an 
 i^^nglish newspaper, whicli was full of the praises of Lord 
 Vargrave; and the article, in hu.ding the peer, referred 
 to his services as the commoner, Lumley Ferrers 
 
 This incident slight as it appeared, and perfectly 
 untraceable^ by his relations, produced a visible effect 
 on Cesanm; and three days afterwards he attempted 
 his own life. The failure of the attempt was followed 
 by the fiercest paroxysms. His disease returned in all 
 Its dread force; and it became necessary to place him 
 under yet stricter confinement than he had endured 
 before. Again, about a year from the date now entered 
 upon, he had appeared to recover; and again he was 
 removed to De Montaigne's house. His relations were 
 not aware of the influence which Lord Vargrave's name 
 exercised over Cesarini ; in the melancholy tale com- 
 municated to them by Maltravers, that name had not 
 been mentioned. If Maltravers had at one time enter- 
 
320 
 
 i'l I f 
 
 ALlCi:; OR, Till.: MYSTERIRS. 
 
 tamed some vaguo suspicions ll.at Luml(!y liaj acted n 
 treacherous part witli regard to Florence, those sus 
 picions had lony since died away for want of confirma- 
 tion; nor did lie (nor did therefore the De Montaignes) 
 ••onnect Lord Vargrave with the allliction of Cesarini 
 De Montaigne liimself, therefore, one day at dinner' 
 alhiding to a question of foreign i)olitics which had been 
 debated that morning in the Chamber, and in which ho 
 hunself had taken an active part, happened to refer to 
 a speech of Vargrave's upon the subject, wliich had made 
 some sensation abroad, as well as at home. Teresa asked 
 innocently wlio Lord Vargravowas? And De Montaigne 
 well acquainted with the biography of the principal Eng- 
 lish statesmen, replied that he had commenced his career 
 as Mr. Ferrers, and reminded Teresa that they had once 
 been introduced to him in Paris. Cesarini suddenly 
 rose, and left the room; his absence was not noted, — 
 for his comings and goings were ever strange and fitful 
 Teresa soon afterwards quitted the apartment witli her 
 children; and De Montaigne, w],o was rather fatigued 
 by the exertions and excitement of the morning, stretched 
 himself in his chair to enjoy a short siesta. He was 
 suddenly awakened by a feeling of pain and suffocation 
 — awakened in time to struggle against a strong gripe 
 that had fastened itself at Lis throat. The room was 
 darkened in the growing sha^ies of the evening; and but 
 for the ghttering and savage eyes that were fixed on him 
 he could scarcely discern his assailant. Pie at lenc^th 
 succeeded, however, in freeing himself, and casting the 
 intended assassin on the ground. He shouted for assist- 
 ance; and the lights, liorne by the servants, who rushed 
 into the room, revealeil to him the face of his brother-in- 
 law. Cesarini, though in strong convulsions, still uttered 
 cries and imprecations of revenge; he denounced Da 
 
ALICK; f)Ii, Till.; MysTKIMKS. 321 
 
 c™S:.n,:„;:;;:r'„:;" ,» -n-" "• '"- "-- 
 
 cai.»Wo of „ c wn , " ' T" '"°"'"'"""' "' '" 
 
 -i™ Vor,aiIl,..,, a,„f tl.: Tti, ;,„7%;"*"r 
 his luc d intorvnia ).„ i t rLinainea. Jvocently 
 
 ■o*d; Jti *t a' ,^::vr,''"^""' ?■■" '•■■' 
 
 which no card co,,],! ,!, . * "'' '"™ ""'"1. »>"! 
 
 or alol """''"' '" '='"'=' «' ^'U »"armo,I 
 
 -mc, ,„ i„e... i„ healthtn'/i , ■% : f™ 
 
 w...„ denote eCrt-efri i„":j^'r„j:;*; ;,r7"' 
 
 portions were enhrrrorl i- r "^ "^"' "ow lu.s pro- 
 and spare) 1«1? fl, vLr 7, 'f°"^\r '"» 
 which „.,„ally ,,„cceeded J rbt;:,, fr" 'V'"" 
 mal portion gained bv tl,„ . „ j "'J'' "'" »"'■ 
 
 intcUcctual. ' W n'i hirC °' *'""■?"*" <" "'" 
 in which indeed no, hi '■" • "'''"°'' '"'""'''■ - 
 
 delected hiB SX ^"',""' '=-Y»™-"»J eould have 
 
 B".. then he c'^dl; Jd ttr.rif h iV'S' ^ «■■'• 
 flne^ent he endured, of the inj'ustice he'^nffe:'^^^' 
 
322 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 
 as, shunning all companions, he walked gloomily amidst 
 the grounds that surrounded that House of Woe his 
 unseen guardians beheld him clinching his hands, as at 
 some visionary enemy; or overheard him accuse some 
 phantom of his brain of the torments he endured. 
 
 Though the reader can detect in Lumley Ferrers the 
 cause of the frenzy and the olyect of the imprecation. 
 It was not so with the De Montaignes. nor with the 
 patient's keepers and physicians; for in his delirium 
 he seldom or never gave name to the shadows that he 
 invoked, — not even to that of Florence. It is, indeed 
 no unusual characteristic of madness to shun as by a 
 kind of cunning, all mention of the names of those by 
 whom the madness has been caused. It is as if the 
 unfortunates imagined that the madness might be undis- 
 covered if • the images connected with it were unbetrayed 
 Such, at this time, was the wretched state of the man 
 whose talents had promised a fair and honorable career 
 had it not been the wretched tendency of his mind from 
 boyhood upward, to pamper every unwholesome and un- 
 hallowed feeling as a token of the exuberance of genius 
 De Montaigne, though he touched as lightly as possible 
 upon this dark domestic calamity in his first communica- 
 tions with Maltravers, whose conduct in that melancholy 
 tale of crime and woe had, he conceived, been stamped 
 with generosity and feeling, still betrayed emotions that 
 told how much his peace had been embittered. 
 
 "I seek to console Teresa," said he, turning away his 
 manly head, "and to point out all the blessings yet left 
 to her; but that brother so beloved, from whom so much 
 was so vainly expected! - still ever and ever, though she 
 strives to conceal it from me, this affliction comes back to 
 her, and poisons every thought. Oli, better a thousand 
 times that he had died! When reason, sense, almost the 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. .'{23 
 
 soul are dead, -how dark and fiend-like is tlie life tint 
 remams behmd! And if it should he in the b od 
 Teresa s children — dreadful thought! " 
 
 De Montaigne ceased, thoroughly overcome. 
 Do not, my dear friend, so fearfully exaggerate v<.;„ 
 msfortune, great as it is; Cesarini's diseaf evide n 
 arose from no physical conformation: it was but 1 e 
 cr^s, the development, of a long-contracted Lhdvo 
 
 Stv oi:T-^'f r' T^''^^^ "^"^"^g^^' "^« reasoning^ fac- 
 ulty Ob innately neglected; and yet, too. he may recover. 
 
 The far her memory recedes from the shock he has sus- 
 tained, the better the chance that his mind will re^Ll 
 
 De Montaigne wrung his friend's hand. 
 It IS strange that from you should come sympathy 
 and comfort -you whom he so injured; you wS 
 his folly or his crime drove from your proxd career anS 
 your native soil ! But Providence' will yet, I ^s " 
 deem the evxl of its erring creature, and I kll yet 'live 
 to see you restored to hope and home, a happy husband 
 an honored citi^en; till then, I 'eel as if tl^uTse Hn- 
 gered upon my race." 
 
 "Spfci.k not thus; whatever my destiny, I have re- 
 covered rom that wound. And still, De Mont^^e, I 
 find m hfe that suffering succeeds to suffering, and d s- 
 appomtment to disappointment, as wave to wave To 
 endure IS the only philosophy; to believe that we" shall 
 live again ma brighter planet, is the only hope that n, 
 reason should accept from our desires " 
 
■h .^r 
 
 fl.F 
 
 324 
 
 ALICE; OK, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 
 *P 
 
 [i .' 
 
 i • , i| 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Monstra evenerunt mihi, 
 Introit in judes ater alienus cania, 
 Angnia per iinpluvium Uecidit de'tegulis 
 Gallina ceeiuit ! ^ 
 
 Tebent. 
 
 With his constitutional strength of mind, and conform- 
 ably wv. Ins acquired theories, Maltravers continued 
 to sruggle against the latrst and strongest passion of 
 his ,fe It might be seen in the paleness of his brow 
 and that nameless expression of suffering whica betrays 
 itsel ,n the hues about tlie mouth, that his healtli was 
 affected by uie conflict within him; and many a sudden 
 fit of absence and abstraction, many an impatient sigh, 
 followed by a forced and unnatural gayety, told the 
 observant Val.-ie that he was the prey o'f /'sortw he 
 was too proud to disclose. He compelled himself, how- 
 ever, to take or to affect, an interest in the singular 
 phenomena of the social state around him, -phenomena 
 that, in a happier or serener mood, would indeed have 
 suggested no ordinary food for conjecture and meditation. 
 Ihe state of visible transition is the state of nearly all 
 the enlightened communities in Europe. liut nowhere 
 IS It so pronounced as in that country which may be 
 called the heart of European civilization. There all 
 to which the spirit of society attaches itself appears 
 
 1 Prodigies have occurred : a strange l.lack doc came into tl.„ 
 W; a snake glided iron. tl. tiles, through tL' Z tVtt ht 
 
ALICE; OH, THE MYSTERIES. 325 
 
 broken, vaguo, and half devolonr.l ti 
 
 reluctant admiration on the va rious Crs "hth "^ """' 
 cessors of Voltaire irul T?m, , '^" *^*^ ^"•^' 
 
 He, ,od to call thn nft T' ^'''' r>'-^^^^^^<^d, and are 
 
 to be original. Maltravers was sht kod te'th ' 
 
 a giant on the limbs of a cUvJf ,•„ ^ 
 
 jumbled together: part f i li^ 'C^^fS'^V^^f ," 
 a hideous distortion ! ^^^^^^i^h - the whole 
 
 thel? ""'T ^' ^''''^^<' «^id he to De Montaigne " that 
 these works are admired and extolled • bnf 1? .1 
 can be vindicated by the example of Shi ' ^"^ 
 
 Goethe, or even of Byron who lU^^'^T"'" ""'^ 
 ;-^dramatic conceptionI^::;;h:X::;^ Tt^^ 
 
 •'I allow fl, /PJ''''^'.''^*o me utterly inconceivable." 
 te-S-e, bal thoy ar« b„t the ,vi,„lf„ll3 of tecs ll,„t 
 
 4 
 
326 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 III 
 
 W, 
 
 my bear rich fruit in due season; meanwhile, any new 
 school IS better than eternal imitations of the oM Z 
 for cntzcal vindications of the .vorks themselves, the 
 age that produces the phenomena is never the al to 
 classify and analyze them. We ha.e had a deluge and 
 now new creat,ires spring from the new soil " ^ ' 
 
 mud 7;^f "V"""^r '^'^y ^«'"'^ forth from slime and 
 mud -fetid and crawling, unformed and monstrous I 
 grant e.t, ,,, .^ ^,^^ new schoofas i i 
 
 Which has known Corneille^hould" vt s t?fth 
 
 H , 1 ""'^^ ^^''' "^^^ty «»d drivelling abor- 
 
 ons a 1 having followers and adulators, your VnZ 
 
 ZtT Z *?' '^'' *'^' ''''' h-« improved won- 
 derfu ly on the day when they gave laws and modelsTo 
 the literature of Europe; they can bear to h a Zl 
 
 C^riV:S^r^"^^""^^-^^^^^-'>^ch 
 
 Voltaire is out of fashion in France, but Rousseau 
 still maintains his influence, an^l boasts his imitators 
 Rousseau was the worse man of die two; perhaps 1 ew'; 
 also the more dangerous writer R„f L. i ! 
 
 nation; and the danger of his iin«f.n / • . 
 construct as well as to 1 ; ^f "^ '^^^ht to 
 
 -idweiibemL^:bifr^ii:tj^:2or^ts 
 c::tie:i:t '"' '"' ^^^ '-- ^-•^ delusive rief- 
 
 castles in the air - reared above the waste where cities 
 i^avo been. Rather than leave even a burial -grou^ to 
 solitude, we populate it with ghosts ^ 
 
ALICE; OK, THE MYSTKKIES. 
 
 327 
 
 erant of r IT.' ''^^'^"'"'^ ^^^^'"« ^^^^ tol- 
 
 erant of the present defects, and more hopeful of the 
 
 future results. He saw in one respect that that hter 
 ture earned with it its own ultimate redemption 
 
 Its general characteristic- contradistinguished from 
 he 1 terature of the old French classic school -k. to 
 
 feeLngs ,nto action, and let the witlun have its record 
 and history as well as the without. In all this o^r 
 contemplative analyst began to allow that the French 
 were not far wrong when they contended that Shake- 
 speare made the fountain of their inspiration, -a W 
 tain which the majority of our later English fictionists 
 have neglected. It is not by a story woven of irC ! 
 
 and ZltT'T^'r^ '^ delineations of the externals 
 and surface of character, humorous phraseologv. and 
 every-day ethics,that ficion achieves its grandestVnds. 
 
 In the French literature, thus characterized, there is 
 much false morality, much depraved sentir . ,nt, and much 
 hollow rant. But still it carries within it the germ of 
 an excellence which, sooner or later, must, in the pro- 
 gress of national genius, arrive at its full development 
 
 Meanwhile it is a consolation to know that nothing 
 really immoral is ever permanently popular, or ever 
 therefore, long deleterious; what is dangerous in a wo-k 
 
 real "T T"^ "'"f- ^" ' ^''' ^^^^^^ ^^ ^^^ "o^v 
 read \V erther ." and instruct our hearts by its exposition 
 
 oi weakness and passion, -our taste by its exquisite 
 and unrivalled simplicity of construction and detail _ 
 without any fear that we shall shoot ourselves in top- 
 boots! We can feel ourselves elevated by the noble 
 sentiments of " The Robbers," and our penetration sharp- 
 ened as to the wholesale immorality of conventional 
 
r- 
 
 1^ jfl 
 
 328 
 
 AMC'i:; OK, THE MVSTKRIKS, 
 
 cant and hypocrisy, without any danger of turning ban- 
 
 htti and becoming cut-throats from the love of virtue 
 
 1 rovidence. that h.s made the genius of the few in all 
 
 lulLT 'T'rV^'' g"^'^^ ^"^1 Propliet of the many, 
 and appointed literature as the sublime agent of civiliza- 
 •on. of opinion and of law, has endowed the elements 
 It employs with a divine power of self-purification. 
 Ihe stream settles of itself by rest and time; the im- 
 pure parucles fly off, or .re neutralized by the healthful. 
 
 inmoral ' T, ^ "" '^' ''''^' ''^ « master-spirit 
 immoral. Ihere does not exist in the literature of the 
 
 word one ^>o^;.^„, book that is immoral two centuries 
 after ,t is produced. For, in the heart of nations, the 
 
 stafe'^F?' "t-"'^' Maltravers turned to the political 
 
 state of France his curious and thouglitful eye. He was 
 
 struck by the resemblance which this nation _ so civi^ 
 
 hzed, so thorouglily European - bears in one respect to 
 
 he despotisms of the East: the convulsions of the capi- 
 
 tel d cide the fate of the country; Paris is the tyrant'of 
 
 prance. He saw m this inflammable concentration of 
 
 power which must ever be pregnant with great evils. 
 
 on of the causes why the revolutions of that : owerfu 
 
 tory, _ why, hke Cardinal Fleury, system after system 
 and government after government, ^ ' 
 
 " floruit sine fructu, 
 Defloruit sine luctu."i 
 
 ver^'^lT'' 'T'^'i '' '' ' '^"^«"''" ^"«tance of per- 
 
 iZCZ7:Z ^'' """"'^"^ ''' experience. 'he 
 trench should still persist in perpetuating this political 
 
 ' ^^^"^bed without fruit, and was destroyed without regret. 
 
ALICE; OR, THR MYSTKRIES. 309 
 
 ace™, to We the' .".tetk^.r ':;!: ^ tl'te 
 head thus come .pople.y „„., „,„„„,f By 1 j.i 
 
 withstand a ,1"^ NoX riXTI^T^ '° 
 po^verful as in V.n,; the pol'i.i:: S:;.;^ Pan; " 
 
 his ow/ „e, and Tit: tT EL'lt t"*^ 
 
 govern their own affrr.l °'° """ P'"""™' 
 
 even to roads aid S- ^It Ts WUo f '"T*'"^' 
 
 rr ;^or c'r;:L:n;rn:th^^^^^ 
 
 slow, and constructs ere it destroys nof f "^"^'^'^ ^ 
 
 and"";:re.^:j"S:r:."^ ^rtr'r" - -t. 
 litdT^^h" rt:;i;„.f -^^^^ 
 «^e n or .eedo™: .-irpe^.trd'rtrrHn;: 
 
 wth Robespierre, and achieved so mnch „lory ",« 
 
 igarchy equal to this? What a strange 
 
 in- 
 
330 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTFRTES. 
 
 In 
 
 h 
 
 III 
 
 !> 
 
 m 
 I 
 
 P i' 
 
 a people! What an anomaly in political architecture 
 to build an inverted pyramid! Where was the s! eL: 
 valveofgovernments, -where the natural even s of et 
 ctement in a population so inflammable? The peol 
 Itself were left a mob: no stake in the state . no fcS 
 in Its affairs no legislative interest in its security." 
 
 On the other hand, it was singular to see how -the 
 aristocracy of birth broken down - the aristoacy o 
 letters had risen, A peerage, half composed ofjour- 
 nahsts. phi osophers. and authors! This was the beau 
 Mot Algernon Sydney's Aristocratic Republicro 
 he Helve lan visions of what ought to be the dispensa- 
 tion of public distinctions: yet was it, after ^l.Tdt 
 
 ZT7::Z'''- f^rr^«-^ Bidliterttu^ 
 iose? Was the priesthood of genius made more sacred 
 and more pure by these worldly decorations and hollow 
 titles or was aristocracy itself thus rendered a more 
 disinterested, a more powerful, or more sagacious el ! 
 
 opnon/ The""'^'T'°" ^' ''''''' ^^^ '^«-^^- f 
 
 couM nl fil T "" '"''\ "'' ^'^^''^y *« b« -'^^^ered. 
 could not fail to arouse the speculation and curiositv 
 
 of a man who had been familiar with the closet 2 
 
 he forum; and in proportion as he found Z Tn- 
 
 erest excited in these problems to be solved by a 
 
 reign nation, did the thoughtful Englishman ftrthe 
 
 Zi'nTlt '"'^ *'^ citizen'tothefatherlan 
 begin to stir once more earnestly and vividly within 
 
 saiZr'JT'" ^"^^^'^"«"y. are passing like us " 
 s^dDe Montaigne one day to Maltravers. "through 'a 
 
 Ind t '"''''''^: ^"'^ ^'''' ^— l^ft the ideal! 
 ana . ou are carrying your cargo of experience over to 
 
 1 Has not all this proved prophetic 1 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTKIilES. 331 
 
 the practical. When you reach that haven, you will 
 have completed the developnu.nt of your forced:" 
 „ ^0" "Hstake mo; I am but a spectator." 
 Yes; but you desire to go behind tlie scenes. And 
 
 t:b?a::to?"^^^^ '--'^^^^ ^^^"^ "- ^— ^'" ^-^^^ 
 
 With Madame de Ventadour and the I)e Montaignes 
 Maltravers passed the chief part of his tin>e. TlT; 
 knew how to appreciate his nobler, and to love his 
 
 fnTll"; f ;'"'r '''' ^'"^^^"^-^^ '''^y "-t-> i" a warm 
 interest for his future fate; they combated his philoso 
 
 Phy of inaction; and they felt that it was becau e I 
 
 was not happy that he was not wise. Experie^ .' 
 
 were "hHlfl ''" iT" '^' '^^^^ *^ ^''^^- "^ ^-"^t 
 were cl , ed and dormant. As affection to those who 
 
 are unskilled in all things, so is affection to those w o 
 despair of all things. The mind of Maltravers ws a 
 world without a sun! 
 
'ii 
 
 332 
 
 ALICE; Ok, THK MYSTKRIES. 
 
 ' it 
 
 f-. 
 
 CHAPTER HI. 
 
 Coelebs quid agam ? i — Horat. 
 In a room at Fenton's Hotel sat Lord Vargrave and 
 
 ml^TS'r '-''-''' ^--ioinusatChrist- 
 
 T r//rr ""^ ^''"^' '^ '*' ""'^ ^^^'^'•^ t'"^» I hope that 
 
 irinf . '''' '"?f '^ '"'^""^ 1^"'^^''= '"""^^•^ ^^l>ich at 
 presentj.arass and absorb me even more than my private 
 
 " You have managed to obtain terms with Mr. Douce 
 and to delay the repayment of your debt to him ? " 
 
 Yes I hope so, till I touch Miss Cameron's in- 
 
 el^hLI'" ' '^ '""' ' *^"^^' ^^ "^^ «'- «he is 
 
 1^ You mean the forfeit money of £30,000? " 
 ' Not I , — I niean what I said ! " 
 
 hanT?'" ^''' ''"^^^ '"''°"'' '^'' ''^" '"^"^ '^'^"^Pt y«"'' 
 "With your aid I do imagine it! Hear me Yo„ 
 must take Evelyn with you to^Paris. I have no doubt 
 but that she will be delighted to accompany you; nay 
 I have paved the way so far. For of coursef a' a irie fd 
 
 tamed a correspondence with Lady Vargrave. She iu- 
 ^ What shall I do, a bachelor ? 
 
AUni.;; OH, TIIK M VSTKIJfKS. .^33 
 
 form, mo thaf Kvlyn ].,. 1.,.,, ,„,,.,„ ,,,i i,. ,,.,,, j,.^,.,j . 
 
 lmtshofo.rsl!rnolc-(ir..n is, lull fo,., ....,.,, ' 
 
 in oply to «ay th.t tho m„r. ,ny wani s,nv „ | : 
 worM pr..,r to 1... a.cossion. when of ago. to h J 
 
 my at xmelo's w,.sh.s wi.I. ,.,.sp..t to l.or ducat . 
 and so forth. I a.hlc.l, that as you mTo goin. to ]>a.. ' 
 and as you loved her so nmoh. thoro couhr.lt , J 
 
 mt^fZirr''^ '■' '-' ^"^'■'"'^" ""^'^ ^'^'^ -'- 1'' 
 
 this letter arnvod this morning; she will consent to 
 such an arrangon.,.nt, should you p.opo.o it." 
 
 iectAr "'•'"•' "''n ""'^^ *^ ^""^-^f i" th- pro- 
 ject? At Pans you wU he sure of rivals, and-" ^ 
 
 well WW '"'' ""'";"'^^"'' T^^>rd Vargrave. " I know very 
 '''"/^'"^ you would say; I also know all tho danger T 
 
 my .nfluence; not so abroad. -not so ;Ller7ou o 
 
 CMlly in tho seclusion and shelter .,f IJrook-Green I 
 have no scope for any of those means which I haH 'bo 
 compelled to resort to, in failure of all else » 
 
 shudlf "' '"" "*"^' ' " '''^ ^'"■"^"-' -ith a slight 
 
 T In f r ^"'''' ""^^^ ^ '''^''''^ y'^- I^ut this, at least 
 lean ell you, -that Miss Cameron's fortune I mJ; 
 and will have. I am a desperate man; and I can Z 
 a desperate game, if need be," ^ ^ 
 
 ;; And do you think that / will aid , - will abet ? » 
 Hush, not so loud! Yes. Caroline, you will and 
 you must aid and abet me in any project I may form » 
 
^1 
 
 w^ 
 
 Jli 
 
 334 
 
 ALICE; OR, TIIK MYSTERIES. 
 
 " Must ! Lord Vargravc ? " 
 
 "Ay!" said Lumlny, with a smilo, and sinkinc his 
 vo,ce m to a whispo, ._■< ay! ,ou ar. in ., ,oZ'f >' 
 ^^ Iraitor! you cannot daro! you cannot mean-" 
 
 that ovr^Vf ^'"^ "'"'" *'•'" ''' ''''"'■"^^ y'^" °f the ties 
 t f fiTf T" "f'-"--^'-'' ought to render us 
 «io firmest and most confidential of friends. Come 
 Carolane recollect all the benefits „ .st not lie on one 
 side. I have obtained for you rank and wealth : I have 
 procured you a husband. - you must help me to" 
 
 ^^Caroline sank back and covered her face with her 
 
 "I allow," continued Vargrave, coldly,-" I allow 
 that your beauty and talent were sufficient of them- 
 selves to charm a wiser man than Doltimore; but had I 
 not suppressed jealousy, sacrificed love; had I dropped 
 a hint to your hege lord; nay, had T not fed his lapdog 
 vanity by all the cream and sugar of flattering falsehoods 
 — you would be Caroline Merton still ' " ' 
 
 "Oh, would that I were! Oh, that I were anything 
 but yo,r tool your victim! Fool that I was ! Wretch 
 that I am! I am rightly punished ! " 
 
 "Forgive me,- forgive me, dearest," said Vprgrave 
 soothingly. "I was to blame, forgive ;e; but yof ^r -' 
 tated, you maddened mo, by your seeming indifference 
 to my prosperity, my fate. I tell you agaL and Zr 
 
 1 love! and if you will allow me, -if you will rise 
 
 prejudice of convention and education,- the only woman 
 I could ever respect as well as love. Oh, hereafter 
 
 am bornToT Til '^'' ^^^^'^ '' "'"^^ I feel that I 
 am born to climb, let me think that to your generositv, 
 
 til 
 
 
ALICK; ok, TffE MYSTKRIes. 335 
 
 your affoction, your zeal. I owed tl.o ascent Af n. . 
 I am on the procipice; without you Tnd ffTP 
 ever. Mv own fn,.fi,„ • ^ ^ ^ ^^11 for- 
 
 duo to me if Tvr ; r '"'"^ "" '"'^'^-^>''' ^-^-t 
 
 «he has ar ve iT tir"'""r *', "j""' "^^ '^•"*' ^'-^ 
 
 which r may eitU V T '^' ''/^"""^ ««»'«'"««. in 
 
 that whieh^ ::!!;; r/':;,^'^^^^"""'-^- 
 
 to me i« wealth- i , i ' '*'"^' ^'''^ necessary 
 
 advancement i' th , I? '^"! ""\'^"^''' *° "^-'"tain my 
 ent, in the other, to redeem niy fall." ^ 
 
 c» you ...,.pt:;\,,„r;;::rre : „r2 r*-- 
 
 «nd>»„.b,es «„t>n„ ,oo„ Z;!; ;t™; Lf ' 
 
 claim from her recollertinn ? r ^ hollow 
 
 «l"l<i'» romance? And even ,vore ^,2-^/ 
 wre it possible (hat »irls were 1, . ^°'"^''- 
 
 that husband, haC no CLren ^ i^ tT'/oM 
 Vargrave to be a mendicant „p„„ relne , t Wt; 
 
 a degradation I t^noTsL; t7 T id T Sll h"' '? 
 
 raith.rs it^cr ^^ ': -' ™' "^* '- 
 
 o^ . I '^ the advantages it bestow« 
 
 «pect, honor, position; and these T get as t e\:T''; 
 of the great heiress C!K«, u r ^ ^'^'^ ''^ the husband 
 
 ant? Vn r ^^''"^^ f set them as her denend- 
 antf jSfo; for more than «i^ r , . "epena 
 
 SIX 
 
 years I have built my 
 
i'' J? 
 
 r » 
 
 •?H, 
 
 336 
 
 it 
 
 ¥'\ 
 
 i 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 schemes and shaped my conduct according to one as- 
 sured and definite object; and that object I shall not 
 now, in the eleventh hour, let slip from my hands 
 Enough of this: you will pass Brook-Green in return- 
 ing from Cornwall; you will take Evelyn with you to 
 Paris, — leave the rest to me. Fear no folly, no vio- 
 lence, from my plans, whatever they may be: I work in 
 the dark. Nor do I despair that Evelyn will love, that 
 Evelyn will voluntarily accept me yet. My disposition 
 IS sanguine; I look to the bright side of things. Do 
 the same ! " 
 
 Here their conference was interrupted by Lord Dolti- 
 more, who lounged carelessly into the room with his 
 hat on one side. " Ah, Vargrave, how are you ? You 
 will not forget the letters of introduction ? Where are 
 you going, Caroline ? " 
 
 "Only to my own room, to put on my bonnet; the 
 carriage will be here in a few minutes." And Caroline 
 escaped. 
 
 " So you go to Cornwall to-morrow, Doltiraorel " 
 "Yes; cursed bore! but Lady Elizabeth insists on 
 
 seeing us, and I don't object to a week's good shooting. 
 
 The old lady, too, has something to leave, and Caroline 
 
 had no dowry, — not that I care for it; but still marriage 
 
 is expensive." 
 
 " By the bye, you will want the five thousand pounds 
 you lent me ? " 
 
 " Why, whenever it is convenient. " 
 
 " Say no more, — it shall be seen to. Doltimore, T 
 am very anxious that Lady Doltimore's debut at Paks 
 should be brilliant; everything depends on falling into 
 the right set. For myself, I don't care about fashion, 
 
 and never did; but if I were married, and an 
 like you, it might be different." 
 
 idle man 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTIMIIES. 
 
 337 
 
 " Oh, you will be very useful to us when we return to 
 London. Meanwhile, you know, you have my proxy 
 in the Lords. I daresay there will be some sharp work 
 the first week or two after the recess." 
 
 "Very likely; and depend on one thing, my dear 
 Doitimore, that when I am in the Cabinet, a certain 
 triend of mine shall be an earl. Adieu." 
 
 Good-by, my dear Vargrave, good-bv ; and, I say, — 
 I say, don't distress yourself about tluiL trifle. A few 
 months hence it will suit me just as well." 
 
 "Thanks; I will just look into my accounts, and 
 use you without ceremony. Well, I daresay we shall 
 meet at Paris. Oh , I forgot ! - 1 observe that you liave 
 renewed your intimacy with Legard. Now, he is a 
 very good fellow, and I gave him that place to oblige 
 you; still, as you are no longer a gar^on — but 'lerhaps 
 I shall offend you ? " 
 
 " Not at all. What is there against Legard ? " 
 " Nothing in the world; but he is a bit of a boaster. 
 I daresay his ancestor was a Gascon, — poor fellow! — 
 and he affects to say that you can't choose a coat, or buy 
 a horse, without his approval and advice : that he can 
 turn you round his finger. Now, this hurts your con- 
 sequence in the world; you don't get credit for your 
 own excellent sense and taste. Take my advice, avoid 
 these young hangers-on of fashion, these club-room lions. 
 Having no importance of their own, they steal the im- 
 portance of their friends. Verhum sap." 
 
 "You are very right, — Legard is a coxcomb; and 
 now I see why he talked of joining us at Paris." 
 
 " Don't let him do any such thing! Ho will be tell- 
 ing the Frenchmen tliat her ladyship is in love with 
 him, — ha! ha!" 
 
 22 
 

 rli 
 
 Hi 
 
 338 
 
 ALICK; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 good^okeVi ~ ' '"^ ^^°' ^■^'^^ = P-'^ Caroline ! _ very 
 
 the' To"' ^""'^'^' '"" '"'''^•" ^"^ ^^^g'---^ closed 
 "Legard go to Paris, — not if Evelyn goes there '" 
 ™j ered l„„,e,. •■ Beside,, I want =fo ^Zrtthe 
 little that one can screw out of this blockhead." 
 
ALICE; on, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 330 
 
 CHAlTER IV. 
 
 demoods. and appurtenances whatever!- Wvchkhlkv, P,'a," 
 
 In quitting -enton's Hotel. Lord Vargrave entered into 
 one of the clubs in St. James's Street; this was rather 
 unusual with him, for he was not a club-man. It was 
 not his system to spend his time for nothing. But it 
 was a wet December day. the House not yet assem- 
 bled, and he had done his official business. Here as 
 he was munching a biscuit, and reading an article in one 
 of the ministerial papers. -the heads of which he him- 
 self Lad supplied, -Lord Saxingham joined and drew 
 nim to the window. 
 
 "I have reason to think." said the earl, "that your 
 visit to Windsor did good. " 
 
 "Ah. indeed; so I fancied." 
 
 "I do not think that a certahj personage will ever 
 
 consent to the question; and the premier, whom I 
 
 saw to-day, seems chafed and irritated." 
 
 "Nothing can be better; T know that we are in the 
 right boat." 
 
 •lut-^^ L^ '' "°' *'"'• ^"""^^^y* that your marriage 
 with Miss Cameron is broken oiT; vach was the on dit 
 in the club just before you entered." 
 
 "Contradict it, my dear lord , - contradict it. I hope 
 by the spring to introduce Lady Vargrave to you. But 
 who broached the absurd report?" 
 
I 
 
 340 
 
 ALICE; OR, THK MYSTERIES, 
 
 ;■,;'{ 4 'IS 
 
 " Why, your proti,j6, Logard, says he heard so from 
 his uncle, who lieard it frnin Sir John Mcrton." 
 
 " Legard is a puppy, and Sir John :vrerton a jackass. 
 Leu x-d had better attend to his office, if he wants to get 
 on; a-.d I wish you 'd ^11 him so. I liave lieard some- 
 where that he talks of going to Paris; you can just 
 hint to hira that he must give up such idle habits. 
 Public functionaries are not now what they were : people 
 are expected to work for the money they pocket; 
 otherwise Legard is a cleverish fellow, and deserves 
 promotion. A word or two of caution from you will 
 do him a vast deal of good." 
 
 " Be sure I will lecture him. Will you dine with 
 me to-day, Lumley ? " 
 
 "No. I expect my co-trustee, Mr. Douce, on matters 
 of business, —a tete-a-tete dinner." 
 
 Lord Vargrave had, as he conceived, very cleverly 
 talked over Mr. Douce into letting his debt to that gen- 
 tleman run on for the present; and in the mean while, 
 he had overwhelmed Mr. Douce with his condescen- 
 sions. That gentleman had twice dined with Lord 
 Vargrave; and Lord Vargrave had twice dined with 
 him. The oc - -o-i of the present more familiar enter- 
 tainment was 1.1 n, letter from Mr. Douce, begging to see 
 Lord Vargrave on particular business; and Vargrave, 
 who by no means liked the word business from a gen- 
 tleman to whom he owed money, thought that it would 
 go off more smoothly if sprinkled witli champagne. 
 
 Accordingly, he begged " my dear Mr. Douce " to ex- 
 cuse ceremony, and dine with him on Thursday at 
 seven o'clock, —he was really so busy all the mornings. 
 At seven o'clock Mr. Douce came. The moment°ho 
 entered, Vargrave called out, at the top of his voice 
 " Dinner immediately! " And as the little man bowed 
 
 taiat»«i ii 
 
ALICE; OK, Till.; MYSTERIES. ^41 
 
 and shuffled and fidyeted and wriggled Avhile Var- 
 grave shook him fay the hand), as ff he Wught e 
 was going himself to be spitted, his host said, « With 
 
 Uis thT/'," '" P°1^°"^ ''^ '^"^«^^ *i" ^ft- dinner 
 we can, _ eh ? Well, and how are all at home ? Dev- 
 
 yI krfn T I "I ^?P' ^'^^ ^" ^^^'^'^ ^^Pital health. 
 ^ go the;." ' ' ""^ ''-' "^^"°"^^ ^ --^ h^'l "- 
 "Ah, ye., -I think, I remember, at Ful-Ful-Ful- 
 ham! " gasped out Mr. Douce. " Your poor uncle's -- 
 now Lady Var-Var-Vargrave's jcinture^ouse. So _ 
 
 SO — — 
 
 _ "She don't live there! " burst in Vargrave Jar too 
 impatient to be polite). "Too cockneyfieTf h " 
 gave It up to me, - very pretty place, but d d xne.: 
 
 Thave l7 .'."' '^"'' ''-' '''''' '''''' there, -and so 
 his bill V "^l 7^«-™^^-°'''^nt; the .ent just pays 
 his bill. You will taste some of the sofas and tables 
 to-day in his champagne. I don't know how it is I 
 always fancy my sherry smells like my poor uncle's old 
 leather chair; very odd smell it had, -a kind of re- 
 spectable smell ! I hope you're hungry; dinn." 
 
 uiiucrhianu tl.dt his affairs were in the most 
 flourishing condition; and he continued to keep up the 
 ba 1 all dinner-time, stopping Mr. Donee's Ji-Je miser- 
 able, gasping, dace-like mouth with « a glu., of wine 
 Douce - or « by the bye, Douce," whenever he saw th:; 
 worthy gentleman about to make the .Eschylean im- 
 provement of a second person in the dialogue 
 
 At length, dinner being fairly over, and the servants 
 
lu 
 
 •in- 
 
 
 
 342 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTEKIES. 
 
 V hdrawn. Lord Var^rave, knowing ti.at soonnr or 
 kter Ibuce w.,uld ha^o in. say, drew his chair to the 
 fire, put In. feet on the fender, and cried, as he .'o....] 
 off^hxs claret, ".Xow. Douck, wi..x cvx I r>c ron 
 
 Mr. Douce opened his eyes l- their full .xteut, and 
 then as rapid y closed them; and thi« operation he con- 
 anued tilL having snuffed them so much that they 
 
 ■iriccd .hat he had not misundersto.,d his lordship. 
 
 Indeed, then," he began, in hi. most frightened 
 manner mdeed _ I _ really, your lor.lship is very good 
 
 u^ I '''^''^'^ ^"^ ^P^^^ ^ y«^ o» ba. mess. » 
 Well, what can I do for you,~some little favor. 
 
 StaL Offl T"''"" °J " ^''''''^' '^''^' '' ^ Pl^^« in the 
 call hi^f V" T '"' '^^'r-'-^ohn, I think you 
 
 -but^l'"'^'''^^ ^°'' ^'^ ^" good-good-goodness-but 
 Vargrave threw himself back, and shutting his eyes 
 mid pursing up his mouth, resolutely suffered Mr. Douce 
 to unbosom himself without interruption. He was con- 
 siderably relieved to find that the business referred to 
 related only to Miss Cameron. Mr. Douce having r - 
 
 tTetish 1 v"^"r' " '^ ^^^ °^^- ^-« hefor'e. of 
 the wishes of his uncle, that the greater portion of he 
 
 money bequeathed to Evelyn should be invested in land 
 proceeded to say that a most excellent opportunity pre- 
 sented itself for just such a purchase a. would have 
 rejoiced the heart of the late lord. A < .n.rb place in 
 he s,,ie of Blickling: deer-park si ifZlZ 
 10,000 acres of land, bringing in a clef 8.000 a year 
 purcu.. >-money only £240.000. :ch, w' ole estatewas! 
 
ALICE; OK, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 343 
 
 indeed much larger. - 18,000 acres; but then the more 
 distant farms could be sold in different lots, in ordlZ 
 
 ard tir:!^""^ '''-' '-''--'' ^-^- ^- - 
 
 "Well," said Yargrave, "and where is it? Mv poor 
 
 " Oh! this — is much — much - much fi-fi-finer- 
 famous investment -but rather far off J in -in 1' 
 north. Li-Li-Lisle Court " ^^® 
 
 Mdttt'r'' '^'^' '''' "^* ''^' ^^^-^ *° Colonel 
 
 really -a se-se-secret - not in the market yet -not 
 at all — soon snapped up " ^ 
 
 ganU"""'- """ "^^'^"^^ ^^^^— ^-n extrava- 
 
 Juh-f ' ^"t^ '^T. "'*-^ ^^^^-«'' ^^ther Lady- 
 Julia -so I'm told. yes. indeed -does not I'-like 
 gomg .0 far. and so they spend the winter in It ly i~ 
 stead. Yes - very odd - very fine place. " ^ 
 
 of hrolTf^' l"'"''" '''^""'^*^'' ^'^"^ *he elder brother 
 of h s old friend: a man who possessed some of Ernest's 
 faults, -very proud and very exacting and very fas 
 tidious; but all these faults were developed n t e 
 ordinary commonplace world, and were not 'the fined 
 abstraction, of his younger brother 
 
 Colonel Maltravers had continued, since he entered 
 h Guards, to be thoroughly the man of fashion ami 
 nothing more But rich, and well-bom. and Ih w 
 connected and thoroughly ^ la mode a hT was S 
 pnde made him uncomfortable in London. wS h 
 fastidiousness made him uncomfortable in the count ^ 
 He was rutker a great person, but he wanted to be a 
 
 ii- 
 
/ •r.m ,. 
 
 344 
 
 ALICE; OR, THK MYSTERIES. 
 
 yy great person. This ho was at Lisle Court; hut 
 that did not satisfy him; ho wanted not only to be a 
 vory great person, but a very great person among very 
 great persons, -and squires and parsons bored him 
 Lady Juha, his wife, was a fine lady, inane and pretty, 
 who saw everything through her husband's eyes He 
 was quite master che;^ lul, was Colonel Maltravers' 
 He lived a great deal abroad; for on tlie Continent his 
 arge income seemed princely, while his high character, 
 thorough breeding, and personal advantages, which were 
 remarkable, secured him a greater position in foreicrn 
 courts than at his own. Two things had greatly dh- 
 gusted him with Lisle Court. _ trifles they might be 
 with others, but they were not trifles to Cuthbert Mal- 
 travers: in the first place, a man who had been his 
 tather s attorney, and who was the very incarnation of 
 coarse unrepellible familiarity, had bought an estate 
 close by the said Lisle Court, and had, horresco ref evens, 
 been made a baronet! Sir Gregory Gubbins to^k pre- 
 cedence of Colonel Maltravers! He could ro^. ride out 
 but he met Sir Gregory; he could not dine out but he 
 had the pleasure of walking behind Sir Gregory's bright 
 blue coat with its bright brass buttons. In his last visit 
 to Lisle Court, which he had then crowded with all man- 
 ner of fine people, he had seen, -the very first morning 
 after his arrival, -seen from the large window of his 
 state saloon, a great staring white, red, blue, and ^n\t 
 thing, at the end of the stately avenue planted °by 
 feir Guy Maltravers in honor of the Victory over thV- 
 Spanish Armada. He looked in mute surprise, and 
 everybody else looked; and a polite German count, 
 gazing through his eye-glass, said, "Ah! dat is vat 
 
 StrTlV''"'^'^"^"^^'--''^^^'"^^^^^-^^ 
 
''.y 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 345 
 
 This "vim" was the pago.la summerhouse of Sir 
 Gregory Gubbins, erected in imitation of tlie Pavilion 
 at Brighton. Colonel Maltravers Avas miserable- the 
 vim haunted him, -it seemed ubiquitous; he could 
 not escape it; it was built on the highest spot in the 
 ''ounty: nde, walk, sit where he would, the vivi stared 
 ai. him; and he thought he saw little mandarins sliako 
 their round little heads at him. Tins was one of the 
 great curses of Lisle Court, -tlic other was yet more 
 galling. The owners of Lisle Court had for several <'en- 
 erations possessed the dominant interest in the county 
 town. The colonel himself meddled little in politics 
 and was too fine a gentleman for the drudgery of Par- 
 laraent: he had offered the seat to Ernest, when the 
 latter had commenced his public career; but the result 
 of a communication proved that their political views 
 were dissimilar, and the negotiation dropped without 
 ill-feeling on either side. Subsequently a vacancy oc- 
 curred; and Lady Julia's brother (just made a Lord of 
 the Treasury) wished to come into Parliament, so the 
 county town was offered to him. Xow, the proud com- 
 moner had married into the family of a peer as proud 
 as himself, and Colonel Maltravers was always glad 
 whenever he could impress his consequence on his con- 
 nections by doing them a favor. He wrote to his 
 steward to see that the thing was properly settled, and 
 came down on the nomination-day « to share the tri- 
 umph and partake the gale." Guess his indignation 
 when he found the nephew of Sir Gregory Gubbins was 
 already in the field! The result of the election was, 
 that Mr. Augustus Gubbins came in, and th^t Colonel 
 Mal'r-j ers was pelted with cabbage-stalks, and accused 
 of t; M.apting to sell the worthy and independent elec- 
 tors to a government nominee! In shame and disgust. 
 

 f 5 
 
 846 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 Cot an^ """ '"'^ "^ ^"^ establishment at Lisle 
 Cou t. and once m ue retuod to tho Continent. 
 
 About a week from the date now touched upon Ladv 
 Juha and himself had arrived in London from Vienna 
 
 L^srCoT'f ^V^f^' "'^ unfortunate"^;:::; 
 
 lished of wrK ^ '^ '"'^ '^"'"P'^"^ h'^^J been estab- 
 
 ished of which Sir Gregory Gubbins was a princinil 
 
 one ot the most useful men in the house " had nnrlp. 
 taken to carry the bill through Parliament clti" 
 
 ine map of the places which this blessed railway was 
 to bisect; and lo! jrst at the bottom of his n Tr J . 
 portentous lino, which informed him o t^e sacrL he 
 
 S whicif ^ad L:1 r' 'T'' *°^^"' "- inhabitant! 
 oi wnich had pelted him with cabbage-stalks' 
 
 Colonel Maltravers lost all patience. Unacnuainted 
 
 Ir'Tu "''^"S'' ^ gentleman's park ^^ 
 
 Julia "irr^ " "'' ? """ ''''"^ "''" «^i^ he to Lady 
 juiia, It gets worse and wor.se ev ■y year T nm . 
 
 I never had any comfort in Lisle Court T > 
 
 mind to sell it. " *"''• ^ ^^ ' S^^^^ 
 
 and^Ltt:^",^:/^^ rvT' -^^ '^-^^h*-. 
 
 « and the place r' :; T . l"' "'f ''''' ''''''' 
 
 hood is so'disag ,1 z!:ri"i' ''' ^^" r •°^^"^- 
 
 well without it » '^'* "^^ '"''^^ J° ^-y 
 
 Colonel Maltravers made no answer, but he ■•.solved 
 
 the pros and cons; and then he began to think W 
 
ALICE; OR, THK MYSTElilKS. 347 
 
 Bides- ^n,l H ' r "''''''^" ^''°"'« ^^hom be- 
 
 sides aiul then the pa-ocla flushed across him; and then 
 
 You may sell Luslo Court," said he, quietly. 
 The solicitor dip, ' his pen in the ink. "The par- 
 ticulars, colonel?" t"^^ 
 
 "Particulars of Lisle Court' evervh.irlv fl„.f ; 
 fe-ntlenuui, knows Lisle Court! r^'^^'^'^^' ^'^^* ^«. ^^ery 
 "Price, sir? " , 
 
 wi'l7ll\''T "'' >-«"*«. -O'-iloulato accordingly. It 
 will b too largo a purchase for one individual sell 
 the ou lying woods and farms separately f.om the s/' 
 ^^ We must draw up an advertisement, colonel." 
 Advertise Lisle Court! -out of the question sir 
 1 can have no publicity given to my intentL: ine^lt on 
 
 • 1?"; is'drs:tt^ 7T'^ '"' '^"^p '' -'' ^' ^h"^ - 
 
 cha er T ^^f ""' '' '^'^ 3^«" ^'" find a 
 rcnaser, — the sooner the better." 
 
 Besides his horror of i.ewspaper" comments and now- 
 paperp,ff3. Colonel Maltravers dreaded that hifbroZ 
 -then in Pans -should learn his intention, and a - 
 
 va?a mt T '''' Tp' ""^'^^^^ "^°^^^^^' *^^ -'-1 
 was a httle in awe of r]rnest, and a little ashaiucd of hh 
 
 resolution. He did not know that, by a singular. L^ 
 
 dence Ernest himself had thought of soiling Burleigh. 
 
 II e solicitor was by no means pleased with this way 
 
 that Lisle Court was in the market; and as it really was 
 one of the most celebrated places of its kind in Enlnd 
 tlie whisper spread among bankers, and brewers ami 
 joa^l>^er^andotherrichpeople,-the Medi:[:;f h 
 ^e^Y J!^oblesse rising up amongst us. — till at Ia,t if 
 reached the ears of Mr. Douce 
 
m 
 
 348 
 
 AUCK; OH, TIIK MVSTEi;lES. 
 
 If 
 
 ' ? 
 
 li 
 
 Lord Vargravo, however bad a man he might be. had 
 not many of those vices of character which belong to 
 what r may call the ,.....„/ das. of vices, ~-S ^ 
 he had no ,1 -will to individual. He was not. 12 
 narily, a jealous man, nor a spiteful, nor a nmlignant. 
 or a vindictive man: his vices arose from utter in^ 
 dfference to all men. and all things. _ except as con- 
 ducive to his own ends. He would not have injured 
 a worm ,f it did him no good, but he would have se 
 any house on fire, if he had no other means of roastinc. 
 his own eggs. i^et still, if any feeling of persona! 
 Rancor could harbor in his breast! it wa^.^.t.^owLs 
 Jl-velyn Cameron; and, secondly, towards Ernest Mal- 
 travers. For the first time in his life, he did long for 
 revenge, -revenge against the one for stealing his 
 patrimony and refusing his hand; and that revenge 
 h hoped to gratify. As to the other, it was not To 
 n ueh dislike he felt, as an uneasy sentiment of infei" 
 ority However well he himself had got on in the 
 wodd he yet grudged the reputation of'a man ^hl 
 he had remembered a wayward, inexperienced boy: he 
 did not love to hear any one praise Maltravers. He 
 fencied. too, that this feeling was reciprocal, and that 
 Maltravers was pained at hearing of any new step in his 
 own career. In fact, it was that sort of jealousy which 
 men ten feel for the companions of thei'r youth' wh se 
 c wacters are higher than their own, and whose 'triel 
 are of an order they do not quite comprehend. Now. 
 It certainly did seem, at that moment, to Lord Var- 
 grave that it would be a most splendid triumph o er 
 Mr. Maltravers of Burleigh, to be lord of Lisle Court, 
 the hereditary seat of the elder branch of the family to 
 
 trl'v'% rr'V'" *^'' ^"'^ '^''''' «f ^Ir- Ernest Mal- 
 travers's elder brother. He knew, too, that it was a 
 
ALICE; on, TIIK MYSTKKIES. 
 
 34'J 
 
 property of grnat consequt-uco : Lonl Var-^rave of 1 i.l„ 
 
 from Lord Vargrave of , v^Uv.nxl Xobody woutl 
 
 cull the owner of Li.slo Cottrt an adventurer nob 
 woulJ -spoct such a n.n of caring three rrl;vral 
 place aiul salary. And if he married Evelyn and 
 ^velyn bought Lisle Court, would not Lisle Co be his 
 
 were, with a single jump. Besides, even should th • 
 thing come to nothing, there was the very excuse h 
 -ught for joining Evelyn at Paris, for conver!h g with 
 her consulting her. It was true 'that the wH tf 
 
 elects Ihfff^ '' ''' '^^^^^"°" «^ *h« t-te 
 But St IlT ^"'''^f "^vestment as seemed best to them, 
 
 proper courtesy, to coiisult Evelyn. And plans and 
 Jvawings and explanations and rent-rolls would .tify 
 him in spending morning after morning alone with her 
 
 hus cogitating, Lord Vargrave suffered Mr. Douce 
 to stammer out sentence upon sentence, till at length a 
 he rang for coffee, his lordship stretched himself wit, 
 the air of a man stretching himself into self-complacency 
 or a good thing, and said, — P^acency 
 
 T ." '^^'\^^!^,f ' I ^i" g« down to Lisle Court as soon as 
 I can 1 will see it; I will ascertain all about it; I wil 
 
 ^nltS^^^^^- ^ ^^- ^^^^^ -u; I tliin^i: 
 
 ^ "But," said Mr. Douce, who seemed singularly anx- 
 ous about the matter, "we must make hasl. my lord • 
 
 ^M^^^'.rr' -d-^-if-if-if Baron Eoths- 
 Rothschild should -that is to say-" 
 
 "Oh, yes; I understand, _ keep the thing close, mv 
 dear Douce; make friends with the colonel's lawyer 
 plav with b m fl l,Hi^ +;ii T , .. ^""'yer, 
 
 play with him a little, till I 
 
 can run down." 
 
■'f**^ 
 
 350 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 m 
 
 " Besides, you see, you are such a good man of busi- 
 ness, my lord — that you see, that — yes, really — there 
 must be time to draw ou' the purchase-money — sell out 
 at a prop — prop — " 
 
 " To be sure, to be sure, — bless me, how late it is! 
 I am afraid my carriage is ready ! I must go to Madame 
 deL 's." 
 
 Mr. Douce, who seemed to have much more to .say, 
 was forced to keep it in for another time, and to take 
 his leave. 
 
 Lord Vargrave went to Madame de L 's. His 
 
 position in what is called exclusive society was rather 
 peculiar. By those who affected to be the best judges, 
 the frankness of his manner and the easy oddity of his 
 conversation were pronounced at variance with the tran- 
 quil serenity of thorough breeding. But still he was 
 a great favorite both with tine ladies and dandies. His 
 handsome, keen countenance, his talents, his politics, 
 his intrigues, and an animated boldness in his bearing, 
 compensated for hiij constant violation of all the minutiae 
 of orthodox conventionalism. 
 
 At this house he met Colonel Maltravers, and took an 
 opportunity to renew his acquaintance with that gen- 
 tleman. He then referred, in a confidential whisper, 
 to the communication he had received touching Lisle 
 Court. 
 
 "Yes," said the colonel, "I suppose I must sell the 
 place, if I can do so quietly. To be sure, when I first 
 spoke to my lawyer, it was in a moment of vexation, on 
 
 hearing that the railroad was to go through the 
 
 park, but I find that I overrated that danger. Still, if 
 you will do me the honor to go and look over the place, 
 you will find very good shooting; and wh«n you come 
 back, you can see if it will suit you. Don't say auy- 
 
 
ALICE; Oi;, THE MYSTEUIES. 
 
 351 
 
 thing about it when you are there ; it is better not to 
 publish my intention all over tiie county. I shall have 
 Sir Gregory Guhbins offering to buy it, if you do! " 
 
 " You may depend on my discretion. Have you heard 
 anything of your brotlio.r lately ? " 
 
 " Yes; I fancy he is going to Switzerland. He would 
 soon be in England, if he heard I was going to part with 
 Lisle Court!" 
 
 " What, it would vex him so? " 
 
 " I fear it would; but he has a nice old place of his 
 own, not half so large, and therefore not half so trouble- 
 some as Lisle Court." 
 
 " Ay! and he did talk of selling that nice old place." 
 
 "Selling Burleigh! you surprise me. But really 
 country places in England are a bore. I suppose he 
 has his Gubbins as well as myself! " 
 
 Here the chief minister of the government, adorned 
 by Lord Vargrave's virtues, passed by, and Luniley 
 turned to greet him. 
 
 The two ministers talked together most affectionately 
 in a close whisper, — so affectionately that one might 
 have seen, with half an eye, that they hated each other 
 like poison! 
 
M 
 
 352 
 
 ALICE; OK, THE MYSTERIES, 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Hi 
 
 m 
 
 Inspicere tanquam in speculum, in vitas omnium 
 Jubeo.i 
 
 Terent. 
 
 Ernest Maltravees still lingered at Paris: he gave 
 up all notion of proceeding further. He was. in fact, 
 tired of travel. But there was another reason tiiat 
 chained him to that " Xavel of the Earth, " — there is 
 not anywhere a better sounding-board to London rumors 
 than the English quartier between the Boulevard des 
 Italiens and the Tuileries; here, at all events, he should 
 soonest learn the worst: and every day, as he took up 
 the English newspapers, a sick feeling of appreliension 
 and fear came over him. No! till the seal was set upon 
 the bond, till the Rubicon was passed, till Miss Cameron 
 was the wife of Lord Yargrave, he could neither return 
 to the home that was so eloquent with the recollections 
 of Evelyn, nor, by removing further from England, delay 
 the receipt of an intelligence which he vainly told himself 
 he was prepared to meet. 
 
 He continued to seek such distractions from thought as 
 were within his reach ; and as his heart was too occupied 
 for pleasures which had, mdeed, long since palled, those 
 distractions were of the grave and noble character which 
 it is a prerogative of the intellect to afford to the 
 passions. 
 
 De Montaigne was neither a Doctrinaire nor a Repub- 
 lican,— and yet, perhaps, he was a little of both. Ho 
 1 I bid you look into the lives of all men, as it were into a mirror. 
 
ALICE; OK, THE MYSTERIKS. 
 
 353 
 
 was one who thought that the tendency of all European 
 States is towards Democracy; but lie hy no means looked 
 upon Democracy as a panacea for all hsgislativo evils. 
 He thought that while a writer should he in advance of 
 his time, a statesman should content himself with march- 
 ing by its side ; that a nation could not be ripened, like 
 an exotic, by artificial means; that it must be developed 
 only l)y natural influences, lie believed that forms of 
 government are never universal in their effects. Thus, 
 De Montaigne conceived that we were wrong in attaching 
 more importance to legislative than to social reforms. 
 He considered, for instance, that the surest sign of our 
 progressive civilizaticm is in our growing distaste of capi- 
 tal punishments. He believed, not in the ultimate per- 
 fecAinn of mankind, but in their progressive j5e?'/ef!f/ii7/Y//. 
 He thought that improvement was indefinite ; but he did 
 not place its advance more under Itepublican than under 
 Monarchical forms. "Provided," he was wont to say, 
 " all our checks to power are of the right kind, it matters 
 little to what hands the power itself is confided. " 
 
 "^gina and Athens," said he, "were republics — 
 commercial and maritime — placed under the same sky, 
 surrounded by the same neighbors, and rent by the same 
 struggles between Oligarchy and Democracy. Yet while 
 one left the world an immortal heirloom of genius, where 
 are the poets, the philosophers, the statesmen of the 
 other? Arrian tells us of repulilics in India,— still sup- 
 posed to exist by modern investigators, — but they are not 
 more productive of liberty of thought, or ferment of in- 
 tellect, than the principalities. In Italy there were 
 commonwealths as liberal as the republic of Florence; 
 but they did not produce a Macliiavelli or a Dante. 
 What daring thought, what gigantic speculation, what 
 democracy of wisdom and genius, have sprung up amongst 
 
 23 
 
\ V 
 
 '} t ! 
 
 Wri 
 
 h ^n 
 
 354 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 the despotisms of Germany! You cannot educate two 
 individuals so as to produco tlie sanu^ ivsults from both; 
 you cannot, by similar constitutions (\vliicli are the edu- 
 cation of nations), produce the same results from different 
 communities. The proper object of statesmen sliould be 
 to give every facility to the people to develoji tli. ,1- 
 selves, and every facility to philosophy to dispute and 
 discuss as to the ultimate objects to be obtained. But 
 you cannot, as a practical legislator, place your country 
 under a melon-frame: it must grow of its own accord." 
 
 I do not say Mdiether or not De Montaigne was wrong; 
 but :Maltiavers saw at least that he was faithful to his 
 theories ; that all his motives were sincere,— all his prac- 
 tice pure. Ho could not but allow, too, that in his occu- 
 pations and labors, De Montaigne appeared to feel a 
 sublime enjoyment: that, in linking all the powers of 
 his mind to active and useful objects, De Montaigne was 
 infinitely happier than the philosophy of indifference, the 
 scorn of ambition, had made Maltravers. The influence 
 exercised by the large-souled and practical Frenchman 
 over the fate and the history of Maltravers was very 
 peculiar. 
 
 De Montaigne had not, apparently and directly, oper- 
 ated upon his friend's outward destinies, but he had done 
 so indirectly, by operating on his mind. Perhaps it was 
 he who had consolidated the first wavering an.i uncertain 
 impulses of Maltravers towards literary exertion: it wa,s 
 he who had consoled him for the mortifications at the 
 early part of his career; and now, perhap.-<, he mi-rht 
 serve, in the full vigor of his intellect, permanentbUo 
 reconcile the Englishman to the claims of life. 
 
 There were, indeed, certain conversations which Mal- 
 travers held with De Montaigne, the germ and pith of 
 which it is necessary that I should place before the 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 355 
 
 reader, — fori write the inner as well as the outer his- 
 tory of a man ; and tlie great incidents of life are nut 
 brouglit about oidy by the (h'amatic agencies of others, 
 but also by our own reasonings and luibits of thought. 
 What I am now al)out to set down may be weariscnac, 
 but it is not episodical; and 1 promise that it shall be tlie 
 last didactic conversation in tlie work. 
 
 One day, Maltravers was relating to De Montaigne all 
 that he had been planning at Burleigh for the improve- 
 ment of his peasantry, and all his theories respecting 
 Labor-Schools and Poor-Rates, when De Montaigne 
 
 abruptly turned round, and said, 
 
 You have, then, really found that in your own little 
 village, your exertions — exertions, not very arduous, not 
 demanding a tenth part of your tiuie — have done 
 practical good 1 " 
 
 "Certainly I think so," rephcd Maltravers, in some 
 surprise. 
 
 "And yet it was but yesterday that you declared 
 'that all the labors of philosophy and legislation ivere 
 labors vain; their benefits equivocal and uncertain ; that 
 as the sea, where it loses in one place, gains in another, 
 so civilization only partially profits us, stealing away one 
 virtue while it yields another, and leaving the large pro- 
 portions of good and evil eternally the same.' " 
 
 "True; but I never said that man might not relieve 
 individuals by individual exertion, though he cannot by 
 abstract theories, nay, even by practical action in the 
 wide circle, benefit the mass. " 
 
 " Do you not employ on behalf of individuals the same 
 moral agencies that wise legislation or sound philosophy 
 would adopt towards the multitude ? For example, you 
 find that the children of your village are happier, more 
 orderly, more obedient, promise to be wiser and better 
 
356 
 
 ALICE; OK, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 men in tlieir own station of life, from the new, and I 
 grant, excellent, system of school discipline and teaching 
 that you have established. What you have done in one 
 village, why should not legislation do throughout a 
 kingdom? Again, you find timt, ^v simply holding out 
 hope and emulation to industry, — l.y making stern dis- 
 tinctions between the energetic and the itUo, the inde- 
 pendent exertion and the pauper mendicancy, —you 
 have found a lever by which you have literally moved 
 and shifted the little world around you. But what is the 
 difference here between the rules of a village lord and the 
 laws of a wise legislature ? The moral feelings you have 
 appealed to exist universally, — the moral remedies you 
 have practised are as open to legislation as to the individ- 
 ual proprietor. " 
 
 Yes; but when you apply to a nation the same prin- 
 ciples which regenerate a village, new counterbalancing 
 prniciples arise. If i give education to my peasants, I 
 send them into the world with advantages siqjerior to 
 their fellows,— advantages which, not being common to 
 their class, enable them to vutstrip their fellows. But 
 if this education were universal to the whole tribe, no 
 man would have an advantage superior to tlie others; the 
 knowledge they would have acquired being shared by all, 
 would leave all as they now are, hewers of wood and 
 drawers of water: the principle of indivi.lual hope, which 
 springs from knowledge, would soon be baffled by the 
 vast competition that unioersal knowledge would pro- 
 duce. Thus by the universal improvement would be 
 engendered a universal discontent. 
 
 Take a broader view of the subject. Advantages 
 given to the feiv around me — superior wages, lighter 
 toils, a greater sense of the dignity of man — are not 
 productive of any cliange in society. Give these advan- 
 
ALICE; OR, thf: mysteries. 
 
 357 
 
 tages to the whole mass of the lahoring classes, and 
 Avhat in the small orbit is the desire of the individual to 
 rise, becomes in the large circumference the desire of the 
 -.ss to rise; hence social restlessness, social change, revo- 
 lution, and its hazards. For rt volutions are produced 
 but by the aspirations of one order and the resistance of 
 tlie other. Consequently, legislative improvement differs 
 widely from individual amelioration; the same principle, 
 the same agency, tliat purifies tho small body, becomes 
 destructive when applied t(j the large one. Apply the 
 flame to the log on the liearth, or apply it to the forest, 
 IS there no distinction in the result? — the breeze that 
 freshens the fountain passes to the ocean, current impels 
 current, wave urges wave, and the breeze becomes the 
 storm. " 
 
 " Were there truth in this train of argument, " replied 
 De Montaigne, " had we ever abstained from commu- 
 nicating to the multitude the enjoyments and advantages 
 of the few; had we shrunk from the good, because the 
 good is a parent of the change and its partial ills.— what 
 now would be society? Is there no difiference in collec- 
 tive happiness and virtue between the painted Picts and 
 the Druid worship, and the glorious harmony, light, and 
 order of the great English nation 1 " 
 
 "Tlie question is popular," said Maltravers, with a 
 smile, " and were you my opponent in an election, would 
 be cheered on any hustings in the kingdom. But I have 
 lived among savage tribes, — savage, perliaps, as the 
 race that resisted Caesar,— and their happiness seems to 
 me, not perhaps the same as that of the few whose sources 
 of enjoyment are numerous, refined, and save by their 
 own passions, unalloyed, but equal to that of the mass of 
 men in states the most civilized and advanced. The ar- 
 tisans, crowded together in the fetid air of factories, with 
 
358 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 physical ills gnawing at the core of tlxe constitution from 
 
 set, and fly.ng for recreation to the dread excitement of 
 he dram-shop, or the wild and vain hopes of po if c 
 fanaticism - are not in my eyes happier than Te'v Id 
 Indians with hardy frames and calm tempers seasoned o 
 «.e privations for which you pity .hem, a^rul; Jd 
 with desires of that better state never to be theirs J] e 
 
 fJl^T ^' "•?* '^""^ *'^^*-'^° ^°* «^r priests preach it 
 
 enjoyments and more privations in the 0,111,™ in iZ 
 
 pa.„t,.sWper,.if,e,r^^^^^ 
 
 ftames, -your gauge of proportion loses all it, va ue 
 
 -cie ty; and, reversing the divine parable, it i^ La t ^s 
 
 Dvl'Tttlan f'r r^ ^^P^^-M^it. looksTpon 
 x^ives m the lap of Paradise: therefore, liis privations 
 
 tt wXforotr^'^ v^" '''''' '^ compaSrs 
 
 fores TW,?'''^ f°* '' ^" "^« ^^^'^^^^ ^d the 
 ore.t. There but small distinctions, and those softened 
 
 T^ t i fw' -"P?"*^ "" ^^^-'^^^ f^- W^^ chief! 
 Ihe fact IS, that in civilization we behold a splendid 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 359 
 
 aggregate, -literature and science, wealth aiul luxury 
 cuu)rnerce an.l glory ; but we see not the milliou victimi 
 cruslu^d beneat^. the wheels of the n.achine, the health 
 sacrificed the board brea.lless, the jails filled, the hos- 
 pitals reeking, the human life poisoned in every spring 
 and poured forth like water! Neither do we renienibe; 
 all the steps, marked by desolation, crime, an.l bloodshed, 
 by which this barren summit has been reached. Take 
 the history of any civilized state: England, France 
 Spam before she rotte<l back into second childhood, tlie 
 Italian Republics, the Greek Commonwealths, tlie Em- 
 press of the Seven Hills, _ what struggles, what perse- 
 cutions, what crimes, wliat massacres! Where in the 
 page of history, shall we look back and say, 'Here im- 
 provement has diminished the sum of evil?' Extend 
 too, your scope beyond the state itself: each state has 
 won Its acquisitions by the woes of others. Spain springs 
 above the Old World on the blood-stained ruins of the 
 New; and the groans and the gold of Mexico produce the 
 splendors of the Fifth Charies. 
 
 "Behold England, -the wise, the liberal, the free 
 England: through what struggles she has passed: and 
 IS she yet contented? The sullen oligarchy of the Nor- 
 mans ; our own criminal invasions of Scotland and France • 
 the plundered people; the butchered kings; the persecu- 
 tions of the Lollards; the wars of Lancaster and York • 
 the new dynasty of the Tudors, that at once put back 
 liberty and put forward civilization; the Reformation, 
 cradled m the lap of a hideous despot, and nursed by 
 vioknce and rapine, the stakes and fires of Mary and 
 the craftier cruelties of Elizabeth; England, stre'ngth- 
 ened by the desolation of Ireland: the Civil Wars- the 
 reign of hypocrisy, followed by the reign of naked Vice; 
 the nation that beheaded the gracef-il Charles gaping idly 
 
360 
 
 ALIUK; or, the iMYSTEKIKS. 
 
 . u 
 
 in Jrearul, the bootless glories of Marlborough: the or- 
 ganized corruption of Walpole ; the frantic war with our own 
 American sons; the exhausting struggles . ith Napoleon 
 
 vearfof ''' T T P'^' " ^« «-y. Lol a thousand 
 years of incessant struggles and atHictions! Millions 
 have perished, but art has survived; our boors ea 
 
 et"T;r" ""r" '""' '''' ^"^ P-^« -^ Shake- 
 speare, and our astronomers improve on Newton ' Are 
 
 we now contented ? No ! more restless than ever. " New 
 classes are called into power; new forms of government 
 insisted on. Still the same catchwords, - iLrty h re 
 ;-gion there; order with one faction, ameliorati<.. with 
 ;;H. other. W^,ere is the goal, and what have we gained ? 
 .ooks are written, silks are woven, palaces are built, -- 
 
 l.^asant still. The crowd are yet at the bottom of the 
 contented. The artisan is as anxious for change as ever 
 as ^helC: ^"' ''^ ^'^^"^-^"^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^"- - -^1 
 whli^''^^ «^ l^gisl'ition; all isolated laws pave the way to 
 
 pate Catholics, and you open the door to the democratic 
 principle that opinion should be free; if free wTthe 
 sectarian it should be free with the elector. The ballot 
 
 ballot, and the new corollary of enlarged suffrage. Suf- 
 frage enlarged is divided but by a yielding surface (a 
 
 Umve sal sutfi^ge is Democracy. Is Democracy betL 
 than the aristocratic commonwealth? Look at the 
 Greeks, who knew both form, are they agreed which t 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTKKIES. 
 
 361 
 
 Action. tl>o pouetratin. Wit 1 ' ''f'' '^^''"' ''^ 
 
 cannot agree. The n.uiy still Z ? I ', •' 7^'''''^ 
 an you yourself will allow Prussh n ,^"1''^ ^'^'' 
 «11 that republics .do. Y^s b^ ' t ,' d««Potism, does 
 accident; rue but <i in.f i \ ^""'^ '^''P^* ^^' '-^ ^"^^^7 
 
 »l.irit than t 1 "rro'nrT '"'*""" "^ ^ '- 
 
 « A rnroi T, ^ ^ '^^^ American eye. 
 
 tionXirta": '"'??'"""''»' '"^' —■■« 
 
 ' ""fe'^^yi —peace and stagnation Wliof v i- i. 
 man, what Frenchman, would tish to' h7.t ? ^^Z 
 commercial republic is hut IT ,, ^''''''^ ^ 
 making money I '1 f". f"^''^^^^ "machine for 
 
 good only in „„ o™ , * r^Lr""; """ """« 
 and sennles to All ll,o sieve of fWn j '''"" '*''*" 
 the «to„.. of Sisyphus " """"*'' "'«' ">" "P 
 
 cell^^tldfTli'^-f J'f-af™''^''-' "^- ^^ 
 granted, would consign govern ne t?;'T' 7';'"''' " 
 and plunge the comnLwI t , °* ""'' ■"■''™«. 
 of Despond. B,°t ave ' ' ' '"°',*""' '■'"° "" plough 
 
 «on „4ht sum:' loTak:';:::'; Te ™r ,r '-- 
 
 -mal life. „n the whole, a furse ZTZs^Jf' "™ 
 
^'h^ 
 
 
 IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
 // 
 
 // 
 
 ..V 
 
 
 K^ 4i. 
 
 
 
 y. 
 
 i/.x 
 
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 1.0 
 
 I.I 
 
 11.25 
 
 
 2.5 
 
 ^ i- III 2.2 
 
 ! -^ IIIIIM 
 
 1.8 
 
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 — 6" 
 
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 % ^^ > 
 
 
 ^% " ^F -^ 
 
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 W A 
 
 
 Phol ^ 
 
 Sd^ces 
 Corporation 
 
 33 WEST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 
 
 (716) 873-4503 
 
^,<?^ 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^^-^ ^^ 
 
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362 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 P <l 
 
 The generality of men in all countries," answered 
 Maltravers, enjoy existence, and appreliend death; were 
 
 not'a GoT'"' ''"'^"^ ^'^^ ^"'' "''^' ^^ ^ ^'"^' ^"^ 
 
 .I,r 71!: *^''"' .''H''''' '^"'^ *^^^ P^'^g^^^^ °f society 
 cheats the grave! In great cities, where the effect of 
 
 civihza ion must be the most visible, the diminution 
 of mortality in a corresponding ratio with the increase 
 of "vihzation IS most remarkable. In Berlin, from the 
 year 1747 1755. the annual mortality was as one to 
 wenty eigh ; but from 1816 to 1822, it was as one 
 to thirty-foUr! You ask what England has gained by 
 her progress in the arts? I will answer you by her 
 bills of mortality. In London. Birmingham, and Liver- 
 pool, deaths have decreased in less than a century from 
 one to twenty, to one to forty (precisely one half r) 
 Agam, whenever a community - nay. a single city - de- 
 creases in civilization, and in its concomitants, activity 
 and commerce its mortality instantly increases. But 
 if civilization be favorable to the prolongation of life 
 must It not be favorable to all that blesses life. -to 
 bodily health to mental cheerfulness, to the capacities 
 for enjoyment? And how much more grand, how much 
 more subhme, becomes the prospect of gain, if we re- 
 flect that, to each life thus called forth, there is a soul 
 a destiny beyond the grave, multiplied immortalities! 
 What an apology for the continued progress of states! 
 But you say that, however we advance, we continue 
 impatient and dissatisfied. Can you really suppose that 
 because man m every state is discontented with his 
 lot. there IS no difference in the degree and gualiiu of 
 his discontent. _ no distinction between pining for bread 
 and longing for the moon? Desire is implanted within 
 us as the very principle of existence; the physical desire 
 
ALICE; Oil, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 863 
 
 fills the world, and the moral desire improves it. Where 
 there is desire, there must be discontent; if we are sat- 
 isfied with all things, desire is extinct. But a certain 
 degree of discontent is not incompatible with liappinoss 
 — nay, it has happiness of its own; what happiness like 
 Hope, —what IS hope but desire? The European serf, 
 whose seigneur could command his life or insist as a 
 right on the chastity of his daughter, desires to better his 
 condition. God has compassion on his state; Providence 
 calls mto action the ambition of leaders, the contests of 
 faction, the movement of men's aims and passions: a 
 change passes through society and legislation, and the 
 serf becomes free! He desires still, but what? No 
 longer personal security, no longer the privileges of life 
 and health; but higher wages, greater comfort, easier 
 justice for diminished wrongs. Is there no difference in 
 the quality of that desire? Was one a greater torment 
 than the other is? Rise a scale higher: a new class is 
 creaed,-the Middle Class, the express creature of 
 Civilization. Behold the burgher and the citizen, still 
 strugghng, still contending, still desiring, and therefore 
 still discontented. But the discontent does not prey 
 upon the springs of life: it is the discontent of hope, not 
 despaxr; it calls forth faculties, energies, and passions, 
 m which there is more joy than sorrow. It is this de- 
 sire which makes the citizen in private life an anxious 
 father, a careful master, an active, and therefore not an 
 unhappy man. You allow that individuals can effect 
 individual good; this very restlessness, this very discon- 
 tent with the exact place that he occupies, makes the 
 citizen a benefactor in his narrow circle. Commerce 
 better than charity, feeds the hungry and clothes the 
 naked. Ambition, better than brute affection, gives edu- 
 cation to our children, and teaches them the love of in- 
 
364 
 
 ALICE; OK, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 
 avarice, -nay, LeJZls of W 'r^r f™ 
 ample and professional tuition But wl,^ ' f" "'■ 
 n^n^tie^to tl.e vices ^^.r^Jt^tZ^tTt 
 
 the range of ideas and the exigencies of sociaS With 
 
 LedTeT' l7lr ""^ """' ^ '^"" "'■ ^ * 
 ized men, and they are consequently limited tn thJ 
 
 -mple and rude elements which the 'safe" of H t" 
 renders necessary to him. He is usually 1 o- ! 
 
 sometmies honest Tiui „; ^»^^iuy not [g, 
 
 fpnno ,, ^^^"^^ ^^'^ necessary to his exis- 
 
 cruelty without remorse, are essential to him- he fepl« 
 therr necessity, and calls them virtues/ EyTn the hal 
 
 at leasInoTn cest"; to ^ " "r''"" ="'"^' "« "" 
 thevare nnt tl T^ eastence of the majority ; 
 
 not essential to the stren^r safety^ (l '"'"'"'™'.™ 
 .oursava.e.heis:Ll^lcl't2::.ti:t:i;' 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 t for otliers 
 
 ities as can 
 w the most 
 
 [•, the more 
 ogue to get 
 risy, some 
 aternal ex- 
 such sober 
 :e and de- 
 ii'e mostly 
 ental and 
 portion to 
 fe. With 
 vith civil- 
 
 to tliose 
 
 r- 'ite 
 ie, 
 
 his exis- 
 ribe that 
 
 scruple, 
 
 he feels 
 the half- 
 gines he 
 iries be- 
 ncea are 
 majority; 
 
 Society 
 ere, are 
 nunity ; 
 sd, but 
 tues of 
 rave in 
 
 365 
 
 danger; he is patient in privation; ho practises the virtues 
 necessary to the l,onds of las calling and the tacit laws of 
 his voca 3on He might have made an admirable sava«o • 
 but surely the mass of civilized men are better than the 
 
 Maltravers was struck, and paused a little before he 
 replied; and then he shifted his ground. " But at least 
 all our laws, all our efforts, must leave the multitude in 
 every state condemned to a labor that deadens intellect 
 and a poverty th:*t embitters life. " ' 
 
 "Supposing this were true, still there arc multitudes 
 besides ./.e multitude. In each state civilization prc^ 
 duces a middle class, more numerous tonlay than the 
 who e peasantry of a thousand years ago. Would move- 
 ment and progress be without their divine uses, even if 
 they limited their effect to the production of such a class? 
 Look a so to the effect of art and refinement and just 
 laws in the wealthier and higher classes. See how their 
 very habits of life tend to increase the sum of enjoy 
 ment, -see the mighty activity that their very luxury 
 tlie very frivolity of their pursuits, create ! Without an 
 aristocracy, would there have been a middle class? With- 
 out a middle class, would there ever have been an in- 
 terposition between lord and slave? Before commerce 
 produces a middle class, religion creates one. The priest- 
 hood whatever its errors, was the curb to power. But 
 to return to the multitude, _ you say that in all times 
 they are left the same. Is it so? I come to statistics 
 again: I find that not only civilization, but liberty, has 
 a prodigious effect upon human life. It is, as it were 
 by the mstinct of self-preservation that liberty is so Das- 
 sionately desired by the multitude. A negro slave, for 
 instance, dies annually as one to five or six, but a free 
 Afncan in the English service only as one to thirty-five. 
 
366 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 11 ' 
 
 II? 
 II tk4 
 
 -.th tl,e ,„ost poetical of all l^^ hl^rT", 
 
 himself, ;1 ^t to hauTasT"' ""' t'™ "^ ^''" 
 progress. T J delt t hit XTlt "' """"""' 
 to the poet: it transport, .ril t",„ta; '!!*™"°'' 
 •Crura somnt ferro, sed canil i„,er „p„,', ■ 
 
 "And then comes the crisi.? tt^ 
 eeds; the storm;- .evolutl peAT, T " d 
 despot^sm; the relapse iato tl/s^S ^1„7:^ 
 
 " ^'^^ we, with new agencies af n„. 
 morality, new wisdom, pred cl of .T™'"*^' "°^ 
 
 past? In ancient states fhll ''" ^"^"""^ '^-V <^J^« 
 
 and freedom res ed w^. r"';T''' ^^^^'^^ ' ^'vi]i^ation 
 
 overthrow, in such states,-! hand ul If ,% '«'"''''^^'' 
 losophers without a people » Now T^^"' '^^ P^"" 
 barricrs to the circulaHon of i^l ""'! ''"'^'^ "« ^""^^^^ 
 abpeof^averrrhf^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^ 
 
 ^ul proportions of kingdoms, neither Jcr^eLoTt 
 
fc dream, a 
 interwoven 
 self! And 
 't be light- 
 jraiited al- 
 tent, tliere 
 erf. How 
 hence may 
 contented, 
 'ould have 
 3 to better 
 perpetual 
 lagination 
 
 1 the de- 
 akes the 
 sery and 
 
 5ns infco 
 
 armed 
 
 'ancy of 
 
 id, new 
 by the 
 ilization 
 20,000 
 neracy, 
 nd plii- 
 longer 
 . Tlie 
 health- 
 ier too 
 
 ALICE; 01!, TIIK MYSTERIES. 357 
 
 vast have created new hopes, which history cannot de- 
 
 awful Saturnalia!";:; mnit!;Xlm- ^:'- 
 nation fallen back? The deluge pail'ld b^ lid t: 
 face of things more glorious than before! Compare t le 
 French of to-day with the French of the Jd 'Z^ 
 You are silent; well, and if in all states there 7s "er 
 
 viduals, by the diffu^Ln ^f'S ow^tl^^^^^^^^^^ T^t 
 or m action, regulate the order of vast event-now pf 
 vent, now soften now animate, now guide And is a 
 man, to whom Providence and Fortune have impa ted 
 such prerogatives, to stand aloof, because he can neithpr 
 foresee the future nor create perfection? And you tl 
 of no certain and definite goal! How know we that tht e 
 IS a certain and definite goal, even in heaven? Ho' 
 know we that excellence may not be iUimitable Enough 
 that we improve.-that we proceed; seeing in the great 
 design of earth that benevolence is an attribute of the 
 Designer, let us leave the rest to posterity and taod " 
 trav ^TJ'^'^'^^^ ^-^y of my theories." saW Mal- 
 
 bu after all, is every man to aspire to influence others 
 to throw h,s opmions into the great scales in which hu- 
 man destinies are weighed ? Private life is not criminal 
 It IS no virtue to write a book, or to make a "Zh 
 
 "Ah! " interrupted the Frenchman, laughing; "if T 
 have driven you to this point. I will go' no^urtW 
 
 ^^'■,^il 
 
368 
 
 ALICE; OR. THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 Every state of life haq ifsj f1nf;r.o. 
 
 himself the Judge of wLttt I'st" SL""' kT' ^ 
 
 ful, that ho acknowledges the precept, 'never to he 
 
 XinrrtZt'-trrni-s^^^^^^^^ 
 
 ref«. even to exercise the gifts he hi.afpl''i;"„-» 
 
 JMow, these arguments have been vprv t^^L,. ■ 
 Placce they have heen old and W JjiJ otherthe?''""' 
 app-r too much to appertain to the",: ^T fcf 
 «r t prmcplcs. Yet from such arguments pro and L 
 Mlees I greatly mistake, arc to be dcrivfd ! i, ' 
 «quaUy practical and sublime, J^hc virtu rf"""""'' 
 obhgations of genius, and tie philosophvlh" toa'cw: 
 ^J. conMe in the destinie. Ju^rl^^,::^- 
 
an must be 
 It is quite 
 s to be use- 
 ever to bo 
 CO fostered, 
 '. after fair 
 y for their 
 liat he has 
 'sorb, must 
 • when he 
 isesses. " 
 5: in some 
 they may 
 theory of 
 and con, 
 ^corollaries 
 ction, the 
 t teaches 
 ervice, of 
 
 ALICE; OK, THE MVSTEitlEa. 
 
 369 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 rU tell you presently her very picture : 
 Stay-ye8,iti8 8o--Lelia. 
 
 The Captain, Act \. Sc. 1. 
 
 Maltravkrs had not shrunk into a system of false 
 
 But when hi, „,i„d began restlessly to turn once 
 more towards the duties of active lite; when h^c^kd 
 a 1 the former drudgeries and toils of political cluct 
 or the wearing fatigues of literature, with it sl^i 
 
 .0. trttgits^oit-ii •a!:i^rr^i:t"''tj 
 
 console in d^ection, no heart to sympl" ' J^^^h 
 
 r ::: :rr.a::rr:ifra^:i:-£ 
 
 It may, indeed, be generally remarked (contrary to * 
 common notion) that the men who are most halv at 
 home are the most active abroad TV,. , ^^ 
 
 Xhe hermit IS the antipodes of the citizen; and no '^ 
 animate and inspire us like the Lares. ^ 
 
 24 
 
 'iJ 
 
 I 
 
 / . 1 :;; 
 
370 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 &! 
 
 One evening, after an absence from P„r;. t 
 
 f fortnight, at De Montaigne's villa iff '\"f^ 
 
 Jiood of St rin.irl \T 11 ' " "'^ neighbor- 
 
 " oi oi. oioud, Maltravers, who fl,n..f,i, i 
 
 longer practised the art. was not lelfond H ^ , "° 
 
 fore of music, was seat d in Madam '^'^^'f^^"" 
 
 With ^::z:j:^;z^^Zn r r^^^n-^' 
 
 young English lady who. sXdTeLt Lta" '^ 
 the preceding evening: _ ^ ^ ^ 
 
 fairness of the complexion nor Z ^ ° "'"'"'"'' 
 «hich the dark lai^el";™ rom ttelu ""'^'^ ■""'• 
 to the light eves of th. «!„ . I , „ wldness common 
 
 beautifufly ^Itl^l^^^^T' ''^' - - 
 unconsciousness of admiration T« ^ f "''*"''''• *^« 
 sense of the expressLn No' f hI'"'"^^^^ '""^^^ty and 
 beautiful, but I never «'«» ' ''^ '"'" ^°"^«n more 
 
 -y complimL to yo^cXwC;-^- '^ ^^'"''^ ^°^ 
 
 « Yo ! „ ""^ '° '^f '^''^ ^" *^^* wonderful Pasta " 
 Butt ^::mt^iJ^- ^'°"«^^« - ^- -y. 
 and her fr ends tthfZ '^* "^ '^^^ ^*-"g- 
 Doltimore, whom llnel hetl ' TJ'"!, "^ '^ ^^^^ 
 iug about him; in the nextf ^' ~ ^ u "'''^ "^^ "«*h- 
 bride, handsom^. Lk h^ ' '' ^'' "ew-married 
 
 « Tf ^7; ~~ "^"^ you are not well f " 
 
 It was the draueht frnm t\.^ j 
 
 yo«-the ,om,g 4; fSlitdiTerr:'/.'"^"'- 
 
 tohe^irAr:5;rstr^"'t™-«-^ 
 
 The marriage is broken „ff f***™™' ^"^ Vargrave. 
 
 -eofaLtai„:trc^i;rLtjj,^SL^:^: 
 
s of nearly 
 neighbor- 
 ugl» lie 110 
 lian liereto- 
 /^entatlour's 
 was above 
 3-patiatiiig 
 'larms of a 
 ■y G '8 
 
 3 English 
 exquisite 
 rely blue, 
 s common 
 hat are so 
 ^nner, the 
 iesty and 
 nen more 
 You are 
 eturn for 
 
 ta— » 
 ar away, 
 stranger 
 a Lord 
 ly noth- 
 married 
 
 beseech 
 
 ALICE; on, THE MYSTEKIKS. 371 
 
 melancholy I am sure not natural to its Hebe-like ex- 
 
 Engli""""^^' '^ ^°^^' ^^-« - ^»- beautiful 
 
 And Maltravcrs raised his eyes, and once more beheld 
 the countenance of Evelyn Cameron. 
 
 ingaged 
 rgrave. 
 be the 
 36, —a 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
 AiKTiffis iyvm \6yuv 1j\et. 
 
 »oi'u. : CtJdip. Tyran. 681. 
 
 Word» of dark import gave suspicion birth. — Potter. 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
 CHAPTER -. 
 
 Luce. Is the wind there t 
 That makes for me 
 /*a6. Come, -I forget a business. 
 
 Wit without Money. 
 
 « y1! ; ^''^''' ^"'"S "^^'^ "^« country ? » 
 
 "memory is not so good !. it Z 7 ^^ ''^''' ^^ 
 Lisle Court is in —shTre W. "' ^'' '"' ^^^' 
 wUhin ten miles of C-1-!" ^' ^^" '"" P««« 
 
 C— » — ^I shall T? T 
 geography of Endan/ 7 "°', "'"='' ^"*«<1 m ths 
 
 A. fof Poland^'tiX.lrc'r 1,1°' '*°°'- 
 any other place as tn wi.; i i , ''^o, Madagascar, or 
 
 I have evS; inch of tt I^""''' "°"^^^ ^"^ ^^^Z'^^' 
 
 '^/'^•^/.o. of C_ it is tL?'' ''."^ '^"Ser'.s end. BuJ 
 n^ade his fortune.'' '''" ''^ ^^^^^^ "^^ ^^^^ "^cle 
 
 c— ''b:;'gfv; it zttr r *^ ^^^^ ^^°^ ^- 
 
 you. Have vo^, «! • I ^^""«'^' very handsome in 
 «T fif- T ^ ^ '"*^''''''* "lere still? " 
 
376 
 
 .t 
 
 U V 
 
 ri? 
 
 hi 
 
 ALICE; OR, THM MYSTKRIKS. 
 
 PI'ice. I had intended sonic weeks icm in r, 
 ;'ov.n there, and seen what intere t w fst II ^I?""^ 
 f'U'nly; but Staunch himself told me tl ! r °"'' 
 
 a sure card." ""^^ ^ was 
 
 " So he thought; but he has been wifh n,o ft,- 
 '"g in great alarm: he now ihuT \ ^f *^'' "'"''^■ 
 
 out. A Mr. Wins ev Z T ° ''^''^'^ '^"^ ""'""•" 
 
 there, and ^aJ^^^^^J^l^i:;; f^^' f-J ^^ interest 
 
 of the question T ' f "°' '^"'^^ "" ''^^^^""t 
 
 auite with 4 atd f he :;;: t: "f '' ^^f^'^""^'^ '^ 
 most unfortunate » '^"^ ''^''' >* ^^«»Id be 
 
 «.n^'r;TeLr::jL-;:4n """'"■- ''«-'■'»"<' 
 
 plelon Committee. I fc„„ v 2' T "' "'" T™- 
 
 «w the man." *' '"'™' ">oi.gh I never 
 
 ;; If you could take i„ your way ! •• 
 
 weisht,-ei,ie„Tttr;:"iri7:?"i 
 
 C on pretence of seeintr «ffo. ^*°P ^* 
 
 «d have a quiet couferonrf-ith MrTirf^ ■■?;""■ 
 Peers must not interfere i„ I? . ^'^insloy. Hemt 
 
 good-by; take eare of y ,r elf fT;,-'"' ^'"l'. 
 week, I hope.-perhaps S» ' *"" ""> "»* '" • 
 
 In a minute more Lord Vo„ 
 Frederick Augustus HowanI 7T '''^ '^'- ^^^^^^ 
 of high birth and conneottr\ ™ ^''""^ gentleman 
 Portion'ess cadet^rown '.T; to m"/"'- '^r^"' «^ ^ 
 condescended to be his In Jif- ° ^^'' '" *^" ^^^Id, 
 
 were rattling over the itefi '/ ^^^ ""^'"^"^ 
 ^ It was late at night win lord V '' '' ^~^ 
 the head inn of that J / Margrave arrived at 
 
 >'"■.''-, and politician, had o.eSrhis'dlcCL'; 
 
 iii 
 
have gone 
 left to our 
 
 ALICK ; (m, TJIK MYSTEIUES. 
 
 — was 
 
 this niorn- 
 he thrown 
 3f interest 
 3n account 
 itaunch is 
 would be 
 
 jght-hand 
 the Tem- 
 ' I never 
 
 We can- 
 
 of such 
 
 stop at 
 
 houses, 
 
 Hem! 
 
 Well, 
 
 ick in a 
 
 George 
 ^tleman 
 gi as a 
 
 world, 
 
 itary — 
 
 ived at 
 
 thedral 
 
 saint, 
 
 atorial 
 
 sway. Sic transit nUrh, ?«,/»,;; i a i. 
 
 hands by tlie fire in H.o 1 "^^ ^"^ '^«"'^'^J his 
 
 which he was si o^nTu r' ^'^TT^ '-^^^^^'"-^ '"^o 
 -g of his unci ;•;, TroTof'^'^'^^'.-^'^Sth ongrav- 
 
 ;--t foraparli;n.:Xtirfortrt " '^ ''"''~ 
 the neighborhoo.1 of C_ tI "'^*"™I"1^« trusts in 
 
 his recollections of tl.nf ,..• ' ! "^'''* ^'"""ht back 
 
 an.1 insensibly he ni!/?i '"^^ ''^'"">"^" '''^l^tion; 
 bed. and to tl^ tranL « ' \ T-^''^'^ «'^" *^ '''« ^-^th- 
 he had reveal dt^ J 7^ ^f^^^^' j" "-* last hour, 
 nuich in deenenim, T ]^^~ ''''''^^"^'' had done 
 
 ?o™.andcr2^;i:^r::;^--^^ 
 
 It may be mentioned- thour,,' "^ ^'"' 
 
 volume a penetrating reade it ''"''' "^ ^'^^^ 
 
 -that whatever th!t ^Lr. I V r' ^"'^''^'"'^ ^^ ""'«h 
 
 orexclusively tothe I' '' "'' ''^'' "'^''"^^ 
 
 "carriage. iCon tt , o / ^'^"^^^ "^^ ^'^--^^teJ 
 
 curiosity was very viv^c io" '' But 7 ^""^ ^^'^«^« 
 little interest TT« /' '°"'' ^"* on this he felt but 
 
 ther inW tionfould Welt? ^^'"^^^ ^'"^^ "« ^- 
 should he trouble hst/r'fP"''""""^'- Why 
 his pockets r ''^ ''^'^ "'^'^' ^«-^r would fill 
 
 vatr^;^:/rrt^if ^ ''"- ---^^y --d w 
 
 huloreXy' '""it 'fs'aT' '"^'^''" ^^^^ ^'^' g-^" 
 
 Lady Macbeth says ^ h t ,^r^^^^' ^ hed,' as 
 devil of a thane w^ 1 ' ^ ^ '''°"^"' *h« Poor 
 tigress. Good^nlht tZZr""' "^ ''' ^^"^ ^'^ « 
 
378 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 
 :*' It 
 
 ll< 
 
 h- f 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Ma fortune va prendre une face nonvelle.i 
 
 Racink ; Androm., Act. i. So. 1. 
 
 heard LorJ Varcra ■.', „7,™ , *»'"*<' '"I'M he 
 
 cause of grudee in f).« • 7 ^ , ^* ^^^^^ ^^^^ some 
 Mr. Wi,S X hti ,1 'V™f ^ "^°' °« "iJ 
 of ito perilous Tuff. '*''"■ '" '='""»^ "^ ho^m 
 
 howto tcZ.™: -r*' ''°"°'' "^ ''''^' I ^»'' know 
 
 "Humph I I certainly did do all Jn r«„ 
 promote Mr. Templeton's interests 1^ ^T'' *° 
 «ay, did more; and yet I Inn' fi,-?^^ •""'"' ^ "^'^^ 
 ";ought of the' momen h turn d Ms b^V"" ""' 
 electors of C Not fUf t T ^""'^ "P^'^ ^he 
 
 'My fortune is about to take a turn. 
 
Act. i. Sc. 1. 
 
 ay to Mr. 
 le brewer, 
 xl. 
 
 th a civil 
 vvhen he 
 itli great 
 ^vas some 
 ; nor did 
 is bosom 
 
 a't know 
 
 my late 
 
 pologize 
 
 to his 
 
 ower to 
 I may 
 3 much 
 )on the 
 ; I am 
 I's, my 
 
 uncia 
 
 ^^-''^rlryJ^t'tdS^ 
 
 " ^'o. 1 am much obi td I ' ''' u ^^'"^ ' " 
 ««t this little matter r !d V""', "' ^'^ ^^""^ '""«* 
 carriage, my uncle nev.-r ,• •'! ^"^'' *^^^' ^^^^r his 
 shortly before his deaJh X", ""—' ^"^ ''^^' 
 interest in this city m. \ ^'''^^'''' P«^t of his 
 
 the neighborhood of I ondon'"rnV'1'' ^ ^"^P"^*^' ^^^cd 
 men do marry, you knw tl'v ' / T '^'"^^ ^entle- 
 inasters; but if you ha^I . "° ^""8^^ ^^eir own 
 
 then, indeed. n/ulI^l;J«/-- ^^ T^^'.lham. ^ah. 
 old friend." ''''^^ ^**^« rejoiced to see his 
 
 " Your lordship think« ^n " c -7 ^r 
 a sardonic smile '"ytx 1 . f'' ^^"^^'^y' ^^th 
 Fulham. and though I ,«" T^^^''^"' ' '^^ -" ^^ 
 grave's servant (he was tW ^r T '^'^' ^^^^^ ^'ar- 
 word that his lorLhijr^^^^^^ brought back 
 
 depepV^tr^^-^eentrue^hoLo^^^ 
 
 ^niCta^::;^^^^ 
 
 "v'r^stnttdeecirCtl^^^^^ 
 i^^ Ah! perh!p's thelealth of riT '" "^^""* ^- 
 f very delicate then and 1 ^ ''^''"^•- '^' ^^« 
 her; you know that he left a"^ I T' T^' ^'''^ ^'^ 
 Cameron?" ^''" ^" his fortune to Miss 
 
 "Miss Cameron! Who i« oV,« 
 
3S0 
 
 '* '. 
 
 « 
 
 h ! 
 
 ALICE; oi:, THE MYSTEltlES. 
 
 girls to play — " ^"® '^"g^i* my 
 
 ^^o„r giria! Did Mr,. Cameron ever reside in 
 
 "To be sure; but sh^ was then called Mrs R„M., 
 just as pretty a name, to my fancy '• Butler,- 
 
 .adi^irzir;." ""^^^^ '°^™* --^o «>« 
 
 B:;.rur er*trbe'r^;r °«r '^- " ^- 
 
 before Mr. TemplctoA married » «"■'• '"""^ """' 
 
 i'^ritr ™Brrof 1' '"""r'^ ^"'""^. '»- 
 
 Butler and Mrs. Camer" aron'e"! V™ """ ''^■ 
 you did notRo into the h„ *° """^ P'''»°"» 
 
 -n Lady Cr te"' "(anTheTeTT" T '■°™ 
 guossed-if the tale were true »,r^^ *"'°""^ 
 uncle's exclusion of hi! „7t '"' '="''° °' W^ 
 
 win^ ;,'':itV:i,:rf f ''■™ "■^ '"™-"-m m. 
 
 the porter a the lot ^1 ^ ™" i '''°' ' '*'='' 
 VargLve, and he a f > r'^^:! ' " *" T "^^"^ 
 gones are byaones- 11. H°™ver, my lord, by- 
 
 a good manfandifle 1 d"ut •^",' '""' "''* ™ 
 don.t say a 'word abtt "'"bS",!'" T' '-T'"^''^' 
 reckoned on me just as mu* as w k in^™? ' ^™ 
 ■.e used to put «ve thousand pound Tn' my' a^X^ 
 
known that 
 
 incle never 
 
 fortune or 
 
 gentleman, 
 
 she had a 
 taught my 
 
 reside in 
 
 Butler, — 
 
 rried this 
 
 '. "Mrs. 
 ome time 
 
 ley, fore- 
 hat JVTrs. 
 ' person ? 
 not have 
 shrewdly 
 e of his 
 
 aid Mr. 
 I asked 
 IS Lady 
 3rd, by- 
 cle Was 
 '"insley, 
 it have 
 ections 
 is, and 
 
 ALICE ; OK, THE MYSTEIilES. 
 
 ^^ go J 
 
 say.'WinsIey, no bribery, ^ it i,,,., , , 
 
 given in charity.' mi .' "'^cked; let this bo 
 
 '"oney went? Was vour f T' "''"' ^''"^ ^«^ that 
 -Ption?--But, „;;^^7 -;^; -- —I of eor- 
 refreshment?" ^ ' '"''^^ ^^^ ^^i^l take soiuo 
 
 "No, indeed; but if you will l.f 
 to-morrow, you'll obligfL" "J,f. "'^^^^^ ^^th you 
 uncle's faults (and latterlv n ' """^ ^^^^^tever my 
 
 his senses: what a Wit e ^7,^;^' ^' ^^« ^^^^.V '" 
 suffer for them. ■ Jome V; W ' ^^' ""' *^« ^^P^-^ 
 held out his handT^ht^hS^'" T' ^"'"^^^ 
 know my motives are disinter Ted T r^"^^^' " ^^^^ 
 nientary interest to serve .:^vvr ''^' "'' P'^^^^^" 
 
 our Hospital of Incurable. ,'? '°"'"'"«^t« ^^r 
 
 we're fdends, I se 'now T T"^' ''''''' ^'ght: 
 
 n^y v/ard's houses. Let me. ".V"'' ^" '"'^ ^^^^ ^^^er 
 is _ » -^^^ "^e «ee, the agent'a name is _ 
 
 ^^:^'si:^, z ^ :fv """ ^^-^^^' 
 
 and manner. « Let me nnf . f Margrave's words 
 
 his house." ^''^ '^^ "^y hat, and show you 
 
 elect]In^^:rbyT^r r \^^^^ '- ^" ^^« 
 Within an ace of\etg Z merber''>^^ ' ''^ -« 
 
 pa^xrrJsvs:: bX- t^^^?,^^'^^ ^-"- 
 
 homely mode of life at C ^""^^.^^^^hle habits and 
 to explain to him wliv hi™ J , '"'^'^ completely 
 - carefully abstaS f^orail ^^^^^^^^ "-^e haj 
 city, and had prevented tZ „^" /^^'^^^"^^e with that 
 its vacant reprUta 1 T. " ^". ^'^"^^"^ ^- 
 Winsley^wh'ose reselment' l fnTt 'of'r^^^' *^^' 
 or violent kind — had not nnn "^ ""^^y ^^^ive 
 
 he had made to li feCrrr!!!' ^J^! ^^— y 
 
 ■townspeople, but had 
 
 con- 
 
382 
 
 ALICE J OK, THE MYSTEKIES. 
 
 Mr 
 
 'V. 
 
 gravo tho ugl, suTfnsM at flrst, l.ad but littl. doubt on 
 o,,,,de,at,„„ espociaUy wl,„u ,.c h.a,J tb„t 5ta But- 
 It. » pnncpal patroness had boen tlio ![«. Loslio now 
 the ,„t,mate friond of Lady Vargravc. But „Lt H 
 be., the ea„o^ what the cariicr condition a^d sT:i: 
 
 P a"l Tr"" """"'"'8 ™'"""' With he°r ap: 
 tav r t?~, ■=™'»«"'»'l »" that surmise could 
 nuout Not greater wus the mystery that wranued the 
 
 Weary, and somewhat careless, of coniecfcure Tnrri 
 
 v^SoTutn'rr"'' ""'■ ^^""'=^' '"-'' "■.■et ' 
 
 T^Tu^.'zr-"''''''- "■' -^'"^^ p- 
 
 ert7"°.T4™ ""' " ^"^ «"«' J'«'S« of landed prop- 
 erty, aaid V.,rgrave; « I wish I knew of an experienZl 
 
 hXr t °t """"^ '''™' -"^ timber Tayt 
 neip me to such a one?" v^-^j-uu 
 
 Mr. Winsley smiled, and glanced at a rosv-cheekpd 
 young lady, who simpered an5 turned awar"^' I hink 
 2 t^> -'''' -----' - to you^lordshipr^ 
 "Oh, pa!" 
 
 Miss Winsley made an e£fort. 
 
ALICE; OK, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 383 
 
 -anj a fair wife l„ |,i,„, "' ""' "'" t'""'! li^alll,, 
 
 Miss Winslcy i.|n„ci.il nt . 
 yo.".Sor ,i.tcr, and r.„ ,,, "'""' ""'' «'«" "' « 
 
 and Pu»lu';^. le^th ^'"' """"'"« '»"■«". 
 
 'he r„com,„e„dati'„, ™ ;" I " J"'"" "■'«'-' "' 
 Koto Hobta i„af w 7Z Tf ,"'" ■" *r,., 
 more acute, intellkront ,, "»■— f"' I J" not know a 
 
 lately dead, and made ,t I ,, '"""■ '''" '"'her is 
 
 ««. Hi; r.roZm^:^,'T '"T' P^-'J" '■' 
 
 I'-lk of the property a" 1 1 tn ', "° '" '"" ""- 
 merely for amuslen LZ ' '"' P«fesdo„ 
 
 honor." ■"" """'J oonsider it a great 
 
 " And where does he live ) " 
 —'buT';";"', oo-ty along «, off, ,,„,^ .„ 
 nice house he has „o IT 'f ^'P'^ ■■°'«>- A very 
 ^i wasa hoy: it il U^]^^ M '"°"' ™'™ 
 *e place; it was a poor litL W, f '" ""P"™'' 
 when the lale Mr H„l,h '""" ""'-""J-plnsler cottage 
 
 "oellent fa,„i" house •' "**" "•""'""' »»>" » very 
 
 " Well, you shall give me f]iP o,i i 
 introduction, and so ZT !f^^'''' ""^ ^ ^^t^or of 
 
 »-nV;vor!^ttc:Td^e"Zr^-2 
 
'srjij 
 
 if 
 
 4 
 
 384 
 
 ALICE; on, Till-; mystkkiks. 
 
 utter annihilation the possibility of which he had never 
 even suspected before. 
 
 It may be as well to add tliat, on wishing Lord Var- 
 ymve good-night. Mr. Winsley whispered in his ear, 
 Your lordship's friend, Lord Staunch, need be under 
 no appreliension, — we are all right! " 
 
i had never 
 
 ALICE; OH. TIIK MYSTKHIES. 
 
 385 
 
 Lord Var- 
 iii his ear, 
 1 be under 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 This is the hniiRn Bt> r . r... 
 
 '' '"■- lore's PUgrimar/e, Act iv. S- 2 
 
 Redeunt Saturnia regna.! _ Vikoil. 
 
 ^ ^r:5d^'rrTr' ''- ^^-^- --po- 
 teen years acowrvw ,'"'"' '"''"^^ "" ^^^^'^ «i-^- 
 
 first mot with CCli" T """^' ^^•^'^ ^^-^' '"-J 
 opera-daneorasth^/^l-J;^-:^^^^^^ 
 
 which was inscribed this eZ 1 «C ft' "" 
 Ring the Bell." •^P'grapn,— Hobls's Lodge — 
 
 " A snug place enough, " said l.nvA \r 
 
 were waiting the arrival of the f ^'''^"' ""' ^^'^ 
 
 gate. °* *^« ^ootn^an to unbar the 
 
 "Yes," said Mr. Howard " T* i- , ^ 
 
 be transformed into a 7 /" ''^""^ ^'^ «o»Id 
 
 would be." ' ^"""^'^ '^'^ '« the house he 
 
 But Tha^;!: v^/X ''^ '""^ r P"^^^^ -^ P-- f 
 romantic. Sine llice\T'"°"^^'^ '' ^^" ^ the 
 her wistful eystim 1 ^T^^ *" that cold graung 
 
 vviui inm,— he was engaged. 
 
 A former state of things returns. 
 85 
 
wm 
 
 »-% 
 
 n . • 
 
 386 
 
 ALICK; OR, TItK MYSTEKrES. 
 
 Lonl VarRmvo sPMl „. his card an.l tho introrh.ctory lot- 
 or from Air. U insk-y. In tw„ socoiuLs tlu..so mi.ives 
 J.rought to tho Kate Mr. KolM-rt Hubbn himself: a smart 
 yonriK man, with a hlac.k .st-.ck, ro.l whiskers, and an 
 .T<*-ghi.ss peu.kMit to a hair-d.ain ^v■hic•h was possibly a 
 !/af/e U amour fn.m Miss Margaret Winsh-y 
 
 A profusion of bows, compliments, apologies, etc.. 
 the carnage drove up the sweep, and Lord Vargrave de. 
 scended, and was immediately usiiered into Afr. Hobbs's 
 private rcKim. The slim secretary followed, an.l sat silent 
 melancholy, and upright, while the peer affably explained 
 his wants and wishes to the surveyor. 
 
 Mr. nobl« M-as well acquainted with tho locality of 
 Lislo Court, which was littL. more than thirty niiles 
 distant; he should be prouu to accompany Lord Var- 
 grave thither the next morning. But might ho venture. 
 u.ght ho dare, might he presume -a gentleman wh^ 
 hved at the town of _ was to dine 'with him that 
 day: a gentleman of the most profound knowledge of 
 agricultural affairs; a gentleman who knew every farm 
 almost every acre, belonging to Colonel Maltravers: if 
 his lordship could be induced to waive ceremony Ind 
 dine wi h Mr. Hobbs, it might be really useful to meet 
 this gentleinan. The slim secretary, who was very hun- 
 gry, and who thought he sniffed an uncommonly u.-ory 
 smell looked up from hi. boots. Lord Varorave 
 smiled. o"t>'^ 
 
 "My young friend here is too great an admirer of Mrs 
 Hobbs,- who IS to be, -not to feel anxious to make the 
 acquaintance of any members of the family she is to 
 
 '^".P.orge Frederick Augustus Howard blushed in- 
 oSn- !;■-"'''' '^ ^^' calumnious charge. Vai^rave 
 
xlnctory It^t- 
 :'HC mi.s.sives 
 elf: a smart 
 ers, and an 
 i possibly a 
 
 Jgie.s, etc., 
 argmve de- 
 Ir. Hobbs's 
 1 Kat sileixt 
 r explained 
 
 locality of 
 lii'ty miles 
 Lord Var- 
 e venture, 
 !man who 
 liini that 
 wledge of 
 ery farm, 
 ravers; if 
 nony and 
 il to meet 
 /■ery hnn- 
 ly ...ivory 
 Vargrav- 
 
 r of Mrs. 
 make the 
 she is to 
 
 ished in- 
 Vargrave 
 
 ALICE ; (Mi, THE MY.STEKIKS. ;;.S7 
 
 »/yt::;„7ait!t,';„si''r ■"""' -^ '■■'■■■■■'» 
 
 lior.,e, for gj. oVIn^V '"'"' "" '" "''J"' 'l™ 
 
 X.U »ix dock to-morrow W*. Ml i... i r - . 
 
 Lisle Court." breakfawt at 
 
 'tog dre.o, wet cZ J7:f '™ .°''"'""""»- ''''"cl. 
 the fah overlL. 3 , ;° """■ ''"' I"*' »"J 
 
 wh^ , '""' •i""' ""-Kl'' "uclia bk. one! Of 
 
 t"' Hh^T" "° '"°"''' '"" '""-f"'"' '"Jove 1 A 
 
 famishing guests. ^^P^ctant family and the 
 
 During the expiring bachelorship of Mr Robert Hrl l 
 his sister. Mv<^ T\,\.u, n i , ^ooert Hobbs, 
 
 ;-.es.4ei4rtr2r.r^,r:r" 
 
 111 a jaundiced satinet tfown wifl. « f ii , '™"\^«otli,— 
 
 a"aatuokero.t,,e.Lr'Mr^j-urLt"::i>r™" 
 
li 
 
 388 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 and not vv-illing that the luxuriant cliarms of Mrs T 
 should be too temptingly exposed. There was also Mr.' 
 liddy, whom his wife had married for love, and who 
 was now well to do. -a fine-looking man. with iZl 
 whiskers, and a Roman nose a little'awry. ' Mo e "f 
 there was a Miss Biddy or Bridget Hobbs,'-- young lady 
 of four or five and twenty, who was considering JJZ 
 he might ask Lord Vargrave to write something in he' 
 ^^Ibum. and who cast a bashful look of admiration at the 
 s hm seere ary as he now sauntered into the room, in a 
 black coat, black waistcoat, black trousers, and black 
 
 cittiittir'^"'^^-^^^^^^^^ 
 
 cane spl t halfway up. Miss Biddy was a fair young 
 
 ItLl '/''^'' "'"^ ^-^^^--^only thin arms' "d 
 white satin shoes, on which the slim secretary cast his 
 eyes and — shuddered. ^ 
 
 In addition to the family group were the rector of 
 
 an agreeable man. who published sermons and poetry- 
 ISO Sir William Jekyll. who was employing Mr. Hobbs' 
 o make a map of an estal. he had just purchas d a so 
 two country squires and their two wives ,' moreov'; t^^e 
 physician of the neighboring town. - a remarkablv tdl 
 man, who wore spectacles and told :necdotesTand.ts"y 
 
 r!ferr?d 1 en T"^"^^*^ ^''^"^ ^^- ^obbs had 
 reterred,--an elderly man of prepossessing exterior of 
 
 SerTnd II' T t^^^"* '^^^'''''^' '^^'^^ 
 ood. This made the party, to each individual of which 
 
 secretaiy bent condescendingly three joints of his back- 
 
 WmL^f tTiT:^' rung, -dinner announced. Sir 
 WUiam Jekyll led the way with one of the she-squires 
 aiid^^Lord Vargrave offered his arm to the portly' Zl 
 
 -IE 
 
s of Mrs. T. 
 was also Mr. 
 ve, and who 
 I, with large 
 Moreover, 
 ' young lady 
 ring whether 
 thing in hei- 
 ration at the 
 e room, in a 
 , cand black 
 ike an ebony 
 fair young 
 I arms and 
 iry cast his 
 
 tor of ., 
 
 •nd poetry; 
 Mr. Hobbs 
 based; also 
 •reover, the 
 irkably tall 
 and, lastly, 
 Hobbs had 
 ixterior, of 
 1 the best 
 
 neighbor- 
 il of which 
 reat man's 
 
 his back- 
 iced. Sir 
 le-squires, 
 Ttly Mrs. 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 339 
 
 grave, m™ ,h/i°f '°™'' '""' "'"-1 '» LorJ Var. 
 naturally upon Emeitt^ couversation turned 
 
 -csr„/t;££°v?-^^^^^^^^ 
 
 I w.» 8«ti;i„t,t ^:''L'T„t'"'° °=™™ 
 
 young (for he was th™ J,. T\ °™' '" ™» »» 
 
 deep," W theZ Xtv^refeirtf"' '°*'"«' "° 
 ance with him mn,t 1,7 ^' J""" "equaint. 
 
 after mine. Was he ..7, T"'™"''' ^^ *°--«y 
 spirits I" "' """ '""■= *eerful,_in good 
 
 ^^•' No, indeed, -hypoohondria«.l to the greatest de- 
 
 Lumley paused to considpr' ^r,ri +i,- 
 which had been r.r,.; ,'^''''' '^^^ ^^^^is conversation, 
 
 into by the tal dol T "^'''' "'^ ^"^^^^^'^^ broken 
 lordshfptad t tarc^^^^^^^^^^^ ^ 'r "'^^^^^^ '"^ 
 low and the late Kir The Til" '^'"' ^'"^ '^^''''■ 
 doctor himself an^ tl. ^^'^''''^^^' '^^^ as long as the 
 ^' '"'^ ^'^^'^ '^ ^^as over, the gentlemen 
 
p ■ 
 
 i ■ 
 
 i 
 
 If/ 
 
 390 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 adjourned to the drawing-room, and all conversation was 
 immediately drown.^d by "Row, brothers, row," which 
 had only been suspended till the arrival of Mr. Tiddv 
 who had a fine bass voice. ' 
 
 Alas! eighteen years ago, in that spot of earth, Alice 
 Darvil had first caught the soul of music from the lips 
 of genius and of love ! But better as it is, _ less roman- 
 tic, but more proper, -as Hobbs's Lodge was less pretty 
 but more safe from the winds and rains, than Dale 
 Cottage. 
 
 Miss Bridget ventured to ask the good-humored Lord 
 Vargrave if he sang. " Not I, Miss Hobbs ; but Howard, 
 there -ah, if you heard him/ " The consequence of 
 this hint was that the unhappy secretary, who, alone in 
 a distant corner, was unconsciously refreshing his fancy 
 with some cool, weak coffee, was instantly beset with 
 applications from Miss Bridget, Mrs. Tiddy, Mr Tiddy 
 and the tall doctor, to favor the company with a speci- 
 men of his talents. Mr. Howard could sing, - he could 
 even play- the guitar. But to sing at Hobbs's Lodge, to 
 smg to the accompaniment of Mrs. Tiddy, to have his 
 gentle tenor crushed to death in a glee by the heavy 
 splayfoot of Mr. Tiddy's manly bass, -the thought was 
 msulferable! He faltered forth assurances of his igno- 
 rance, and hastened to bury his resentment in the retire- 
 ment of a remote sofa. Vargrave, who had forgotten the 
 significant question of Mr. Onslow, renewed in a whis- 
 per his conversation with that gentleman relative to the 
 meditated investment, while Mr. and Mrs. Tiddy sang 
 Come dwell with me; " and Onslow was so pleased with 
 his new acquaintance that he volunteered to make a 
 fourth m Lumloy's carriage the next morning, and ac- 
 company him to Lisle Court. This settled, the party 
 soon afterwards broke up. At midnight Lord Vargrave 
 
 gf aaiiwii, 
 
^ersation was 
 row, " which 
 Mr. Tiddy, 
 
 earth, Alice 
 rom the lips 
 
 - less roman- 
 i less pretty, 
 
 than Dale 
 
 tnored Lord 
 tut Howard, 
 sequence of 
 10, alone in 
 g his fancy 
 beset with 
 Mr. Tiddy, 
 ith a speci- 
 
 — he could 
 5 Lodge, to 
 have his 
 
 the heavy 
 lought was 
 • his igno- 
 
 the retire- 
 'gotton the 
 in a whis- 
 tive to the 
 iddy sang, 
 eased with 
 3 make a 
 f, and ac- 
 the party 
 
 Vargravo 
 
 ALICE ; OK, THE MYSTEKJES. 39^ 
 
 21 f^^^t^n^^lf 1 ''°r' ^--g -tlessly to 
 tares forth among J^men'a, who ven- 
 
 " The Antliropophagi, and men whose heads 
 Do grow beneath their shoulders ! " 
 
392 
 
 ALICE; OK, THE MYSTEKIES. 
 
 ■'• 'I 
 
 CHAl'TER IV. 
 
 But how wore these .lonl.ts to be change.I into absolute 
 certainty i ~ Ki>oak Hinti.ky. 
 
 The next morning, wl.ile it was yet .l«rk, Lord Var- 
 grave s carnage picked up Mr. Onslow at the door of a 
 large old-fash.oued huune, at tlie entrance of tl.e n.anu- 
 
 H^^epy till they arrived at Lisle Court: the .sun ha<l 
 then appeared; tl»e morning was clear, the air fro.stv 
 and bracing And as. after traversing a nohle pari- a 
 superb quadrangular pile of brick, flanke<l by g. 
 square turrets coped with stone, broke upon the gaze tf 
 Lord Vargrave, his worldly heart swelle.l within h m 
 
 grl?eWr!v.VT"'"'r "" "''^ P^^P'^^^^ f- Var- 
 UdUy expected: the logs soon burned bright in the 
 ample hearth of the breakfast-room, the urn hissed t le 
 cutles smoked; and while the re.st of the p ty"athe 
 round the fire, and unmuffied themselves of cbaks and 
 shawl-handkerchiefs. Vargrave, seizing upon the house 
 
 suite of rooms, gazed on the pictures, a.lmired the- state 
 bed chambers, peeped into the offices, and recognized in 
 .^11 a mansion woithy of a peer of England; but whi 
 a more prudent man would have thought, with a st 
 required careful management of the renVr 11 ra ed from 
 
^'"■";; Olt, TM|.; MVSTKUIKS. .{,,3 
 
 :t;:rr':rt,:":!;;:i'; ,«-- 
 
 I"ok„l „„„ HliKl.t ,,1,1,?' '•'"" ''■' '"■'"■'•I.V "V..I- 
 .1 r„f,,„,l' V ' '; '" "■'" K"«P'«t, .-.. II... .I„t„r- 
 
 "f II." I.r.,,«>,ty tl,„ ,„ XI 1,1 ",""" '''"""" I'""" 
 
 I.o.n„ t„,li ,„, wl,, , ; ,:1, 'l' '""■'* """" '""""''"I! 
 
 tl.« ro«,-l„„f „,„l.r„» „,^ ^' ,''".""'"" "'"..I'l.. 
 
 .layorolLr." ' "^S"™' """" '"' J"'". "„w,ml, somo 
 " Alit » c, -1 'if ' '<"""r H itmxiin." 
 

 IV 
 
 394 
 
 ALICE; OK, TliK MYSTERIES. 
 
 "Why, the place — then called Dale Cottage — he- 
 longed to a Mr. Berners, a rich bachelor in business, 
 who was rich enough not to mind what people said of 
 him, and kept a lady there. She ran oiF from him, and 
 he then let it to some young man : a stranger, — very 
 eccentric, I hear, a Mr. — Mr. Butler; and he too 
 gave the cottage an unlawful attraction, — a most beau- 
 tiful girl, I have heard." 
 
 " Butler! " eclioed Vargrave, — " Butler — Butler! " 
 Lumley recollected that such had been the real name 
 of Mrs. Cameron. 
 
 Onslow looked hard at Vargrave. 
 "You recognize the name, my lord," said he, in a 
 whisper, as Hobbs had turned to address himself to 
 Mr. Howard. " I thought you very discreet when I 
 asked you, last night, if you remembered the early follies 
 of your friend." A suspicion at once flashed upon the 
 quick mind of Vargrave: Butler was a name on the 
 mother's side in the family of Maltravers. The gloom of 
 Ernest when he first knew him; the boy's hints that the 
 gloom was connected with the affections; the extraor- 
 dinary and single accomplishment of Lady Vargrave in 
 that art of which Maltravers was so consummate a mas- 
 ter; the similarity of name, —all taken in conjunction 
 with the meaning question of Mr. Onslow were enough 
 to suggest to Vargrave that he might be on the verge of 
 a family secret, the knowledge of v/hich could be turned 
 to advantage. He took care not to confess his igno- 
 rance, but artfully proceeded to draw out Mr. Onslow's 
 communications. 
 
 "Why, it is true," said he, "that Maltravers and I 
 had no secrets. Ah! we were wild fellows then; the 
 name of Butler is in his family, — eh? " 
 " It is. I see you know all. " 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTEJ:ii:s. 395 
 
 low. just ride o„ J .^^ ^^^ 7^^""' '«'; 
 
 tid . » 1, ,:., "'''° ™ """)' ""-io"' 'o know if any 
 
 f Alice had ever been heard of; tlie reolies of Z T 
 jstrate were unsatisfactory. " And do vou ) I ^^' 
 
 ord,that Mr. Maltraver' has t ver toTis J" ' "'^ 
 ta^ned what heca.e of the poor you^^ ^o^'n r« ^ -''" 
 
 VVHy, let me see ; what was her name 1 " 
 Jhe magistrnte thought a moment, and «plied. • Alice 
 
 "Alice!" exclaimed Vargrave. "Aliopf' 
 that such was the Chris.ian'name of W ;^cle"^;Tfr 
 a^now almost convinced of the t™th of h^tst' vl^^ 
 
 " You seem to know the name 1 " 
 "Of Alice, yes; but not Darvil No nn- T l. r 
 he^ha.„eve.hea.dofthegiH.othi3^L":'r;: 
 
 by m Hoi ?:" '""'' •="■»'---» related to me 
 "y Mr. Hobbs. your surveyor's father, gave me some 
 
1:t!K,f,.^ 
 
 39G 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 
 I I 
 
 uneasiness. About two years after the young woman 
 disappeared, a girl, of very liunible dress and appear- 
 ance, stopped at the gate of Hobbs's Lodge and asked 
 earnestly for Mr. Butler. On hearing he was gone, slie 
 turned away, and was seen no more. It seems that tliis 
 girl had an infant in her arms, — which rather shocked 
 the propriety of Mr. and Mrs. Hobbs. The old gentle- 
 man told me the circumstance a few days after it hap- 
 pened, and I caused inquiry to be made for the stranger; 
 but she could not be discovered. I thought at first this 
 possibly might be the lost Alice; but I learned that 
 during his stay at the cottage, your friend — despite his 
 error, which we will not stop to excuse — had exercised 
 so generous and wide a charity amongst the poor in the 
 town and neighborhood, that it was a more probable sup- 
 position of the two, tliat the girl belonged to some 
 family he had formerly relieved, and her visit was 
 that of a mendicant, not a mistress. Accordingly, after 
 much consideration, I resolved not to mention the cir- 
 cumstance to Mr. Maltravers when he wrote to me on 
 his return from the Continent. A considerable time 
 had then elapsed since the girl had applied to Mr. 
 Hobbs: all trace of her was lost; the incident might 
 open wounds that time must have nearly healed, miglit 
 give false hopes, — or, what was worse, occasion a fresh 
 and unfounded remorse at the idea of Alice's destitu- 
 tion; it would, in fact, do no good, and might occasion 
 much unnecessary pain. I therefore suppressed all men- 
 tion of it. " 
 
 " You did right: and so the poor girl had an infant in 
 her arms ? Humph ! What sort of looking person was 
 this Alice Darvil, — pretty, of course? " 
 
 " I never saw her; and none but the persons employed 
 in the premises knew her by sight, — they described her 
 as remarkably lovely." 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTEItlES. 
 
 397 
 
 after 
 
 "Fair and slight, with blue eyes, I suppose? Those 
 are the orthodox requisites of a heroine." 
 
 " Upon my word I forget; indeed, I should never have 
 remembered as much as I do, if the celebrity of Mr. 
 Maltravers, and the consequence of his family, in these 
 parts, together with the sight of his own agony, — the 
 most painful I ever witnessed, — had not served to im- 
 press the whole affair very deeply on my mind." 
 
 " Was the girl who appeared at the gate of Hobbs's 
 Lodge described to you ? " 
 
 "No; they scarcely observed her countenance, except 
 that her complexion was too fair for a gypsy's: yet, now 
 I think of it, Mrs. Tiddy, who was with her father 
 when he told me the adventure, dwelt particularly on 
 her having (as you so pleasantly conjecture) fair hair and 
 blue eyes. Mrs. Tiddy, being just married, was ro- 
 mantic at that day." 
 
 " Well, it is an odd tale; but life is full of odd tales. 
 Here we are at the house; it really is a splendid old 
 place! " 
 
" 
 
 i 
 
 1 .Pi{ ! 
 
 398 
 
 ALICE; OK, THK MYSTERIES. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 I':- 
 
 If!, 
 
 Pendent opera interrupta.' — Viroil. 
 
 Thr history Vargmvo had heard, ho revolved much 
 wlion lie retired to rest. Ho could not but allow that 
 there was still little ground for more than conjecture 
 that Alice Darvil and Alice, Lady Vargrave, were one 
 and the same person. It might, however, be of great 
 importance to him to trace this conjecture to certainty. 
 The knowledge of a secret of early sin and Jt-gradatiou 
 in one so pure, so spotless, as Lady Vargrave might bo 
 of immense service in giving him a power over her, 
 which he could turn to account Avith Evelyn. How 
 could he best prosecute further inquiry, — by repairing 
 at once to Brook-Green, or (the thought struck him) 
 by visiting and " pumping " IVIrs. Leslie, the patroness 
 
 of Mrs. Butler of C -, the friend of Lady Vargrave? 
 
 It was worth trying the latter; it was little out of his 
 Avay back to London. His success in picking the brains 
 of Mr. Onslow of a secret encouraged him in the hope 
 of equal success with Mrs. Leslie. He decided accord- 
 ingly, and fell asleep to dream of Christmas battues, 
 royal visitors, the Cabinet, the premiership! Well, no 
 possession equals the dreams of it! Sleep on, my lord, 
 — you would be restless enough if you were to get all 
 you want. 
 
 For the next three days Lord Vargrave was employed 
 in ext.,mining the general outlines of the estate, and the 
 
 1 The things begun are interrupted and suspended. 
 
ALICE; Oli, THK MYSTERIES, 
 
 399 
 
 result of this survey satisfied him as to the cxpodioncy 
 of the purcliaso. On the third day, he was several mihss 
 from the house whoa a heavy rain came on. Lord 
 Vargravo was constitutionally hardy; and not havin- 
 hoon much exposed to visitations of t ■ vvoatlier oi 
 late yerrs, was not practically aware that ulien a man is 
 past forty, ho cannot endure \7ith impunity all that falls 
 innocuously on the elasticity of twenty-six. lie did 
 not, therefore, heed the rain that drenched him to the 
 skin, and neglected to ciiangr! his dress till he had fin- 
 ished reading soiue letters and newspapers which awaited 
 his return at Lisle Curt. The cnnsequence of this 
 imprudences was tliat, the next morning when he woke, 
 Lord Vargrave found himself, for almost the first time 
 in his life, seriously ill. Mis head ached violently; 
 cold shiverings sliook his frame like an ague; the very 
 strength of the constitution on which the fever had 
 begun to fasten, itself auguiented its danger. Lumley 
 — the last man in the world to think of the possibility 
 of dying — fought up against his own sensations, ordered 
 his post-horses, as his visit of survey was now over, and 
 scarcely even alluded to his indisposition. About an 
 hour before he set off, his letters arrived: one of these 
 informed him that Caroline, accompanied by Eve- 
 lyn, had already arrived in I'aris; the other was from 
 Colonel Legard, respectfully resigning his office, on the 
 ground of an accession of fortune by tlie sudden death of 
 the admiral, and his intention to spend the ensuing year 
 in a Continental excursion. This last letter occasioned 
 Vargrave considerable alarm; he had always felt a deep 
 jealousy of the handsome ex-guardsman, and he at once 
 suspected that Legard was about to repair to Paris as 
 his rival. He sighed, and looked round the spacious 
 apartment, and gazed on the wide prospects of grove and 
 
hi' 
 
 U, 
 
 f:' I fi 
 
 w 
 
 H 
 
 41)0 
 
 ALICK; OK, THE MYSTKHIES. 
 
 tiirf that extended from fli.. window, and said to him- 
 K(df, " Is iinotlior to snatoli tlicso from my graHp? " His 
 impatience to visit Mrs. L.,slie, to gain ascendancy over 
 Lady Vargravo, to ivpair to I'aris, (,o scheme, to ma- 
 nujuvro, to triumph, — acceh'rated the i)rogress of the dis- 
 ease that was now burning in liis veins; and tlic liand 
 tliat he hehl out to Mr. Hohbs, as lie stopped into liis 
 carriage, almost scorched tiie cold, plump, moist fingers 
 of the surveyor. Before six o'clock in the evening, 
 Lord Vargrave confessed reluctantly to himself that he 
 was too ill to proceed much farther. " Howard," said 
 ho then, breaking a silence that had lasted some hours, 
 "don't be alarmed; I feel that I am about to have a 
 
 severe attack. I shall stop at M " (naming a large 
 
 town they were approaching) ; " 1 «hall send for tlie best 
 physician the place affords. H I am delirious to-morrow, 
 or unable to give my own orders, have the kindness to 
 send express for Dr. Holland; but don't leave mo your- 
 self, my good fellow. At my age it is a hard thing to 
 
 have no one in the world to care for me in illness : d n 
 
 affection when I am well ! " 
 
 After this strange burst, which very much frightened 
 Mr. Howard. Lumley relapsed into silence, not broken 
 
 till he reached M . The best physician was sent 
 
 tor; and t^-o next morning, as ho had half foreseen and 
 toretold, Lord Vargrave was delirious! 
 
ALICE; 01{, THE MY«TEU1ES. 
 
 401 
 
 CHAPTER VT. 
 
 NouRlit under liciivcii so .strongly iloth allure 
 The neii.se of luuii, ami all his miiid ).osHt'.sH, 
 As Beauty's lovo-lmit, 
 
 Spenser. 
 
 Lkgakd was, as I Imvo b,.foro intimatod, a young man 
 of g..nor(,u.s and excdln.t .lispositions, though somewhat 
 spoiled by tho tenor of hi.s educati.m, and the gay an.l 
 reckh^ss society which had admini.stered tonics to his 
 vanity and opiates to his intellect. The eifect which 
 the beauty, the grace, the innocence, of Evelyn had pro- 
 duced upon liim had h'.m most deep and most salutary. 
 It had rendered dissipation tasteless and insipid; it 
 had made him look more deeply into his own heart, and 
 into the rules of life. Though, partly from the irk- 
 soraeness of dependence upon an uncle at once generous 
 and ungracious, partly from a difhdent and feeling sense 
 of his own inadequate pretensions to the hand of Miss 
 Cameron, and partly from the prior and acknowledged 
 claims of Lord Vargrave, he had accepted, half in de- 
 spair, the appointment offered to him, he still found it 
 impossible to banish that image which had been the first 
 to engrave upon ardent and fresh affections an indelililo 
 impression. He secretly chafed at the tliought that it 
 was to a fortunate rival that he owed the independence 
 and the station he had acquired, and resolved to seize 
 an early opportunity to free himself from obligations 
 that he deeply regretted he had incurred. At length, 
 he learned that Lord Vargrave had been refused, —that 
 
 26 
 
h'M, 
 
 402 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 Evelyn was free; and within a few days from that in- 
 telligence, the admiral was seized with apoplexy, and 
 Legard suddenly found liimself possessed, if not of 
 wealth, at least of a competence sufficient to redeem his 
 character as a suitor from the suspicion attached to a 
 fortune-hunter and adventurer. Despite the new pros- 
 pects opened to him by the death of his uncle, and 
 despite the surly caprice which had mingled with and 
 alloyed the old admiral's kindness, Legard was greatly 
 shocked by his death; and his grateful and gentle nature 
 was at first only sensible to grief for the loss he had 
 sustained. But when, at last, recovering from his 
 sorrow, he saw Evelyn disengaged and free, and him- 
 self in a position honorably to contest her hand, he 
 could not resist the sweet and passionate hopes that 
 broke upon him. He resigned, as we have seen, his 
 official appointment, and set out for Paris. He reached 
 that city a day or two after the arrival of Lord and Lady 
 Doltimore. He found the former, who had not for- 
 gotten the cautions of Vargrave, at first cold and distant; 
 but partly from the indolent habit of submitting to 
 Legard's dictates on matters of taste, partly from a 
 liking to his society, and principally from the popular 
 suffrages of fashion, which had always been accorded 
 to Legard, and which were noways diminished by the 
 news of his accession of fortune. Lord Doltimore, weak 
 and vain, speedily yielded to the influences of his old 
 associate, and Legard became quietly installed as the 
 enfa7it de la malson. Caroline was not in this instance 
 a very faithful ally to Vargrave's views and policy. In 
 his singular liaison with Lady Doltimore, the crafty 
 manoeuvrer had committed the vulgar fault of intriguers: 
 he had over-refined and had overreached himself. At the 
 commencement of their strange and unprincipled inti- 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 403 
 
 macy, Vargrave had had, perhaps, no other thought 
 than that of piquing Evelyn, consoling his vanity, 
 amusing his e7mui, and indulging rather his propensi- 
 ties as a gallant than promoting his more serious ob- 
 jects as a man of the world. By degrees, and especially 
 at Knaresdean, Vargrave himself became deeply entan- 
 gled by an affair that he had never before contemplated 
 as more important than a passing diversion: instead of 
 securing a friend to assist him in his designs on Evelyn 
 he suddenly found that he had obtained a mistress anx- 
 ious for his love and jealous of his homage. With his 
 usual promptitude and self-confidence, he was led at once 
 to deliver himself of all the ill consequences of his 
 rashness; to get rid of Caroline as a mistress, and to 
 retain her as a tool, by marrying her to Lord Doltimore. 
 By the great ascendancy which his character acquired 
 over her, and by her own worldly ambition, he suc- 
 ceeded in inducing her to sacrifice all romance to a 
 union that gave her rank and fortune; and Vargrave 
 then rested satisfied that the clever wife would not only 
 secure him a permanent power over the political in- 
 fluence and private fortune of the weak husband, but 
 also abet his designs in securing an alliance equally 
 desirable for himself. Here it was that Vargrave's 
 incapacity to understand the refinements and scruples 
 of a woman's affection and nature, however guilty the 
 one, and however worldly the other, foiled and deceived 
 hira. Caroline, though the wife of another, could not 
 contemplate without anguish a similar bondage for her 
 lover; and having something of the better qualities of 
 her sex still left to her, she recoiled from being an 
 accomplice in arts that were to drive the young, in- 
 experienced, and guileless creature who called' her 
 " friend " into the arms of a man who openly avowed 
 
¥ 
 
 404 
 
 alick; or, the mysteries. 
 
 $ li 
 
 the most mercenary motives, and who took gods and 
 men to witness that his heart was sacred to another. 
 Only in Vargravo's presence were these scruples over- 
 mastered; but the moment he was gone they returned 
 in full force. She had yielded, from positive fear, to 
 his commands that she should convey Evelyn to Paris • 
 but she trembled to think of the vague hints and dark 
 menaces that Vargrave had let fall as to ulterior pro- 
 ceedings, and was distracted at the thought of being 
 implicated in some villanous or rash design. When, 
 therefore, the man whose rivalry Vargrave most feared 
 was almost established at her house, she made but a 
 feeble resistance: she thought that if Legard should 
 become a welcome and accepted suitor before Lumley 
 arrived, the latter would be forced to forego whatever 
 hopes he yet cherished, and that she should be delivered 
 from a dilemma the prospect of which daunted and ap- 
 palled her. Added to this, Caroline was now, alas! 
 sensible that a fool is not so easily governed: her 
 resistance to an intimacy with Legard would have been 
 of little avail: Doltimore, in these matters, had an 
 obstinate will of his own; and whatever might once 
 have been Caroline's influence over her liege, certain it 
 is that such nfluence had been greatly impaired of late 
 by the indulgence of a temper always irritable, and 
 now daily more soured ;.y regret, remorse, contempt for 
 her husband, and the melancholy discovery tuat for- 
 tune, youth, beauty, and station are no talismans 
 against misery. 
 
 It was the gayest season of Paris; and to escape 
 from herself, Caroline plunged eagerly into the vort(!X 
 of its dissipations. If Doltimore's heart was disap- 
 pointed, his vanity was pleased at the admiration Caro- 
 line excited ; and he himself was of an age and temper 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTKKIES. 
 
 405 
 
 to share in the pursuits and amusements of his wife 
 Into these gayeties, new to their fascination, dazzled 
 by their splendor, tJie young Evelyn entered with her 
 hostess; and ever by her side was the unequalled form 
 of Legard. Each of them in the bloom of youth, each 
 of them at once formed to please, and to be pleased by 
 that fair Armida which we call the World, there was 
 necessarily a certain congeniality in their views and 
 sentiments, their occupations and their objects; nor was 
 there, in all that brilliant city, one more calculated to 
 captivate the eye and fancy than George Legard. But 
 still, to a certain degree, diffident and fearful, Legard 
 never yet spoke of love; nor did their intimacy at this 
 time ripen to that point in which Evelyn could have 
 asked herself if there were danger in the society of 
 Legard, or serious meaning in his obvious admiration 
 Whether that melancholy to which Lady Vargrave had 
 alluded in her correspondence with Lumley were occa- 
 sioned by thoughts connected with Maltravers, or un- 
 acknowledged recollections of Legard, it remains for 
 the acute reader himself to ascertain. 
 
 The Doltimores had been about three weeks in Paris 
 
 — and. for a fortnight of that time Legard had been 
 their constant guest, and half the inmate of their hotel 
 
 — when, on that night which has been commemorated 
 in our last book, Maltravers suddenly once more beheld 
 the face of Evelyn, and in the same hour learned that 
 she was free. He quitted Vderie's box; with a burning 
 pulse and a beating heart, joy and surprise and hope 
 sparkling in his eyes and brightening his whole aspect, 
 he hastened to Evelyn's side. 
 
 It was at this time Legard, who sat behind Miss 
 Cameron, unconscious of the approach of a rival, hap- 
 pened, by one of those chances which occur in con versa- 
 
i ! 
 
 406 
 
 ALICE ; OH, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 tion, to mention tlio name of Maltravers. He asked 
 Evelyn if she had yet met him. 
 
 "What! is he, then, in Paris?" asked Evelyn, 
 quickly. "I heard, indeed," she continued, "that he 
 left Burleigh for Paris, but imagined he had gone on 
 to Italy." 
 
 "No, he is still here; but he goes, I believe, little 
 into the society Lady Doltimore chiefly visits. Is he 
 one of your favorites, Miss Cameron 1 " 
 
 There was a slight increase of color in Evelyn's 
 beautiful cheek as she answered, — 
 
 " Is it possible not to admire and be interested in one 
 so gifted 1 " 
 
 " He has certainly noble and fine qualities," returned 
 Legard; "but I cannot feel at ease with him: a cold- 
 ness, a hauteur, a measured distance of manner, seem 
 to forbid even esteem. Yet /ought not to say so," he 
 added, with a pang of self-reproach. 
 
 " No, indeed, you ought not to say so," said Evelyn, 
 shaking her head with a pretty aff'ectation of anger; " for 
 I know that you pretent" to like what I like, and admire 
 what I admire ; and I am an enthusiast in all that relates 
 to Mr. Maltravers." 
 
 " I know that I would wish to see all things in life 
 through Mi .^ Cameron's eyes," whispered Legard, softly; 
 and this was the most meaning speech he had ever yet 
 made. 
 
 Evelyn turned away, and seemed absorbed in the 
 opera; and at that instant the door of the box opened, 
 and Maltravers entered. 
 
 In her open, undisguised, youthful delight at seeing 
 him again, Maltravers felt, indeed, " as if Paradise were 
 opened in her face. " In his own agitated emotions, he 
 scarcely noticed that Legard had risen and resigi.ed his 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 407 
 
 seat to him; he availed himself of the civility, greeted 
 his old acquaintance with a smile and bow, and in a few 
 minutes ho was in deep converse with Evelyn 
 
 Never had he so successfullj exerted the singular, the 
 master fascination that he could command at will -the 
 more powerful, from its contrast to his ordinary cold- 
 ness; in the very expression of his eyes, the very tone 
 ot his voice, tJiere was that in Maltravers, seen at his 
 happier moments, which irresistibly interested and 
 absorbed your attention: he could make you forget 
 everything but himself and the rich, easy, yet earnest 
 eloquence which gave color to his language and melody 
 to his voice. In that hour of renewed intercourse wiUi 
 one Who had at first awakened, if not her heart, at least 
 her imagination and her deeper thoughts, certain it is 
 that even Legard was not missed. As she smiled and 
 listened. Evelyn dreamed not of the angui.h she in- 
 flicted. Leaning against the back of the box. Legard 
 surveyed the absorbed attention of Evelyn, the adoring 
 eyes of Maltravers. with that utter and crushing wretch- 
 edness which no passion but jealousy, and that only 
 while It IS yet a virgin agony, can bestow. He had 
 never before even dreamed of rivalry in such a quarter: 
 but there was that ineffable instinct which lovers have 
 and which so seldom errs, that told him at once that in 
 Maltravers was the greatest obstacle and pe-U his pas- 
 sion could encounter. He waited in hopes tl t Evelyn 
 would take the occasion to turn to him at leaot, when 
 the fourth act closed. She did not; and unable to 
 constrain his emotions, and reply to the small talk of 
 Lord Doltimore, he abruptly quitted the box. 
 
 When the opera was over, Maltravers oflfered his arm 
 to Evelyn; she accepted it, and then she looked round 
 for Legard. He was gone. 
 
'fi^f^^ 
 
 
 mtxi 
 
BOOK VIII. 
 
 *ft ZeD, ri fiov Spaffcu PtfiovKfvffai vipi ; 
 
 Soph. : (Ed, Tyr., 738. 
 Fate ! Heaven ! — what have ye then decreed ? 
 
 "Tjap.? .... 
 'AKp6ra.rov tt<rwafiacr' d^Jro/tov 
 'ttpoviriy viv tls dvdyKW, 
 
 Ibid., 874. 
 Insolent pride .... 
 The topmost crag of the great precipice 
 Surmounts — to rush to ruin. 
 
BOOK VIII. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 She is young, wise, fair. 
 In these to Nature sne 's immediate heir. 
 
 Honors best thrive 
 When rather from our acts we them derive 
 Than our foregoers '. 
 
 All 's Well that Ends WeU. 
 
 LETTER PROV ERNEST MALTRAVEHS TO THE HON. FREDERICK 
 
 CXiEVELAND. 
 
 Evelyn is free : she is in Paris ; I have seen her, - 1 see her 
 daily. 
 
 How true it is that we cannot make a philosophy of indif- 
 ference I The affections are stronger than all our reasonings. 
 We must take them into our alliance, or they will destroy all 
 our theories of self-government. Such fools of fate are we, 
 passing from system to system, from scheme to scheme, vainly 
 seeking to shut out passion and sorrow, forgetting that they 
 are bom within us, and return to the soul as the seasons 
 to the earth I Yet, years, many years ago, when I first 
 looked gravely into my own nature and being here ; when I 
 first awakened to the dignity and solemn responsibilities of 
 human life, — I had resolved to curb and tame myself into a 
 thing of rule and measure. Bearing within me the wound 
 scarred over but never healed, — the consciousness of wrong 
 to the heart that bad leaned upon nie, — haunted by the mourn- 
 ful memory of my lost Alice, I shuddered at new affections 
 bequeathing new griefs Wrapped in a haughty egotism, I 
 
h 
 
 
 
 
 412 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 wished not to extend my empire over a wider circiii' than ray 
 own intellect and passions. I turned from the trader-covet- 
 ousness of bliss, that would freight the wealth of life upon 
 barks exposed to every wind upon the seas of fate ; I was 
 contented with the hope to pass life alone, honored, though 
 unloved. Slowly and reluctantly I yielded to the fascinations 
 of Florence Lascelles. The hour that sealed the compact be- 
 tween us was one of regret and alarm. In vain I sought to 
 deceive myself; I felt that I did not love. And then I 
 imagined that love was no longer in my nature, — that I had 
 exhausted its treasures before my time, and left my heai't a 
 bankrupt. Not till the leist, — not till that {glorious soul 
 broke out in all its brightness, the nearer it approached the 
 source to which it has returned, — did I feel of what tender- 
 ness she was worthy and I was capable. She died, and the 
 world was darkened ! Energy, ambition, my former aims and 
 objects, — were all sacrificed at her tomb. But amidst ruins 
 and through the darkness, my soul yet supported me ; I could 
 no longer hope, but I could endure. I was resolved that I 
 would not be subdued, and that the world should not hear me 
 groan. Amidst strange and far-distant scenes, amidst hordes 
 to whom my very language was unknown, in wastes and 
 forests which the step of civilized man, with his sorrows and 
 his dreams, had never trodden, I wrestled with my soul, as 
 the patriarch of old wrestled with the angel; and the angel 
 was at last the victor ! You do not mistake me, — you know 
 that it was not the death of Florence alone that worked in me 
 that awful revolution, but with that death the last glory fled 
 from the face of things, that had seemed to me beautiful of old. 
 Hers was a love that accompanied and dignified the schemes 
 and aspirations of manhood, — a love that was an incarnation 
 of ambition itself ; and all the evils and disappointments that 
 belong to ambition seemed to crowd around my heart like 
 vultures to a feast, allured and invited by the dead. But this 
 at length was over ; the barbarous state restored me to the 
 civilized. I returned to my equals, prepared no more to be 
 an actor in the strife, but a calm spectator of the turbulent 
 arena. I once more laid my head beneath the roof of my 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 413 
 
 .our, „, „, arrival - h„,, I i„5„,g,„ iTrmTwh™ '„ S 
 
 This enchanting child, this delightful Evelyn thi. n.r «f 
 
 mo^ iidl;\tr;Je TddToS' t; r,rrf r'-'^' 
 
 ;iat .he wa, afflanced to .„X an<. fe hltt'LV::":^ 
 me to question, to seek the annulment of the Ld I V^ 
 b»u unworthy to love Evelyn, if I had not loved honor mo" 
 
 S^Tw"'*.™'""" *« i"'««catio„ of hope. l7u7 
 
 S; pStud'd^s; ^^^ f S -^r 
 

 414 
 
 ALICE ; OK, THR MYSTERIES. 
 
 Ih 
 
 f- 
 
 ^T^ 
 
 m- 
 
 
 
 m ' 
 
 ^iiiii 
 
 years, I tliink fhe loves me ; thai in that love I am about at 
 last to learn what blessings there are in life ! 
 
 Evelyn has the simplicity, the tenderness of Alice, with the 
 refinement and culture of Florence herself ; not the genius, 
 not the daring spirit, not the almost fearful brilliancy of that 
 ill-fated being, — but with a taste as true to the beautiful, with 
 a Boul as sensitive to the sublime. In Evelyn's presence I 
 feel a sense of peace, of security, of home. Happy, thrice 
 happy, he who will take her to his breast ! Of late she has 
 assumed a new charm in my eyes; a certain pensiveuess and 
 abstraction have succeeded to her wonted gayety. Ah I loye 
 is pensive ; is it not, Cleveland ? How often I ask myself 
 that question I And yet, amidst all my hopes, there are hours 
 when I tremble and despond. How can that innocent and 
 joyous spirit sympathize with all that mine has endured and 
 known ? How, even though her inuigiuation be dazzled by 
 some prestige around my name, — how can I believe that I have 
 awakened her heart to that deep and real love of which it is 
 capable, and which youth excites in youth ? When we meet 
 at her home, or amidst the (juiet yet brilliant society which is 
 gathered round Madame de V.-ntadour, or the De Montaignes, 
 with whom she is an especial favorite ; when we converse ; 
 when I sit by her, and her soft eyes meet mine, — I feel not 
 the disparity of years ; my heart speaks - j her, and that is 
 youthful still. But in the more gay and crowded haunts to 
 which her presence allures me, when I see that fairy form sur- 
 rounded by those who have not outlived the pleasures that so 
 naturally dazzle and captivate her, — then, indeed, I feel that 
 my tastes, my habits, my pursuits, belong to another season of 
 life, and ask myself anxiously, if my nature and my years are 
 those that can make her happy ? Then, indeed, I recognize 
 the wide interval that time and trial place between one whom 
 the world has wearied, and one for whom the world is new. 
 If she should discover hereafter that youth should love only 
 youth, my bitterest anguish would be that of remorse. I 
 know how deeply I love, by knowing how immeasurably dearer 
 her happiness is than ray own ! I will wait, then, yet awhile; 
 I will examine, I will watch well that I do not deceive myself. 
 
ALICE; 01!, THK MYSTKHIES. 
 
 41 -J 
 
 As yet, I think that I have no rivals whom 1 r.P,.,1 r 
 -mulea as «he is ,,y the yo«n«.t ^TSj^^t'l^ Z 
 turns w. h evnh.nt pleasure to n.,, whon. she'a Is he frie 
 
 v,.„i " lieganlf— he is here, and before I in»^t 
 
 «u,ts, he can have e,lucate.l his n.ind to appreciate Fvelvn >r 
 
 litA- ; u, '' «o'"«t'""g '."^od in theyounRnmn de 
 
 Bpite his foibles, -something Hut. wins iinon ,1 
 will smile to learn that ' Jl ^ ' ""'^ ^^^ 
 
 usually so reser::^ o^^leh i:^-^ ^°" T~ 
 at^chment and hope. Eve^Ift" tk^^r ^l^ JIJ 
 mother, and describes her in colors so Rlowinc that I f^l f. 
 
 T'l,^^! • • 1 , " ^™ ^^"o I-''*"y Variirrave was ? 
 
 There ,s evidently some mystery thrown over her brth and 
 connections ; and from what I can hear, this arise fro. tle"r 
 owhn,ss. Yon know that thongh I have been accLd oJ 
 family pride, it is a pride of a peculiar sort T .,n, , ? 
 of the length of a mo^uldering p'edi^t Z of'sif St;:; 
 quartenngs m my escutcheon, _ of some blood of scholars" nd 
 o heroes that rolls in my veins ; it is the same k ud of ;; Je 
 hat an Eng hshman may feel in belonging to a country^ hat 
 ha produced Shakespeare and Bacon. I have never Ihope 
 elt the vulgar pride that disdains want of birth in others and 
 
 scended from a kmg or a peasant. It is mvself and not Tv 
 
 nowever himilj, lady Vorgrave'a parei,l„se, do not scnmV 
 t^ mfo™ ■„», should ,ou learn ly intalliU LZ" 
 

 
 
 ^ .s* 
 
 ■ ? 
 
 k' 
 
 416 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 I had a conversation last night with Evelyn that delighted 
 me. By some accident we spoke of Lord Vargrave ; and she 
 told r>e, with an etichanting candor, of the position in which 
 she od with him, and the conscientious and noble scruples 
 she felt as to the enjoyment of a fortune which her benefactor 
 and stepfather had evidently intended to be shared with his 
 nearest relative. In these scruples I cordially concurred ; and 
 if I marry Evelyn, my first care will be to carry them into 
 effect, by securing to Vargrave, as far as the law may permit, 
 the larger part of the income, — I should like to say all, — at 
 least till Evelyn's children would have the right to claim it : 
 a right not to be enforced during her own, and, therefore, 
 probably not during Vargrave's life. I own that this would 
 be no sacrifice, for I am proud enough to recoil from the 
 thought of being indebted for fortune to the woman I love. 
 It was that kind of pride which gave coldness and constraint 
 to my regard for Florence ; and for the rest, my own pioperty 
 (much increased by the simplicity of my habits of life for 
 the last few years) will suffice for all Evelyn or myself could 
 require. Ah, madman that I am I I calculate already on 
 marriage, even while I have so much cause for anxiety as to 
 love. But my heart beats ; my heart has grown a dial, that 
 keeps the account of time ; by its movements I calculate the 
 moments, — in an hour I shall see her ! 
 
 Oh, never, never, in my wildest and earliest visions, could 
 I have fancied that I should love as I love now I Adieu, my 
 oldest and kindest friend ! If I am happy at last, it will 
 be something to feel that at last I shall have satisfied your 
 expectations of my youth. 
 
 Affectionately yours, 
 
 £. Maltravers. 
 
 Rub de — — , Paris, January — , 18 — . 
 
 [Wssi 
 
 II 
 
AUCE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 417 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 In her youth 
 There is a prone and speechless dialect — 
 Such as moves men. 
 
 Measure for Measure. 
 Abbess. Haply in private — 
 Adriana. And in assemblies too. 
 
 Comedy of Errors. 
 
 It was true, as Maltravers had stated, that Legard had 
 of late been little at Lady Doltimore's, or in th-^ same 
 society as Evelyn. With the vehemence of an ardent 
 and passionate nature, he yielded to the jealous rage 
 and grief that devoured him. He saw too clearly, and 
 from the first, that Maltravers adored Evelyn; and in 
 her familiar kindness of manner towards him, in the 
 unlimited venera' "on in which she appeared to hold his 
 gifts and qualities, he thought that that love might be. 
 come reciprocal. He became gloomy and almost morose; 
 he shunned Evelyn,— he forbore to t.iter into the lisls 
 against his rival. Perhaps the intellectual superiority of 
 Maltravers, the extraordinary conversational brilliancy 
 that he could display when he pleased, the commanding 
 dignity of his manners, even the matured authority of 
 his reputation and years, might have served to awe the 
 hopes, as well as to wound the vanity of a man accus- 
 tomed himself to be the oracle of a circle. These might 
 have strongly influenced Legard in withdrawing himself 
 from Evelyn's society; but there was one circumstance, 
 connected with motives much more generous, that mainly 
 determined his conduct. It happened that Maltravers, 
 
 27 
 

 418 
 
 aliok; ok, thk mystkuiks. 
 
 mm, 
 
 shortly after his first intcrviow witli Evelyn, was riding 
 alone one day, in tlie more sequestered part of tlie Bois 
 de Boidogne, when he eneoinitered Legard, also alone, 
 and on horseback. The latter, on succeeding to his 
 inicle's fortune, had taken care to repay his debt to 
 Maltravers; he had done so in a short but feeling and 
 grateful letter, which had been forwarded to Maltravers 
 at Paris, and which pleased and touched him. Since 
 that time ho had tal- mi a liking to the young man ; and 
 now, meeting him at Paris, he sought, to a certain ex- 
 tent, Legafd's more intimate acquaintance. Maltravers 
 was in that happy mood when we are inclined to bo 
 friends with all men. It is true, however, that though 
 unknown to himself, t\at pride of bearing which often 
 gave to the very virtues of Maltravers an unamiablo 
 aspect, occasionally irritated one who felt ho had in- 
 curred to him an obligation of honor and of life never to 
 bo effaced: it made the sense of this obligation more 
 intolerable to Legard; it made him more desirous to 
 acquit himself of tho charge. But on this day there 
 was so much cordiality in the greeting of Maltravers, 
 and he pressed Legard in so friendly a manner to join 
 him in his ride, that the young man's heart was soft- 
 ened, and they rode together, conversing familiarly on 
 such topics as were in common between them. At last 
 the conversation fell on Lord and Lady Doltimore ; and 
 thence Maltravers, whose soul v/as full of one thought, 
 turned it indirectly towards Evelyn. 
 " Did you ever see Lady Vargrave ? " 
 " Never, " replied Legard, looking another way; "but 
 I^ady Doltimore says she is as beautiful as Evelyn her- 
 self, if that be possible, and still so young n\ form and 
 countenance that she looks rather like her sister than 
 her mother. " 
 
ALICE; OK, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 419 
 
 I- 
 
 "How I should like to know hor! " said Maltravers 
 witli a siuld(!ii (incrf^y. ' 
 
 _ Legard cliang.'d tlio. subjfict. IT,! spoko of the Cur- 
 nival, of balls, of masquerades, of operas, of reiuiun.r 
 beauties, ^ "^ 
 
 "Ah!" said Maltravers, with a half-sigh, "yours is 
 th.! age for those dazzling pleasures; to me they are 'the 
 twice-tohl talc' " 
 
 Maltrnvor, meant it not, but tliis remark chafed Le- 
 gard. - bought it conveyed a sarcasm on the child- 
 ishnc ■ ..is own mind, or the levity of his pursuits; 
 
 his color mounted as he replied, 
 
 " It is not, I fear, the slight difference of years between 
 us, it is the difference of intellect you would insinuate ; 
 but you should remember all men have not your re- 
 sources; all men cannot pretend to genius! " 
 
 " My dear Legard, " said Maltravers, kindly, " do not 
 fancy that I could have designed any insinuation half 
 80 presumptuous and impertinent. Believe me, I envy 
 you, sincerely and sadly, all those faculties of enjoyment 
 which I have worn away. Oh, how I envy you! for 
 were they still mine, then — then, indeed, I might hope 
 to mould myself into greater congeniality with the beau- 
 tiful and the young! " 
 
 Maltravers paused a moment, and resumed, with a 
 grave smile: "I trust, Legard, that you will be wiser 
 than I have been; that you will gather your rrtses while 
 It is yet May; and that you will not live to thirty-six, 
 pining for happiness and home, a disappointed and deso- 
 late man; till, when your ideal is at last found, you 
 shrink back appalled, to discover that you have lost none 
 of the tendencies to love, but many of the graces by 
 which love is to be allured." 
 
 There was so much serious and earnest feeling in 
 
h 
 
 i n 
 
 420 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 If? ■ " i 
 
 these words that they went home at once to Logard's 
 sympathies. He felt irresistibly impelled to learn the 
 Avorst. 
 
 " Maltravers, " said he, in a hurried tone, "it would 
 be an iule compliment to say that you are not likely to 
 love in vain; perhaps it is indelicate in me to apply a 
 general remark; and yet — yet I cannot but fancy that 
 I have discovered your secret, and that you are not in- 
 sensible to the charms of Miss Cameron." 
 
 " Legard, " said Maltravers, and so strong was his fer- 
 vent attachment to Evelyn that it swept away all his 
 natural coldness and reserve, "I tell you plainly and 
 frankly that in my love for Evelyn Cameror. iie the last 
 hopes I have in life, i have no thought, no ambition, 
 no sentiment, that is not vowed to her. If my love 
 should be unreturned, I may strive to endure the blow, 
 I may mix with the world, I may seem to occupy myself 
 in the aims of others, — but my heart will be broken ! 
 Let us talk of this no more; you have surprised my 
 secret, though it must have betrayed itself. Learn from 
 me how preternaturally st-ong — how generally fatal — 
 is love deferred to that day when, in the stern growth of 
 all the feelings, love writes itself on granite. " 
 
 Maltravers, as if imi^atient of his own weakness, put 
 spurs to his horse, and they rode on rapidly for some 
 time without speaking. 
 
 That silence was employed by Legard in meditating 
 over all he had heard and witnessed, — in recaUing all 
 that he owed to Maltravers ; and before that silence was 
 broken, the young man nobly resolved not even to at- 
 tempt, not even to hope, a rivalry with Maltravers; to 
 forego all the expectations he had so fondly nursed; to 
 absent himself from the company of Evelyn; to requite 
 faithfully and firmly tin at act of generosity to which he 
 
A.LICK; OR, THE MYSTKRIPIS. 
 
 421 
 
 owod tho preservation of his life, tlic rodomntion of his 
 honor. 
 
 Agreeably to tliis determination, he ahstainod from 
 visitnig those haunts in wln'ch Evelyn shone; and if 
 accidimt brought them together, his manner was em- 
 barrassed and abrupt. She wondered, — at last, perhaps 
 she resented; it may be that she, grieved, for certain it 
 IS that Maltra^">rs was right in thiiddng that her manner 
 had lost the gayety that distinguished it at Merton Rec- 
 tory. But still it may bt; doul)te(l whether Evelyn had 
 seen enough of Lcgard, and whether her fancy and ro- 
 mance were still suiHciently free from the magical influ- 
 ences of the genius that called them forth in the eloquent 
 homage of Maltravers, to trace, herself, to any causes 
 connected with iier youngcu- lover, the listless melancholy 
 that crept over Iut. In very young women, — new alike 
 to tho world and the knowledge of theraseives, —many 
 vague and undefined feedings herald the dawn of Svc- 
 shade after shade, and light up.)n light, succeeds before 
 the sun breaks forth, and the earth awakens to his 
 presence. 
 
 It was one evening that Lcgard had suffered himself 
 
 to be led into a party at tlie ambassador's, and 
 
 there, as he stood by the door, he saw at a little dis- 
 tance Maltravers conversing with Evelyn. Again ho 
 writhed beneath the tortures of his jealous anguish ; and 
 there, as he gazed and suffered, he resolved (as Maltravers 
 had done before him) to fly from tho place that had a 
 little while ago seemed to him Elysium. He would quit 
 Paris; he would travel; he would not see Evelyn again 
 till the irrevocable barrier was passed, and she was the 
 wife of Maltravers. In the first heat of this determina- 
 tion, he turned towards some young men standing near 
 him. one of whom was about to visit Vienna. He 
 
422 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 gayly proposed to join him, — a proposal readily accepted, 
 — and began conversing on the journey, the city, its splen- 
 did and proud society, with all that cruel exhilaration 
 which the forced spirits of a stricken heart can alone 
 display, when Evelyn (whose conference with Maltravers 
 was ended) passed close by him. She was leaning on 
 Lady Doltimore's arm, and the admiring murmur of his 
 companions caused Legard to turn suddenly round. 
 
 '^ You are not dancing to-night. Colonel Legard," 
 said Caroline, glancing towards Evelyn. " The more the 
 season for balls advances, the more indolent you become " 
 Legard rtiuttered a confused reply, one lialf of which 
 seemed petulant, while the other half was inaudible 
 "Not so indolent as you suppose," said his friend. 
 Legard meditates an excursion sufficient, I hope to 
 redeem his character in your eyes. It is a long journey 
 and what is worse, a very cold journey, to Vienna." 
 
 Vienna ! — do you think of going to Vienna ? " cried 
 Caroline. 
 
 f I. " ^Z' " f'^ ^'^''.'^,; " ^ ^^^ P""^ •' ^^y P^^^« 'setter 
 than this odious city! " and he moved away. 
 
 Evelyn's eyes followed him sadly and gravely She 
 remamed by Lady Doltimore's side, abstracted and silent 
 tor several minutes. ' 
 
 Meanwhile Caroline, turning to Lord Devonport (the 
 
 friend who had proposed the Viennese excursion), said. 
 
 It IS cruel in you to go to Vienna; it is doubly cruel 
 
 to rob Lord Doltimore of his best friend, and Paris of its 
 
 best waltzer. " 
 
 "Oh it is a voluntary offer of Legard's, Lady Dolti- 
 more; believe me, I have used no persuasive arts. But 
 the fact is, that we have been talking of a fair widow 
 the beauty of Austria, and as proud and as unassailable 
 as Ehrenbreitstein itself. Legard's vanity is piqued, and 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 423 
 
 BO_aa a professed lady-killer — he intends to see what 
 can be eflFected by the handsomest Englishman of his 
 time. " 
 
 Caroline laughed; and new claimants on her notice 
 succeeded to Lord Devonport. It was not till the ladies 
 were waiting their carriage in the shawl-room that Lady 
 Doltimore noticed the paleness and thoughtful brow of 
 Evelyn. 
 
 " Are you fatigued or unwell, dear? " she said. 
 "No," answered Evelyn, forcing a smile; and at 
 that moment they were joined by Maltravers, with the 
 intelligence that It would be some minutes before the 
 carriage could draw up. Caroline amused herself in the 
 interval by shrewd criticisms on the dresses and char- 
 acters of her various friends. Caroline had grown an 
 amazing prude in her judgment of others! 
 
 " What a turban ! _ prudent for Mrs. A to wear; 
 
 bright red: it puts out her face, as the sun puts out 
 
 the fire. Mr. Maltravers, do observe Lady B with 
 
 that very young gentleman. After all her experience 
 m angling, it is odd that she should still only throw in 
 for small fish. Pray, why is the marriage between Lady 
 
 C D and Mr. P broken off? Is it true 
 
 that he is so much in debt, and is so very, very profli- 
 
 gate? They say she is heart-broken." 
 
 ^^ "Eeally, Lady Doltimore, " said Maltravers, smiling, 
 
 "I am but a bad scandal-monger. But poor F is 
 
 not, I believe, much worse than others. How do we 
 know whose fault it is when a marriage is broken off? 
 
 Lady C D heart-broken ! — what an idea ! Now- 
 
 adays there is never any affection in compacts of that 
 sort; and the chain that binds the frivolous nature is but 
 a gossamer thread. Fine gentlemen and fine kdies! their 
 loves and their marriages — 
 
I'- 
 ll' 
 
 h 
 
 Ui 
 
 ; r 
 
 424 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTKRIES. 
 
 ' May flourish and may fade ; 
 A breath may make tliem, as a breath has made.' 
 
 Never believe that a heart long accustomed to beat 
 only in good society can be brivcen, — it is rarely even 
 touched! " 
 
 Evelyn listened attentively, and seemed struck. She 
 sighed, and said in a very low voice, as to herself, " It ia 
 true ; how could I think otherwise ? " 
 
 For the next few days Evelyn was unwell, and did 
 not quit her room. Maltravers was in despair. The 
 flowers, the books, the music, he sent, his anxious in- 
 quiries, his earnest and respectful notes, — touched with 
 that ineffable charm which heart and intellect breathe 
 into the most trifling coinage from their mint, — all 
 affected Evelyn sensibly: perhaps she contrasted them 
 with ^^l^i^'s indifference and apparent caprice ; perhaps 
 in that^Rtrast Maltravers gained more than by all his 
 brilliant qualities. Meanwhile, without visit, without 
 message, without farewell, — unconscious, it is true, of 
 Evelyn's illness, — Legard departed for Vienna. 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTEIilES. 
 
 425 
 
 nade.' 
 
 id to beat 
 arely even 
 
 •uck. She 
 self, " It is 
 
 11, and did 
 pair. The 
 nxious in- 
 iched with 
 ct breathe 
 aiiit, — all 
 sted them 
 i; perhaps 
 by all his 
 ;, without 
 s true, of 
 
 CHAPTER III, 
 
 A pleasing 1,111(1 .... 
 Of dreani.s tliat wave l.ofom tlio half-shut eyo, 
 And of ftay castles in the clouds that pass, ' 
 Forever Hashing round a summer sky. 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 Baily, hourly, incr(;asod the influence of Evelyn over 
 Maltraver«. Oh. what a dupe is a man's pride; what 
 a fool his wisdom! That a girl, a mer. child, one 
 who scarce knew her own heart, beautiful as it was 
 whose deeper feelings still lay coiled up in their sweet 
 buds —that she should thus master this proud, wise 
 man But as thou, our universal teacher. — as tliou, 
 U bhakespeare! haply speaking from the hints of thino 
 own experience, — hast declared,— 
 
 "None are so truly caught, when they are catch'd, 
 As wit turned fool ; folly in wisdom hatched 
 Hath wisdom's warrant." 
 
 Still, methinks that, in that surpassing and danger- 
 ously indulged afl-ection which levelled tliee, Maltravers 
 with the weakest, which overturned all thy fine philoso- 
 phy of stoicism, and made thee the veriest slave of the 
 "Rose-Garden,"-still, Maltravers, thou mightst, at 
 least, have seen that thou hadst lost forever all right to 
 pride, all privilege to disdain the herd! But thou wort 
 proud of thine own infirmity. And far sharper must 
 be tliat lesson which can teach thee that pride — thine 
 angel — is ever pre-doomed to fall. 
 
i« 
 
 Ik 
 
 426 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE >[YSTERIES. 
 
 ? t 
 
 It i 
 
 'M 
 
 What a mistake to suppose that the passions are 
 strongest in youth! Tho passions are not stronger, but 
 the control over them is Mv,.ker. They are more easily 
 excited, -they are more violent and more apparent; 
 but they have less energy, less durability, less intense 
 and concentrated power, than in maturer life In 
 youth passion succeeds to passion, and one breaks 
 upon the other, as waves upon a rock, till the heart 
 frets Itself to repose. In manhood, the great deep flows 
 on, more calm, but more profound; its serenity is the 
 proof of the might and terror of its course, were the 
 wind to blow and the storm to rise. 
 
 A young man's ambition is but vanity: it has no 
 definite aim, — it plays with a thousand toys. As with 
 one passion, so with the rest. In youth, love is ever 
 on the wing, but like the birds in April, it hath not 
 yet built its nest. With so long a career of summer 
 and hope before it, the disappointment of to-day is suc- 
 ceeded by the novelty of to-morrow, and the sun that 
 advances to the noon but dries up its fervent tears 
 But when we have arrived at that epoch of life when 
 If the light fail us, if the last rose wither, we feel that 
 the loss cannot be retrieved, and that the frost and the 
 darkness are at hand, love becomes to us a treasure that 
 we watch over and hoard with a miser's care Our 
 youngest-born aflfection is our darling and our idol 
 the fondest pledge of the past, the most cherished of 
 our hopes for the future. A certain melancholy that 
 mingles with our joy at the possession only enhances 
 IS charm. We feel ourselves so dependent on it for 
 all that IS yet to come. Our other barks — our gay gal- 
 leys of pleasure, our stately argosies of pride — have 
 been swallowed up by the remorseless wave. On this 
 last vessel we freight our all. - to its frail tenement we 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 41^7 
 
 commit ourselves. The star that guiaos it is our guide 
 doom^" *^*® tempest that menaces we behold .mr own 
 
 Still Maltravers shrank from the confo.ssion that 
 trembled on his lips; still he adliered to the course 
 he had prescribed to himself. If ever (as he had im 
 plied in his letter to Cleveland), -if ever Evlyn 
 sliould discover they were not suited to each other' 
 Ihe possibility of such an affliction impres.sed his judg- 
 ment; the dread of it chilled his heart. With all his 
 pride, there was a certain humility in Maltravers that 
 was perhaps one cause of his reserve. He know what 
 a beautiful possession is youth, - its sanguine hopes, its 
 elastic spirit, its inexhaustible resources! What to the 
 eyes of woman were the acquisitions which manhood 
 had brought him, -the vast, but the sad experience, 
 the and wisdom, the philosophy ba.ed on disappoint- 
 ment? He might be loved but for the vain glitter of 
 name and reputation; and love might vanish as custom 
 dimmed the illusion. Men of strong affections are jeal- 
 ous of their own genius. They know how separate a 
 thing from the household character genius often is- 
 they fear lest they should be loved for a quality, not 
 for themselves. 
 
 Thus communed he with himself; thus, as the path 
 had become clear to his hopes, did new fears arise; and 
 thus did love bring, as it ever does, in its burning 
 wake, ° 
 
 " The pang, the agony, the doubt! " 
 Maltravers then confirmed himself in the resolution 
 he had formed: he would cautiously examine Evelyn 
 and himself; he would weigh in the balance every straw 
 that the wind should turn up; he would not aspire to 
 the treasure unless he could feel secure that the coffer 
 

 k 
 
 428 
 
 
 Ar>U;K; OR, TlIK AIYSTI^HIKS. 
 
 Ill 
 
 coul.l im-sorv. llu, g,.,n. Tl.is was not only a pnnlent 
 It was a just an.l a g.-norous drtonnination. It was ..n/, 
 winch wo all ouglit to form if tho fervor of unr passions 
 w.ll permit us. W. have no right to sacriHco years to 
 "H."'ents an.I to melt the pearl that has no price in 
 a single draught. Hut can Maltravers a.lher- to his 
 wise precautions ? The truth must he spoken. it was 
 porhaps the first time in his life that Maltravers had 
 been really in love. 
 
 As the reader will r.3member, ho had not been in love 
 with the haughty Florence; adn.iration, gratitude, _ the 
 affection of the hoa.l not that of the feelings. _ had been 
 the links hat bound him to the enthusiastic correspond- 
 ent, revealed in the gifted l,eauty; and the gloomy cir- 
 cumstances connect.Hl with her early fate had left dec-p 
 furrows in his memory. Time and vicissitude hai 
 effaced tho wounds; and the light of tho beautiful 
 dawned once more in the face of Evelyn. Valerie 
 de Ventadour had been but the fancy of a roving breast. 
 Alice, tho sweet Alice. -her. indeed, in tho first flower 
 ot youth, he had loved with a boy's romance. Ho had 
 loved her deeply, fondly; but perhaps he had never 
 been m love with her. Ho had mourned her loss for 
 years; insensibly to himself her loss had altered his 
 character and cast a melancholy gloom over all the colors 
 of his hfo. But she whose range of ideas was so con- 
 fined, she who had but broke into knowledge, as tho 
 chrysalis into the butterfly, -how much in tU prodi- 
 gal and gifted nature, bounding onwards into the broad 
 plains of life must the peasant-girl have failed to fill! 
 Ihey had had nothing in common but their youth and 
 their love. It was a dream that had hovered over the 
 poet-boy in the morning twilight; a dream he Iiad often 
 wished to recall; a dream that had haunted him in the 
 
a prudent, 
 It was (UK- 
 ir liiis«i()iis 
 years to 
 
 price in 
 Bre to his 
 
 — it was, 
 ravers had 
 
 3n in love 
 idc, — the 
 ■ had been 
 •rroHpond- 
 ooiiiy cir- 
 luft deep 
 tudo had 
 beautiful 
 Valerie 
 g bnvist. 
 'st flower 
 
 Ho had 
 id never 
 
 loss for 
 ■ered his 
 le colors 
 
 so con- 
 , as the 
 t prodi- 
 le Ijroad 
 
 1 to fill! 
 uth and 
 >ver the 
 id often 
 1 in the 
 
 ALICE; OK, THE MVSTKKIES. 
 
 429 
 
 noomlny, but had, as all boyish visions ovor have 
 done, left ti.e heart uur.xhauste.l, and the passions u..- 
 consunu-d V,,,rs _ long year. - since then had rolle.l 
 away; and yet perhaps one , ncui-;ious attraction that 
 drew Maltravers so su.kh dy tu^v'a• !s Evelyn was a 
 soMietlung indistinct and «,.lotina,b3 that ren.inded 
 hna ot Alice. There was k, simih'.:;ty in th.ur fea- 
 tures; but at times a tone in : v.lyn's voice, a "trick 
 of the manner," an air, a gesture, - recalled hi,a, over 
 the gulfs of time, to poetry and hope and Alice. 
 
 In the youth of each _ the absent and the present 
 one -there was resemblance: resemblance in their sim- 
 plicity, their grace. Perhaps Alice, of the two, had 
 in her nature more real depth, more ardor of feeling 
 more sublimity of sentiment, than Evelyn. But in her 
 primitive ignorance, half her noblest qualities were 
 embedded and unknown. And Evelyn -his equal in 
 rank; Evelyn, well cultivated; Evelyn, so long courted 
 so deeply studied - had such advantages ovor the poor 
 peasant-girl! Still the poor peasant-girl often soomed 
 to smile on him from that fair face; and in Evelyn ho 
 half loved Alice again. 
 
 So these two persons now met daily; their intercourse 
 was even more familiar than l)ef. re; their several minds 
 grew hourly more developed and transparent to each 
 other. But of love, Maltravers still forbore to speak- 
 they wore friends, -no more; such friends as the dis- 
 parity of their years and their experience might warrant 
 them to be. And in that young aiul innocent nature, 
 --with Its rectitude, its enthusiasm, and its pious and 
 cheerful tendencies, - Maltravers found freshness in the 
 desert, as the camel-driver lingering at the well. In- 
 sensibly his heart warmed again to his kind. And as 
 the harp of David to the ear of Saul was the soft 
 

 Ih- 
 
 i :^i^- 
 
 430 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 Meanwhile, what was the effect that the presence the 
 attentions of Maltravers produced on Evelyn f Perhau! 
 
 t7:J ;t n'"' T''' ™^^* «^**-« - -^ - 
 
 ail his kind It may seem a paradox, but it might be 
 ha she a. mired and venerated him almost too mS fo 
 love. Sti 1 her pleasure in his society was so evident 
 and unequivocal, her deference to his opinion so ma kel 
 
 muen blindness or forbearance for his faults Canri v,« 
 never sought to mask them), that the mo d ffiSt o 
 men might have drawn from so many symptoX hopes 
 the most auspicious. Since the departure ofTegard T 
 gayeties of Paris lost their charm for Evelyn and more 
 W.an ever she could appreciate the society of her friTnd 
 He thus gradually lost his earlier fears of her fo mint 
 too keen an attachment to the great world- and M T.f^^ 
 
 w me crowd of flatterers and suitors that hovered roi.nrl 
 her Maltravers no longer dreaded a rival. He bel 
 to feel assured that they had both gone thro,»h the 
 
 l»th invited, with^he B^L^L'trZ^'ZlZ 
 at the Vila of De Mc.taigne, near St Cloud Z 
 there rt was that Maltravers determined to know Us 
 
ied hope in 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 431 
 
 resence, the 
 I ? Perhaps 
 IS and most 
 J him witli 
 
 alone from 
 t might bo 
 )0 much for 
 
 so evident 
 so marked, 
 she had so 
 ts (and he 
 iiffident of 
 oms hopes 
 jegard, tha 
 
 and more 
 ler friend, 
 sr forming 
 i as noth- 
 difference 
 red round 
 He began 
 •ough the 
 it a doubt 
 they were 
 
 few days 
 id. And 
 enow his 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Chaos of Thought and Passion all confused. - Pope. 
 
 It is to the contemplation of a very different scene that 
 the course of our story now conducts us. 
 
 iZ'^7""l ^^- S,^'"^ '"'^ ^''^^^^"«^ *h^^« ^^« at that 
 time (perhaps there still is) a lone and melancholy 
 
 house appropriated to the insane. _ melancholy, not 
 
 from Its site, but the purpose to which it is devoted 
 
 i laced on an eminence, the windows of the mansion 
 
 command -beyond the gloomy walls that gird he 
 
 garden ground -one of those enchanting prospects 
 
 which win for France her title to La bL! Thl 
 
 the glorious Seine is seen in the distance, broad and 
 
 winding through the varied plains, and 'beside the 
 
 clear blue sky of France, the forest-lands of Versailles 
 and St. Germains stretch in dark luxuriance around and 
 atar There you may see, sleeping on the verge of the 
 landscape, the mighty city, crowned with the thousand 
 spires from which, proud above the rest, rises the eyry 
 of Napoleon's eagle, the pinnacle of Notre Dame 
 
 «n.. """f';, 'TT^'''^' ^^' ^^''^ «*'" commands the 
 survey of the turbulent world below, and madness gazes 
 upon prospects that might well charm the thoughtful 
 eyes of imagination or of wisdom! In one of the rooms 
 
 was furnished even with elegance; a variety of books 
 strewed the tables; nothing for comfort or Vr solao 
 
t1 
 
 HI 
 
 Is 
 
 ii 
 
 ri 
 
 fa 
 
 tf's ' 
 
 il 
 
 
 j . 
 
 Ml 
 
 I It 
 
 432 
 
 ALICE; OR, THK MYSTERIES. 
 
 was omitted. Cesanni was alono; leaning his cheek 
 upon his hand, he gazed on the beautiful Ll tranauU 
 view we have described. " And an. I never lo"\ 
 free foot on that soil again?" he muttered indignantl 
 as he broke from his reverie. '^ignanuy, 
 
 sur^eon'orr''""^' '"^*^' ^''^'' '^ '^' '^^ ^^ode (a 
 
 upon the latter J the surgeon, after a few words of salu- 
 tation withdrew to a corner of the room, and appeared 
 
 ^-. Milan. m;r^~:^^i^;f 
 
 hingsaroundme? Am /mad? You k o v Tat 
 
 am not! " ^ ^ '"' "^'^ "^^^^' "^ ^^^^^^ I 
 
 inJlf *"" w '^'"' ^^'-'^truccio," said De Montaigne, sooth- 
 
 When next I .oe you perliaps you may be recovered 
 efficiently to dismiss the doctor and e'hange the 2 
 
 Ccsarini had listened to this speech with a mockin.. 
 sarcasm on -his lip. but an expression of such WleJ 
 wretchedness in his eyes as they alone can compSnd 
 
 II 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTEKIEh. 
 
 433 
 
 who have witnessed madness in its lucid intervals. Ho 
 
 '"o "Taii t «'? '"' '^^^'^^ gloomily on his breast. 
 
 ^0, said he; I want nothing b-t free air or death 
 
 — no matter which." '^' 
 
 Be Montaigne stayed some time with the unhap„^■ 
 man, and sought to soothe him; but it was in vain 
 Yet when he rose to depart, Cesarini started up, nnd 
 fixing on him Ins large wistful eyes, exclaimed, " Ah, 
 do not leave me yet! It is so dreadful to be aloue with 
 the dead and the worse than dead! " 
 «tifl?H ^'■'"'''^"^^\*^™^d aside io wipe his eyes, and 
 stifle the rising at his heart; and again he sat, and Igain 
 he ought to soothe. At length Cesarini, 'seemi^ly 
 more calm gave him leave to depart. " Go," said he^ 
 
 tW ^t' in r"""'? ^ '"" ^'^^''' *^"* ^ ^'^^^ her tenderly, 
 that I shall hve to tell her children not to be poets 
 
 Stay; you asked ,f there was aught I wished changed. 
 
 les; this room: it is too still; I hear my own pulse 
 
 beat so loudly in the silence, -it is horrible! There 
 
 IS a room below, by the window of which there is a tree 
 
 and the winds rock its boughs to and fro. and it sighs 
 
 ?o1T.T;'. " ^^"> *^""S' '' ^^" ^« pleasant to 
 look at that tree, and see the birds come home to it 
 
 — yet that tree is wintry and blasted too! It will be 
 
 pleasant to hear it fret and chafe in the stormy nights; 
 
 It will be a friend to me, that old tree! Let in- have 
 
 that room Kay, look not at each other: it is not so 
 
 high as this; but the window is barred, -I cannot 
 
 escape! And Cesarini smiled. 
 
 "Certainly," said the surgeon, "if you prefer that 
 room; but it lias not so fine a view." 
 
 " I hate the view of the world that has cast me off • 
 when may I change ? " ' 
 
 " This very evening. " 
 
 88 
 
434 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 ^. J Thank you; it will be a great revolution i„ n.y 
 
 As soon as it was deen n;„l,f fu i . ' . . 
 keeper paid, and. .ave now a d ^ T "^'"^ "^ '''« 
 
 the casement. It was then fhT'n • '"'^^ ^^'' '^^ 
 
 found inventions Ld^ '"T'"^ '*''*'''S^"^« ^"^ P^O" 
 
 Jealous rn/Tth tei:era rrr^ -^^-^'^^ 
 abandoned and wander n/l.fi "^y™idons! The 
 
 inore fondly to he bZf, "T"'^^"'^^'^ ^^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 With .ore Usionat s Cf^^^^^^^^^ ^"! ^-^-- 
 
 had so enchanted the poor *r,'\ "^"^ ^^^^«* 
 
 mniac? A large nirnrrr'; '"i^'^"^'*^ '^« P^""- 
 in the garden;!" d Wrd^d jfj" ^' T'^"^^"^ 
 inspired him with the bnn * r '"'''''"' ^* ^ad 
 
 clnys far gonT he had r. 7°. ?! ^'^''''^'' '^^''^' ^^ the 
 effected i of the ston' ^^V'onders that had been 
 
 that the most celebrated of thoIT i , / ^«'»embered 
 
 live a life against w h d "^ / « n/'"'"^""^^''^ ^^« 
 
 and give me but a rusty naH a^^ T i,??"! "^^ P"^«»' 
 
 and your walls ! " He reJ to f 1 ^^ , ^'"' ^^^^^^^ 
 «e crept to the window; he exam- 
 
iion m my 
 
 ked hfippy. 
 re hinisolf 
 
 transferred 
 
 sit of the 
 3ine sharp 
 ?! all was 
 ight came 
 
 and keen 
 y bars of 
 ■ew from 
 concealed 
 possessed 
 
 watched 
 and pro- 
 ling the 
 s! The 
 ler child 
 
 features 
 nd what 
 the poor 
 lentally 
 
 it had 
 
 in the 
 id been 
 fi'ed — 
 inhered 
 es who 
 prison, 
 jailers 
 exam- 
 
 alick; on, tiik mysteries. 
 
 435 
 
 ined his relic by the dim starli.^ht- ho k;..orl -f 
 sionately. and the tears stood in"hi,; "t" ' '"" 
 Ah who shall determine the worth of 'things? No 
 king that night so prized his crown as the r^i 
 prized that rusty inch of wire ih ^'''"*'" 
 
 rubbish-cart and duth I VTh J-T^'°' ^''^ "^ "^" 
 n^A 11 , . , """gnill. Little didst thou think 
 
 the nlTTfl "^"" '^^'^ ^---^ "- ^"11 metalTom 
 the fire, of what precious price it was to become ! 
 
 Cesarini, with the astuteness of his maladv h.^ 1. 
 
 marked out this chamber for tho ..1 i 1 • ' "^ 
 
 T,„ u J , ^"ttiuuer lor cne scene of his oner,if,inn<j' 
 
 he had observed that the framework in which Xv 
 
 in fr,„ • i • , ground; that the noise made 
 
 n the winter nights by the sighing branches of the old 
 
 m n tw T'\''i''' "^^ ^^""'^ «^ "- ^«- wort 
 man Now, then, his hopes were to be crowned. Poor 
 fool! and even thou hast hope still' All fhnf n,- w i? 
 toiled and toiled, and sought to work L t . tt : 
 file; now he tried the bars, and now the framework 
 Alas! he had not learned the skill in such tools pot 
 sessed by his reaowned model and inspirer; the fle'h 
 was worn from his fingers; the cold dro'ps s ood on hi 
 
 bSht hTS ^"^^"^" ''-' ''--^ - ^ ^"^ '^- 
 
 pIem:jt:td\\1a^S^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 restltt^'f', ?T "if' *^^ ^^"^^ tash,-.the same 
 turni . V. ^'"^*^' """^ ^^y' ^'"^^^ Cesarini re- 
 turned from his moody walk in the gardens (pleasure 
 gro^inds they were called by the owner') . he found better 
 workmen than he at the window. The^ were repair " 
 the framework; they were strengthening the bars -all 
 hope was now gone! The nnfortunat'e saidTothin! 
 too cunning to show h-'s despair, he eyed them "2"' 
 
 
436 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 and cursed tliem ; b„t Uie old tr«e was left .r-U a . . 
 was sometlung, - com,«nv and r„ "f • ^"' '"'^ ''"* 
 
 :'-kness begin, to stall apa e o;e^th^ch^Mn^^^ 
 i"g «uu), when !,e was accosted hv . f i, '^''*'''" 
 
 to havo Le- r f '"' •'^cquahitance; for t].ey try 
 same, tho,^ .;■;"'" ^''"^ P^'^^'^'^' ^ven ... do the 
 been; wa^-r o/ Ld ^ /^rl ^"'^^ ' ^^^^ '^'^» ^ad 
 honors Ini ribl n " H'^^^Poleon, had received 
 
 •i-amcd ofLeing ;;;; h f R : r^^* "^ ^^"^^^^ ^-« 
 
 in the hov.r of his n H.p T. '' ^''"'^'^ ^^"'^^'' '""^ 
 
 himself a n,o,lh H beh' 1:"%'^''?^^ *« ^^^^ 
 
 oiogy.that he was Jlio^tT^Ji^ '::rii:t7'" 
 
 a fancy to Cesaiini TJ^ ° , °""' '""' '»'"■> 
 
 .hunnod TimTr than Ir 'T '"","' °'''»""' '"'i 
 rail against", w„gtln:*;"Vi:VT- "°"'"' ""^' 
 
 season for escape!" " "'"'=' '' *« 
 
 Cesatini started; the ex-offlcer continued: _ 
 
 « might tave «„ .vo,.st. Yon ^^1;';! S;;:; 
 
still, and fcliat 
 
 ALICE ; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 437 
 
 . /^"^ madman my best companion'" thouaint r 
 
 sZ sti" "ivr iff- - °"'"™ -^' 
 
 tne I anoo Xo matter, he talks of escane. " 
 And how think you." said the Italian aloud 
 how thn.k you that we have any chance of Z'iv a 1' V' 
 . Hush -speak lower," said the soldier « In L 
 
 let us climb noiselessly ot' tLZilT '""" "'r"' 
 fWe,etaMe beJs til[ w.-^ltrtr Tut"! 
 
 n"L him' ^TTV*" '"' '^ «'»"- « "■-" ' 1 
 
 t^iste^a nS wr' ::;,?! " '"''''"^\ ' '"^ 
 smile « Tha 17 1 M?: '^ "''''"''^°' ^^itli a horrid 
 Z • V,. '^''' '"" ^^'P "« over the wall • and 
 
 the n,ght soon grows dark at this season." ' 
 
 tesarini listened, and his heart beat quick "Will 
 It be too late to try to-night 1 " said he , in a whispef 
 
 you rehire tirio ma^^^o^seffr ''''''''' ^°"'' 
 
 " wZril ^ ^'""^t-^"? "'"^^ "''""S^^- I ^"^ ready." 
 jailel 'T^v'^.f '-^^ ^'^^ ^^«*°^-d: one of the 
 jailers! Talk easily, smile, _ laugh. This wiv " 
 They passed by one of the watch of the plafe nd ust 
 
 CesS T' - "l^ ^--g. ^he soldirrrit 
 Cesanm, Sir. will you favor me with your snuff- 
 
 " I have none. " 
 

 438 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES 
 
 \i , .1 
 
 M 
 
 Ij 
 
 
 u 
 
 turned to the scout, « ,„ay I request you to look in my 
 
 vTn^t 7{ ^""^-"^^-^^-'^ - 0" the chimney-piece "t 
 will not take you a minute." 
 
 The soldier was one of those whose insanity was 
 deemed most harmless; and his relations, who were rTch 
 and wel-born, had requested every indulgence to be 
 
 paired o the house. As soon as the trees hid him 
 runTu'ick"' ''^ '''''''' " ''''' ^'"'^'' - ^" ^--. and 
 So saying the maniac crouched low. and glided along 
 
 ref. V?.''^'^ "^"^ ^''^ ""'' '^^^^^"^ Cesafini. They 
 reached the paling that separated the vegetable-garden 
 from the pleasure-ground. The soldier vaulted ovlr" 
 with ease; Cesarini, with more difficulty, followed 
 They crept along; the herbs and vegetable bed th 
 
 their long bare stalks, concealed their movement ;^he 
 
 said the soldier, through his ground teeth, mutterin^r 
 some old watchword of the wars, and (while Garni 
 below, held the ladder steadfast) he rushed 1 th st p ' 
 and with a sudden effort of his muscular a'rm hurS 
 the gardener to the ground. The man. surprised half 
 
 But hit ? T"^ ^' ""'"'''^ ^°"^«"«« f«r help! 
 
 But help came too late; these strange and fearful com- 
 rades had already scaled the wall, had dropped „ the 
 other side, and were fast making across theTusky fie d 
 to the neighboring forest. ^ 
 
 >f • II 
 
 feS.i 
 
 f| 
 
ALICE; OR THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 439 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Q. . , Hopes and Fears 
 
 Start up alarmed, and o'er life'., narrow ver^e 
 
 Look down : on what ! - a fathomless ab'2 ! 
 
 YOUNO. 
 
 many a royal chase. Tho soTli/r ^ , " ''°"' "' 
 been innred to l,ards),i„7 and t t," * ■^'"'* ''"'' 
 our mother ,vit J'„TirZ 1 , "^""""'°"' "*■'* 
 had made a fire by "fe Sion of r"" ""•'' """"- 
 wood, .,e,, „ood L lTZ:l^ ZZ °' ''^ 
 -Wtened the level ground, and 1„; dZt 1 1,,™"' 
 «.d when it was discovered, the Ll ^v'a s L: ob™' 
 — however, the Are blazed red at li,t nl ,Z^' 
 n.on„d, shaded by a semi-circle oh "trees s°at"" 
 outlaws of human reason. They cowered over Vel 1 
 
 sr i-rLr-b^i *' ..arc criir;:;::: 
 
 leatures. And each in his heart longed to rid himself 
 of his mad neighbor; and each folt the awe of so ^de 
 t;.d.adof^sleephe^ 
 
 bPe'n^r' " 7^!^". '"''""'' ^'•^^^^•"S « «'J^nce that had 
 been long kept, "this is cold work at the best and 
 hunger pinches me; I almost regret the prison." ' 
 o.r.% T "^ ^^" '"^^'" '^'^ Cesarini, "and I do not 
 iZtyT"'""'"^ ' " ^^^^"^"^ -^^ ^- *he sense of 
 

 r ) 
 
 y ■ 
 
 hi f 
 
 I 
 
 440 
 
 « rr 
 
 ALICE; OK, THE MYSTERIES, 
 
 Try and sleep." quoth tlie soldier with . 
 and sinister softness of voice- « wn . ; n 7^ ■ '''^'''°8 
 to watch. " ' '"" ' ' ^^ke it by turns 
 
 ;; I cannot sleep; take you the first turn." 
 Harkye, sir! " said the soldier, sullenlv " T n . 
 nut have my commands disputed; now we ar'e frL 
 -•e no longer equal: lam heir to the LTJ JT' """ 
 md J^avarre. Sleep, I say» " ^^ ^'^"'^^ 
 
 cel^^.il;:i!;;'X"^"'i^' '^^'^ °^ ^-^-^'" --d 
 
 seized h s com ade r '^'"" "^ '^' ^' "'^^ ^^^^ 
 
 Earth and lir h '^1^ f'"'^ '"^ '^'' ^^^^^^^ of 
 Stars. I ^^^T^C^.'t^^rtT''^ 
 
 ^-^evenno:^r-^t:--^^ 
 
 -f n,;^<^:^--- rtjt^dr ^^ ^^-' 
 
 madman for a jailer." ^«^enuess, and give me a 
 
 are you, — w\ t f]pv;i *. f ^"d who 
 
 guards are at hand! " pointi ,. i ''''.?,.' ^"'' °"' 
 
 trees that grouped round ng Iv L f " ^f.^^'^^l^t^n 
 
 At ihai- y^ i ., "6' -^ly oui ness. "Be£?onc'" 
 
take it by turns 
 
 awce; ok, the aivsteki,.;,. ^m 
 
 after mo J -^betrayed!" 'JV « n- 
 
 f(^^^arini; but tbe HalianntT^^^^ ^'"-^at 
 
 ^- f:bun.ea brand from b ^1^7 T l^'" ^""«''^ '^ 
 «"J h; the face of bis assail t' n. ?'/• *'"' ''''''^'"« 
 ;=,'-y of pain, and recoiled C ,. , T^'''''''' ""^^^^ '^ 
 ^•-arini, whose madness. ;t'n '-t' "'" ^'■^'-»^-l- 
 tJ'o most deadly nature, aJI , '"?>; .^°"-'J' ^^""^ of 
 l-buWy nothing but .Cth ouir; '" ""^^'^"' ""^ 
 f'/es; but again the bay of Li ""' separated tlie 
 
 nni, answering tlio sm.n.l I ^^'7'' ^"'''^' «"'! Cesa- 
 
 "- brand, and^flerar^tto^u^h «''/^"' '''''' ^-- 
 ceivable swiftness H, , ^ ^'''''* ^^^^ incon- 
 
 dell.-andthebough toii lis "" "''""°^' '^"^^ and 
 
 ^^' - but ^topped ^:^L^;:i!:::n;;i -^ 7^^;^^ his 
 
 ^'^' ground, breathless and exWt f' ^""^ "" 
 
 soi.e far-off clock tlie seen,. I ,'''l'''^' ^^^ beard from 
 
 wh. .ne. roofs of scZZl on '^"'' ^'"''' ^"^ the 
 
 and the reas.. .ng n.an ^ p^Ted 'r"' '^'^"^^ ^^^ 
 the senses which recent pv f *' '^''"'" "Pon 
 
 "dually disturbed. The 'b """ ''''' "'°^^ ^ban 
 peaceful abodes, and s^ed j:^:^i;:Tb' ^""'^ ^* ^^- 
 the earth, he crept into^one o ti? ^ ^ t'"'. "''"^' ^^'^"^ 
 the farmhouse, and hro ," ht'. Jf "'"' ^^^^^"'^^ 
 slept sound and quietly 7u i " '" •'°"*^ «traw, 
 
 l-ants in the stllll^.^f/hfm "' "^^ ^^^^^ «^ 
 
 approached the star 1^1 n '""T ""'' ""^ ^''' ^^^^^^e. Ho 
 
 -If asatravelle^^tlTrtl''"' "^^^^^"^^"^ ^-- 
 ^^'"idst the forest. ^ J d f ' f /'^ ^" "^'^ "^^^^-^ ^"^ 
 his garments were torn . '"'^ '"^*^''- ^-^^bough 
 
 -n; hi voice ts mild'l-3^Xr'^^' '"' ^^ ^'^^'^ ^^^^ 
 
 , ftis whole appearance and ad- 
 

 It 
 
 
 442 
 
 amce; or, the mysteries. 
 
 dress those of one of Homo .station — aiul tho French 
 peasant is a hospitable foHovv. Cesarini refreshed and 
 rested himself an hour or two at tho farm, and then 
 resumed his wanderings. He oiroro.l no money, for the 
 rules of the asylum forbade money to its inmates: ho 
 had none with him; but none was expected from him, 
 and tliey bade him farewell as kindly as if he had bought 
 their blessings. He then began to consider where lie 
 was to take refuge, and how provide for himself; the 
 feeling of liberty braced, and for a time restored, his 
 intellect. 
 
 Fortunately, he had on his person, besides some rings 
 of trifling cost, a watch of no inconsiderable value, the 
 sale of which might support him, in such obscure and 
 humble quarter as he could alone venture to inhabit for 
 several weeks, perliaps months. This thought made 
 hira cheerful and elated; he walked lustily on, shun- 
 rung the highroad. The day was clear, the sun bright, 
 the air full of racy h.alth. Oh, what soft raptures 
 swelled the heart of the wanderer, as he gazed around 
 him I The poet and the freeman alike stirred within 
 his shattered heart! He paused to contemplate the 
 berries of the icy trees, to listen to the sharp glee of 
 the blackbird; and once _ when he found beneath a 
 hedge a cold scentless group of hardy violets -he 
 laughed aloud in his joy. In that laughter there was 
 no madness no danger; but when, as he journeyed 
 on, he passed through a little hamlet, and saw the chil- 
 dren at play upon the ground, and heard from the open 
 door of a cabin the sound of rustic music, then, indeed, 
 he paused abruptly; the past gathered over hira: he 
 knew that zvhich he had been, that tohich he was noio ' 
 — an awful memory! a dread revelation! And cover- 
 ing his face with his hands, he wept aloud. In those 
 
tho Frencli 
 •cfreshed and 
 rm, and then 
 oney, for the 
 
 inmates: liis 
 d from him, 
 G had bought 
 lor where lie 
 himself; the 
 restored, hid 
 
 amcr; oij, thf: mysteries. 443 
 
 woke from then, to think of hi,s youth; his hones of 
 
 fr rx't" '"'T- ''""''^'' ^^^^' ^''^^s--' i-tt' : 
 
 fi d tl s^^^^^ to encounter the tiger in his lair than 
 
 nna thyself alone with that miserable man I 
 
 s some rings 
 le value, the 
 
 obscure and 
 ' inhabit, for 
 ought made 
 y on, shun- 
 
 sun bright, 
 oft raptures 
 [azed around 
 irred within 
 eraplate tlie 
 larp glee of 
 d beneath a 
 violets — he 
 jr there was 
 3 journeyed 
 aw the chil- 
 3m the open 
 len, indeed, 
 er him : he 
 e was note ! 
 And cover- 
 . In those 
 
Il 11 
 
 444 
 
 ALICE; OK, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 It seemed the laurel chaste and stubborn oak, 
 And all the gentle trees on earth that grew ;' 
 It seemed the land, the sea, and heaven above, 
 AU breathed out fancy sweet, and sighed out love. 
 
 Fairfax: Tasto. 
 
 At De Montaigne's villa, Evelyn for the first time 
 gathered from the looks, the manners, of Maltravers that 
 she was beloved. It was no longer possible to mistake 
 the evidences of affection. Formerly, Maltravers had 
 availed himself of his advantage of years and experience, 
 and would warn, admonish, dispute, oven reprove- 
 formerly, there had been so much of seeming caprice of 
 cold distance, of sudden and wayward haughtiness,' in 
 his bearing: but now, tlie whole man was changed -_ 
 the Mentor had vanished in the lover; he held his 
 being on her breath. Her lightest pleasure seemed to 
 have grown his law; no coldness ever alternated the 
 deep devotion of liis manner; an anxious, a timid a 
 watchful softness replaced all his stately self-pnssession 
 Evelyn saw that she was loved, and she then looked 
 into her own heart. 
 
 I have said before that Evelyn was gentle even to 
 yiehhngness ; that her susceptibility made her shrirk 
 from the thought of pain to another; and so thoroucrhlv 
 did she revere Maltravers -so grateful did she feel for a 
 love that could not but flatter pride, and raise her in her 
 self-esteem — that she felt it impossible that she could 
 reject his suit. " Then, do I love him as I dreamed I 
 
 '.»«!!t 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 445 
 
 could love? " .she asked herself; end her heart gave no 
 mtelhgible reply. " Yes; it raust be so: i„ hfs pres- 
 ence 1 feel a tranquil and eloquent charm; hispL'e 
 Jehghts rne; lus esteem is my most high ambition ;nd 
 yo- and ye -"she sighed and thought of Legard. 
 
 th I ;r "''•' " '^"^ "^^« turned restlessly from 
 
 that image. He thinks but of the world, of pleasure • 
 Matravers is right _ the spoiled children of socLT; 
 cannot love. Why should I think of him ? " ^ 
 
 iiiere were no guests at the villa except Maltravers 
 Eve yn, and Lord and Lady Doltimore.' Evel nas' 
 much captivated by che graceful vivacity of TereTa 
 though that vivacity was not what it had been before h"; 
 brother s affliction; their children, some of whom were 
 
 f jBe^MT'"'"'?^-'" '""'^^^^ '-'"^^ intelligent family ; 
 desriS hi 1"''" ^'"""^' ""^ ^ereeable and winning 
 despite his sober manners, and his love of philosophica 
 dispute. Evelyn often listened thoughtfully to Tel a' 
 .raises of^ her husband, _ to her account of' the hapji- 
 r^^ss she had known in a marrvage where there had been 
 great a disparity of years. Evelyn began to ques" 
 o..n the truth of her early visions of romance. 
 
 Cax-o ine saw the unequivocal attachment of Maltra- 
 vers with the same indiflference with which she hadantt 
 cipa ed he suit of Legard. It was the same to her wh t 
 hand delivered Evelyn and herself from the designs o 
 Va grave; but Vargrave occupied nearly all her thoughts 
 The newspapers had reported him as seriously ill lat 
 one time in great danger. He was now recovering, but 
 shl unable to quit his room. He had written to her 
 one lamenting his ill-fortune, trusting soon to be at 
 1 aris and touching with evident pleasure upon Legard's 
 
 ing Post." But he was afar, alone, 
 
 ill, untended; and 
 
I. t 
 
 I.. 'II . 
 
 446 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MVSTERIES. 
 
 though Caroline's gmlty love had been much abated bv 
 Vargrave s icy selfishness, by absence and remorse, 
 till she had the heart of a woman: and Vargrave was 
 the only one that had ever touched it. She felt for 
 ium, and grieved in silence; she did not dare to utter 
 •sympathy aloud, for DoJtimoro had already given evi- 
 dence of a suspicious and jealous temper 
 
 Evelyn was also deeply affected by the account of her 
 guavdian s Illness As 1 before said, the moment he 
 ceased o be her lover, her childish affection for him 
 returned. She even permitted herself to write to him • 
 and a tone of melancholy depression which artfully per- 
 vaded his reply struck her with something like remorse. 
 He to d her in that letter that he had much to say to 
 her re atm to an investment in conformity with her 
 stepfather s wishes, and he should hasten to Paris, sven 
 before the doctor would sanction his removal. Vargrave 
 forbore to mention what the meditated investment was. 
 The last public accounts of the minister had. however, 
 been so favorable that his arrival might be almost daiW 
 expected; and both Caroline and Evelyn felt relieved 
 
 lo De Montaigne, Dlaltravers confided his attach- 
 ment, and both the Frenchman and Teresa sanctioned 
 and encouraged it. Evelyn enchanted them; and they 
 had passed hat age when they could have imagined it 
 possible that the man they had known almost as a boy 
 was separated by years from the lively feelings and ex- 
 treme youth of Evelyn. They coul 'not beleve that 
 the senhmen s he had inspired were colder than those 
 that animated himself. 
 
 One day Maltravers had been absent for some hours 
 on his solitary rambles, and De Montaigne had not yet 
 turned rom Paris, - which he visited almost daily. 
 It was so late in the noon as almost to border on evening 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 447 
 
 M'hen Maltravor., on hh return, entered the grounds bv 
 a gate that separated then, from an extensive Tod hI 
 
 TLT: TeV""1' '''' ''-' '' '- children :i;ng^n 
 a kind of terrace almost immediately before him He 
 
 iZtl '''' rr!' ^^""'^^^' '' ^*^'-' ^* soon Infd 
 that Teresa and himself loitered behind the rest a Httle 
 'listance out of hearing. «Ah, Mr. Maltravers " aM 
 the ormer, "we miss the soft skies of Italy "Ld the 
 beautiful hues of Como." ^ 
 
 to t'ht"*^ ^'' "7 Pf *' ^ '"^'^ *^'^ y«"tl^ «^at gave ' glory 
 to^the grass and splendor to the flower ' » ^ ^ 
 
 should be Tf' '1 ^'.T''' ""'"' ^'^^^^^^ "^^' - ^' ^' least I 
 Ah if his i~; 'f ^ ""f "°* ^^^'^k ^^ -y poor brother, 
 vou it w n [ P"""'^ ^"" '^^ ^"« ^^^'0 was worthy of 
 thT;/. r ^" ''"^'^ '''"^'^^^ *« ^"■^ «i«ter to think at ast 
 that the OSS was repaired. And you still have scrup " 
 Who that loves truly has not? How young how 
 ovely. how worthy of lighter hearts and Lr r^'forml 
 than mine! Give me back the years that have paZ 
 smce we la.t met at Como. and I might hope! " ^ 
 
 with one*or/'""i' '"^' ^"'^ '""^''"'^ -^^h happiness 
 
 Cll?dfgC ''""'• ""' '"" *^ "^ ^^^« *^--S^ the 
 
 tulw^''; P''"^'^' ™' '''^^' ^^''' refinements; you 
 turn from a happiness you have but to demand » ^ 
 
 M.lf '"'^^-.l^ ^°t ^aise my hopes too high," cried 
 
 SraTr^^'rf'r^^^^"' "^ ^-- been'cHoo" g 
 myself all day. But if I am deceived ! " ^ 
 
 r.J/T ,"'? J"'' ^'' "'•*• ^'''' «^en now she turn, 
 round to look for you; she loves you, -loves vou a 
 
 lament does but deepen and elevate her attachment! " 
 
¥i 
 
 448 
 
 ALICE; OR, THK MYSTERIES. 
 
 Teresa turned to Miiltravers, surprised at his silence. 
 How joyous sat his heart upon his looks, — no gloom 
 on his brow, no doubt in his sparkling eyes! He was 
 mortal, and he yielded to the delight of believing him- 
 self beloved. He pressed Teresa's hand in silence, 
 and quitting her abruptly, gained the side of Evelyn. 
 Madame de Montaigne comprehended all that passed 
 within him; and as she followed, she soon contrived 
 to detach her children, and returned with them to the 
 house on a whispered pretence of seeing if their father 
 had yet arrived. Evelyn and Maltravers continued 
 to walk on, — not aware, at first, that the rest of the 
 party were not close behind. 
 
 The sun had set; and they were in a part of the 
 grounds which, by way of contrast to the rest, was laid 
 out in the English fashion. The walk wound, serpent- 
 like, among a profusion of evergreens irregularly planted; 
 the scene was shut in and bounded, except where, at a 
 distance, through an opening of the trees, you caught 
 the spire of a distant church, over which glimmered, 
 faint and fair, the smile of the evening star. 
 
 " This reminds me of home.''' cnid Evelyn, gently. 
 " And hereafter it will remind me of you," said Mal- 
 travers, in whispered accents. He fixed his eyes on her 
 as he spoke. Never had his look been so true to his 
 heart; never had his voice so undisguisedly expressed 
 the profound and passionate sentiment which had 
 sprung up within him, ~ to constitute, as he then be- 
 lieved, the latest bliss, or the crowning misery of his 
 life ! At that moment, it was a sort of instinct that told 
 him they were alone ; for who has not felt — in those 
 few and mt^mcrable hours of lifp when love long sup- 
 pressed overflows the fountain, and seems to pervade the 
 whole frame and the whole spirit — that there is a magic 
 
ALICE; ,)H, TFIK JIYMUKIES. 449 
 
 around and within ns tint l.atl, „ 1 
 than intellect ilJlf u . ^'"'"' '"'""''Benee 
 
 one we love ti 1 wl!„I "nl ''™'' "" ''"" "'"■ "'» 
 «nd onr f et to hit 7°' ''"'''' ™'""'' >" ™"i*. 
 
 have e„„„:rth::a?r:,i;;:;t *• »"• »^ »- ^p^ tj 
 w.^<fi;7h:,:iT;ha,f"" ■"■^ '"" '^-^'y" '--"»' 
 
 « Miss ifrX,™ "'satt:;:"" '™' f "="" ' 
 W walked .so„,e',„„„7nt; i" il^ce T'!' *^ '""J 
 h>t you, reason a. .ell as ,our ht^^ply'^ro;; U, 
 
 nrst moment we met vnn v. i ^ 
 
 1 ' y"" became dear to me V«= 
 
 I ove you better tftan all words can tell ' Yorr f^/ "" 
 
 '"^rL7eitkTJ:t7i:^T^ "^^^^^^ 
 
 different, Evel.n: I havlk 'ot "1 vT-^ tT 
 d.sa,„„„,t,e„ts an.1 the experience thatTave" 
 
 mt ?t J '""^ ''^"""'"" °f ""■■ '"M. - which 
 
 may It be yours, sweet Evelyn, ever to rol,i„ T„ 
 
 e t^,e foretold by the preacher as let" „f al ha"' 
 "1 andTh r ^''■' '"= ="" '"" '»= "-" -e ^a - 
 
 32 
 
450 
 
 ALICE ; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 your lot to mine! AnsAvor not from friendship or from 
 pity ; the love I feel for you can have a reply from love 
 alone, and from that reasoning which love, in its endur- 
 ing power — in its healthful confidence, in its prophetic 
 foresight — alone supplies! I can resign you without a 
 murmur; but I could not live witli you and even fancy 
 that you had one care I could not soothe, though you 
 might have happiness I could not share. And fate does 
 
 not present to me any vision so dark and terrible, no, 
 
 not your loss itself; no, not your iiidifference; no, not 
 your aversion, — as your discovery, after time should 
 make regret in vain, that you had mistaken fancy or 
 friendship for affection, — a sentiment for love. Eve- 
 lyn , I have confided to you all, — all this wild heart, now 
 and evermore your own. My destiny is with you! " 
 
 Evelyn was silent; he took her hand, —and her tears 
 fell warm and fast upon it. Alarmed and anxious, he 
 drew her towards him and gazed upon her face. 
 
 " You fear to wound me," he said, with pale lips and 
 trembling voice. " Speak on, — I can bear all." 
 
 " No, no," said Evelyn, falteringly; "I have no fear 
 but not to deserve you. " 
 
 "You love me, then,— you love me! " cried Maltra- 
 vers wildly, and clasping her to his heart. 
 
 The moon rose at that instant, and the wintry sward 
 and the dark trees were bathed in the sudden light. 
 The time; the light, so exquisite to all, even in loneli- 
 ness and in sorrow, — how divine in such companion- 
 ship, in such overflowing and ineffable sense of bliss! 
 There and then for the first time did Maltravers presa 
 upon that modest and blushing cheek the kiss of lova, 
 of hope, — the seal of a union he fondly hoped the grave 
 itself could not dissolve I 
 
 '-m^ 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 ' li 
 
 
 ( 
 
 
 
 
ALICE ; OR, THE MYSTEKIES. 
 
 451 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Queen. Whereon do you look "^ 
 
 Ha.le, On hi:„-on hi™, -look you how pale he glares • 
 
 Hamlet. 
 
 ...... — ,.uritr ~ 'if. i'z 
 
 the transport, the dpHri'iiTi, r.t ■ ^ "^'^^ 
 
 thoughts ■;,.; he p„, 7 to, "Xrin'^'h^'-'-'r' 
 
'!■■ I 
 
 I' • ^ 
 
 452 
 
 ALICE ; on, THE mystekies. 
 
 He ceased abruptly. At that instant tliey were once 
 
 more on the terrace where lie had first joined Teresa, 
 
 facing the wood, which was divided by a sliglit and low 
 
 palisade from the spot where they stood. He ceased 
 
 abruptly, for his eyes encountered a terrible and ominous 
 
 opposition, —a form connected with dreary associations 
 
 of fate and woe. The figure had raised itself up.. a a pile 
 
 of firewood on the other side the fence, and iience it 
 
 seemed almost gigantic in its stature. It gazed upon the 
 
 pair Avith eyes that burned with a preternatural blaze; 
 
 and a voice which Maltravers too well remembered, 
 
 shrieked out, "Love — love! What! thou love again? 
 
 Where is the dead ? Ha, ha ! Where is the dead ? " 
 
 Evelyn, startled by the words, looked up, and clmig 
 in speechless terror to Maltravers. He remained rooted 
 to the spot. 
 
 " Unhappy man," said he, at length, and soothingly, 
 "how came you hither? Fly not; you are with 
 friends. " 
 
 " Friends ! " said the maniac, with a scornful laugh. 
 ''I know thee, Ernest Maltravers, —I know thee; but 
 it is not thou who hast locked me up in darkness and in 
 hell, side by side with the mocking fiend! Friends! — 
 
 ah, but no friends shall catch me now ! I am free, 
 
 I am free! Air and wave are not more free!" And 
 the madman laughed with horrible glee. " She is fair — 
 fair," he said, abruptly checking lumself, and Avith a 
 changed voice, " but not so fair as the dead. Faithless 
 that thou art, — and yet she loved thee ! Woe to thee ! 
 — woe— Maltravers, the perfidious! Woe to thee, and 
 remorse, — and shame ! " 
 
 " Fear not, Evelyn, — fear not, " whispered Maltra- 
 vers, gently, and placing her behind him; " support your 
 courage, — nothing shall harm you. " 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 453 
 
 foot S'„e?£ nr'y;;;' '^■'"'f "°- >-" <» 
 
 ^ lacy dir. The sound appalled him- 1ip l.acf 1 
 his steps to Evelyn ^ hastened 
 
 hereafter." ^ ' ^^' ^ ^^'i^i explain why 
 
 cent^'^^T,,*'" ""TT '' ''^''^' "'^'Jd^d her acquies- 
 
 but I We Just heard a't Paris t lat^lTt"] 7' 
 escaped: you know whom I mean?" " ^'' 
 
 "I do; he is at hand. Send in search of him » T 
 have seen him! Once mnrp T 1, ' "'• 
 
 Cesarini'" ' ^ ^^^' ''^'^ Castrucoio 
 

BOOK IX. 
 
 AtalrdS' ifSr] S,a,pavfi. — SoPH. : (Edip. Tyran. 754. 
 Woe, woe : all thiugs are clear. 
 
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BOOK IX. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ^e privilege that statesmen ever claim. 
 Who private interest never yet pursued 
 But still pretended 't was for others' good. 
 
 With shifted sails a several course you steered. 
 
 Absalom and Achitophel, Part IL 
 
 a'iTe i^nTr'^'f T? ^^ ^^^-^^t regained 
 
 stages, he reached London^Te ^"4^ to^T 
 lapse ; and his recovery was slow and gradual mL T 
 unused to sickness, he bore his confineStith^^': 
 impatience, and against the commands of his phvs LiaT 
 insisted on continuing to transact his official bulne'ss and 
 consult with his political friends in his sick- oom for 
 Lumley knew well that it is most pernicious to^iw 
 men to be considered failing in health: turkeys are no 
 more unfeeling to a sick brother than politicfansi an 
 a^ng statesman; they give out that his head is tould 
 
 despatch. The time, too, nearly ripe for his great 
 schemes, made it doubly necessary that he should ex 
 
 cro'trnder"'^' ^eing shelved with a plausible e. 
 cuse of tender compassion for his infirmities. As soon 
 therefore, as he learned that Legard had left Paris h^ 
 
rr 
 
 in 
 u 1 
 
 it" I !} 
 
 
 WfM 
 
 458 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 thought himself safe for a while in that quarter, and sur. 
 rendered his thoughts wholly to his ambitious projects. 
 Perhaps, too, with tlie susceptible vanity of a middle- 
 aged man, who has had his bonnes fortunes, Lumley 
 deemed, with Rousseau, that a lover pale and liaggard — 
 just raised from the bed of suifering— is more interesting 
 to friendship than attractive to love. He and Rousseau 
 were, I believe, both mistaken; but that is a matter of 
 opinion. They both thought very coarsely of women, —. 
 one from having no sentiment, and the other from hav- 
 ing a sentiment that was but a disease. At length, just 
 as Lumley was sufficiently recovered to quit his house, 
 to appear at his office, and declare that his illness 
 had wonderfully improved his constitution, intelligence 
 from Paris, the more startling from being wholly unex- 
 pected, reached him. From Caroline he learned that 
 Maltravers had proposed to Evelyn, and been accepted. 
 From Maltravers himself he heard the confirmaii-- of 
 the news. The last letter was sliort, but kind and r. 
 
 He addressed Lord Vargrave as Evelyn's gua.(.un, 
 slightly alluded to the scruples he had entertained till 
 Lord Vargrave's suit was broken off, and feeling the 
 subject too delicate for a letter, expressed a desire to 
 confer with Lumley respecting Evelyn's wishes as to 
 certain arrangements in her property. 
 
 And for this was it that Lumley had toiled! for this 
 had he visited Lisle Court! and for this had he been 
 stricken down to the bed of pain! Was it only to make 
 his old rival the purchaser, if he so pleased it, of the 
 possessions of his own family ? Lumley thought at that 
 moment less of Evelyn than of Lisle Court. As he 
 woke from the stupor and the first fit of rage into which 
 these epistles cast him, the recollection of the story he 
 had heard from Mr. Onslow flashed across him. Were 
 
 m 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 459 
 
 With hi. usual e„r : -te S:^"-^ He 'diT 'T"™ 
 
 •• Is t"to I^Ih" it "*•. """"^ ' " **'<» ""e old lady, 
 honor to ^tt:*"' ^"' "'^' ^°" "■-= ^°- - *» 
 iJXr?' ""' *" ™<la™,»3aid Lumley, smil- 
 
 ^-|.s;::i^redTii:a„^-::-r^^^ 
 
 Butler." aoquomlance with the ^id Mr. 
 
 he^motUT '""^"'J' >-- ol him) What ia 
 "Ah, my dear lady I you turn the tables on me I ,n. 
 -for my one question you would give me fiSv R I 
 
 ,et/ind^Tt:^r.X"iCrj,'r "'™^ 
 
 ftat I know it was under that ^Z t^^J ehetside/: 
 — . when my poor uncle first made her aequdn.:!:. 
 
460 
 
 If' i 
 
 III 
 
 V! < 
 
 Iff 
 
 ?5| 
 
 ¥ ' 
 
 li 
 
 ALICE; OR, THK MYSTERIES. 
 
 What! oughttoask is this,- supposing Mr. Butler be 
 til ahve and a gentleman of character and fortunerwouW 
 It please Lady Vargrave to meet with him once mo eT» 
 
 I cannot tell you. " said Mrs. Leslie, smking back in 
 her chair, much embarrassed. ^ 
 
 "Enough; I shall not stir further in the matter 
 GM to see you looking so well. Fine place.-bea;: 
 
 tiful trees. Any commands at C or anv n.. 
 
 for Evelyn?" ' °^ ^"^ "^^''^^^^ 
 
 Lumley rose to depart. 
 
 "Stay," said Mrs. Leslie, recalling all the ninina 
 restless, untiring love that Lady Vargrave L 1 ^' 
 ested towards the lost, and feeling tSX ugl" not 
 to sacnfice to slight scruples the ch'ance of happiness o 
 
 you should address to Lady Vargrave. or shall I ? " 
 
 d.v " ^r./'"^ P''^"P' ^ ^^-^ b«"^r ^^rite. Good- 
 day; and Vargrave hurried away 
 
 satisfy -and that, from certain reasons known but to 
 himself, without brineine thp thi.A '^"";^" "ut to 
 with Tnrl^ Vo """g'"g ^^le third person in contact 
 
 with Lady Vargrave. On arriving at C he wmfp 
 
 therefore, to Lady Vargrave as follows • - ' 
 
 wnicD 1 shall get on my way to Paris. ' 
 
 Yours most truly, 
 
 . , Vargrave. 
 
 As soon as he had concluded and despatched this letter 
 Vargrave wrote to Mr. Winsley as follows:- '""'' 
 
ALICE ; OK, THE MVSTEfilES. 451 
 
 yoZrz HtLTo:: Wet r '^ 'ir''^ *« -" - 
 
 agreeable, the n.ore eLZ'r^yTZtT''' ^"'^^' *^« "^- 
 personal acquaintance bclC qufttf„: r""' ^^ "^" ""^ 
 obhge me with a line to say if I d d L?~^' ^^^'^'^^^ile, 
 «'gnify that you could, if neceiarv nr "°\ "'"^^^t«"'i you to 
 once resided in this own as S ^R Jf ^"' ^^^ ''^'^''^''^ 
 'before she married my uncle „n^ .f '' ^ "^''^ ^^'^^ ^""e 
 Devonshire ; and had'Ihe «; ^t .f "'"''^ ''^ ^^'"^^°"' *» 
 an infant, or nearly so T *^'"* ^""^ " ^^"le girl^ 
 
 ^a^y ^o is r^er^::Z:^:Z'^y ^e theUg 
 reason for thus troubHr.c ,. , ^-^ " Cameron ? My 
 
 guardian, I have "e' "Sv V^'-T' ^^ '^^'^^ ^--ron'! 
 nected with my u„cl?s w , ^;. "^"P ^^^^'''•'^ ^ff^''^ con- 
 popnrty bequeathed b, late Mr S I? "'"!' *^"^ ^^^ -'"^ 
 it necessary to prove icientity. "*^'''' ^''^'^^ "^V «>ake 
 
 Truly yours, 
 
 Varqrave. 
 The answer to the latter communication ran thus.- 
 
 unwell,tTwm'p;V;rpS Tot''' ''^' ^-'^'^^P - 30 
 swear that the pLent Lad v v ^"■"'""°^^- ^ 'Certainly can 
 ^ho resided at C^\^!tJjT""- ^"^ '^' ^^''- ^«"er 
 with her was of the sam tx 2 T\"\ ^"^^ ^^ '^' <^tild 
 Cameron, there can. I sTouTd ttink"^" '^T'""' ^°^ «« ^«- 
 Ji«hi"g the identit; between t . ' "^^*«'<^"Ity in estab- 
 Lady Vargn^ve had^ her'^rst h 1^"?^' "^,^"'^ '""^ '"^''^ 
 this, of course, I cannot speak ' ^"'^"' ''"* ^^ 
 
 I have the honor, etc., etc. 
 
 to town tamcdfa. y „M t ' ■"^"'f "» '» "'""' 
 
 The day after his arr k" hlj '.'"■ '■""' '"' '"'"''"'">■ 
 
 - stmngely blurred I^d'Hotw't '" I '"'™'' ''-"■ 
 short letter.-— "■ I**'!" V tears,— this 
 
^W i 
 
 IL. 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 For Heaven's sake, tell nie what you mean I V». t r 
 did once reside at Dale Cottage- I Z}\ , ,' ^^^ ' ^ 
 
 L'SdT ^°"' '" '""'• " '" "" - ^- ^foT;::it: 
 
 •A.LICE Vargrave. 
 
 forVheTresl:^'™^ ^^' ^"^ '^^ °^' "^^ ^" --ts. 
 
 In answer to Lady Vargrave's letter, he wrote a few 
 
 Imes to say that he had only heard through a tM 
 
 person (a lawyer) of a Mr. Butler residing iLewh re 
 
 pZI tZ ') '"^\"'^*'^' "^ ^«^"« disposit":' f 
 property, that ;,er/.a^, the Mr. Butler who made the 
 
 mquzry was heir to the Mr. Butler she had known thai 
 
 he could earn nothing else at present, as the purpo 
 
 of her reply must be sent abroad,- the lawyer wou d o 
 
 cou d ,,y ,, thing more; that directly he received a fur 
 
 ther communication it should be despatched to her that 
 
 he was most affectionately and most truly hers 
 
 <^..IT^ °Vu'* '""''"^"S "^"^S^^^« devoted to Lord 
 Saxingham and his allies; and declaring, and believing 
 that he should not be long absent at plris. he tTk an 
 eariy dinner, and was about once more to co,;™ t Wei 
 to the risks of travel, when, as he crossed the ha^Mr 
 Douce came hastily upon him. 
 
 3V-*'''^-°^y ^«^d_I must have a word with your 
 U-lordship; you are going to - that is," and the Uttle 
 rnan looked frightened. _ « you intend to - to go to-1 
 that IS — ab-ab-ab — " K" to — 
 
 "Not abscond Mr. Douce; come into the library. 
 wZ^srmlttr^/ ^" ' ^- ^^-^« «- ^oryol 
 
:iES. 
 
 lean I Yea, yes ? I 
 5w one of the name 
 !ar ? Where is he ? 
 I before you leave 
 
 Alice Varqrave. 
 
 3 read, and care- 
 
 — at all events, 
 
 he wrote a few 
 through a third 
 iing somewhere 
 Js to be made; 
 e disposition of 
 
 who made the 
 ad known; that 
 as the purport 
 awyer would or 
 
 received a far- 
 ed to her; that 
 hers. 
 
 ivoted to Lord 
 and believing, 
 ris, he took an 
 iommit himself 
 I the hall, Mr. 
 
 ord with your 
 and the little 
 — to go to — 
 
 the library, 
 time for you. 
 
 ^^^ce; or, the mysteries. 
 
 ^^y. then, my lord — T t t. 
 
 «-m_more from your lordship ab;.Uhr' "^'^'^ "^^'^^^S 
 -t^urchase? T nm rr^- ' , "^ '^"«' Pur-pur— " 
 
 '-With Mi. C,re™"«w° T] "" """' »" "»*„- 
 
 May-n, "' Wl «» lawyers so." 
 
 sho,v-.h,e_V;>; *" out *« ""-y to-.„_ 
 
 -«>«' i». I ™»poct-!Tre4 ™"»''' Otherwise I fear 
 trav™ „,i„ b, „,r ,^^ ^_^ »=«n,I toow that Colo„e, Mai- 
 
 «>= te.. tho„sa,„, p„„„,,., I'X" ; "„;';, """J' 0' '«; and 
 
 J^es, mdeed, tlie ton , "^ "• 
 ^7 - ': '" - *^" - ^'^^ - my partner is 
 
 -otdX 1 1 ^4etr:-'of f: ^r^-"*« ^0 hi- 
 
 to save the packet;" and V.r„ ^T'^^-'""^* be off 
 
 -wlof disappointmentThlsrmV^^^^^^^ ^^^'^ ^'^ -«^^ 
 by this time seated in his carr,/ /"'"'• I^^mley, 
 cloak, had forgotten th ZtlT' T'''' "^ ^ ^^ 
 Pered to his aristocratic secret' I "' '"^ ''^'^'' 
 
 out of the carriage window «n^' .'^ ^^ ''^"^ bi« head 
 to despatch you to me f J '•' *°^^ ^^^^ Saxingham 
 f y for me in London. Ill" "\"" ''''' »-- 
 because your sister being at oult ^'IJ ^^""^' ««^^^^d, 
 our notable premier, yl wilTlV .'''"'' '''"^'■" ^^"h 
 hewind,-youund;rLnd A,^'r ^^^^^ ^^^-^e - 
 think I forget your kindnessT v''^' ^^''^^'^^^^^ ^on't 
 «an ever served me in vain ow^ """'" '^'^ "« 
 little Douce behind you T Tell^^' ^''' ' '^'' borrid 
 y "i lell them to drive on." 
 
mn-, 
 
 464 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE iMYSTEJUES. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Heard you that 1 
 What prodigy of horror is disclosing ? 
 
 LiLLO : Fatal Curiositi/. 
 
 Thr unhappy companion of Cesarini's flight was soon 
 discovered and recaptured; but all search for Cesarini 
 himself proved ineffectual, not only in the neighbor- 
 hood of St. Cloud, but in the surrounding country and 
 in Paris. The only comfort was in thinking that his 
 watch would at least preserve him for some time from 
 the horrors of want; and that by the sale of the trinket 
 he might be traced. The police, too, were set at work, 
 — the vigilant police of Paris! Still, day rolled on 
 day, and no tidings. The secret of the escape was care- 
 fully concealed from Teresa; and public cares were a 
 sufficient excuse for the gloom on De Montaigne's 
 brow. 
 
 Evelyn heard from Maltravers, with mingled emo- 
 tions of compassion, grief, and awe, the gloomy tale 
 connected with the history of the maniac. She wept 
 for the fate of Florence; she shuddered at the curse 
 that had fallen on Cesarini; and perhaps Maltravers 
 grew dearer to her from the thought that there was so 
 much in the memories of the past that needed a com- 
 forter and a soother. 
 
 They returned to Paris, affianced and plighted lovers; 
 and then it was that Evelyn souglit carefully and reso- 
 lutely to banish from her mind all recollection, all 
 regret, of the absent Legard : she felt the solemnity of 
 
Fatal Curiositjj. 
 
 AMf^K; OK, TIFR MYf5TERI^X 4fir, 
 
 the trust confi,l,.l i„ hor, and sl.e rosolvod that no 
 thought of ...rs sl.onhl ovor bo of a natnro to gd t " 
 gonerous and ton.ler spirit that ha,l confMo.l itf ifo "f 
 hfe to her care. Tho influence of Maltravers ov ,.er 
 .ncrea.od ,n their now and more fa.niliar positil nd 
 yet still ,t partook too „u.ch of veneration -too lie 
 of passion; but that might be hor innocenc and yo U 
 He, at least, was sensible of no want -she l.n.l i 
 ^u. from the world and fastidill hf deemedt;:::: 
 self he reposed without a doubt, on the security of Zr 
 faith. None of those presentiments which hid L, n .[ 
 
 ;: ''''z aff:.t'""r '- ''--- 'i't:yers 
 
 now. Ihe affection of one so young and so guileless 
 seemed to bring back to him all his own youth _ we 
 are ever young while the young can love us.' Suddenly 
 too, he world took, to his eyes, a brighter and fli rl; 
 aspe t: hope, born again, reconciled him to his ca e 
 and to his race. The more he listened to EveL the 
 more he watched every evidence of her docile but'gn 
 erous „a ure the more he felt assured that he had found 
 a last a hear suited to his own. Her beautiful sereTty 
 of temper, cheerful, yet never fitful or unquiet 2 
 dened him with its insensible co.L.ion. To bet tli 
 Evelyn was like basking in the sunshine of some h ;' 
 
 with the hack sights and sounds " of this jaded world 
 watch he ever fresh and sparkling thought! uul 
 ancies which came from a soul so new'to life.' It ^ 
 anted one painfully fastidious in what relates to t^^ 
 t ue nobihty of character, that, however various to 
 themes discussed, no low or mean thought ever s^illd 
 hose beautiful lips. It was not the me're innoc4c of 
 mexperience, but the moral incapability of gu le ha 
 charmed him in the companion he had chos'en oL his 
 
 30 
 
fit "f ! fi 
 
 • %} 
 
 \ I 
 
 4GG 
 
 A LICK; OK, THE MYHTKRIKS. 
 
 path to etoriiity. He was also flolig}it(!(l to notice 
 Evolyn'a rcadinoss of resourcew: she liad that faculty 
 without whicli woman has no independence from the 
 world, no pledge that domestic retirement will not 
 soon languisli into wearisome monotony, — the faculty 
 of making trifles contribute to occupation or amusement; 
 she was easily pleased, and yet she so soim reconciled 
 herself to disappointment. He felt, and chid his own 
 duliie.ss for not feeling it before, that, young and sur- 
 passingly lovely as she was, she required no stimulant 
 from the heated pursuits and the hollow admiration of 
 the crowd. 
 
 "Such," thought he, "are the natures that alone can 
 preserve through years the poetry of the fij'st passionate 
 illusion; that can alone render wedlock the seal that 
 confirms affection, and not tlie mocking ceremonial that 
 vainly consecrates its grave!" 
 
 Maltravers, as we have seen, formally wrote to Lumley 
 some days after their return to Paris, He would have 
 written also to Lady Vargrave; but Evelyn thought it 
 best to prepare her mother by a letter from herself. 
 
 Miss Cameron now wanted but a few weeks to the 
 age of eighteen, at which she was to be the sole mistress 
 of her own destiny. On arriving at that age, the mar- 
 riage was to take place. Valerie heard with sincere 
 delight of the new engagement her friend had formed. 
 She eagerly sought every opportunity to increase her 
 intimacy Avith Evelyn, who was completely won by her 
 graceful kindness. The result of Valerie's examination 
 was that she did not wonder at the passionate love of 
 Maltravers ; but that her deep knowledge of the human 
 heart (that knowledge so remarkable in the women of 
 her country !) made her doubt how far it was adequately 
 returned, — how far Evelyn deceived herself. Her first 
 
t(!(l to notice 
 
 I that faculty 
 
 II cc from the 
 out will not 
 — tho faculty 
 V amusement; 
 on reconciloil 
 chid his own 
 umg and sur- 
 no stimulant 
 admiration of 
 
 ;hat alone can 
 fst passionate 
 tlie seal that 
 :emonial that 
 
 »te to Liimley 
 3 would have 
 n thought it 
 herself, 
 veeks to the 
 sole mistress 
 ige, the mar- 
 with sincere 
 had formed, 
 increase lier 
 f won by her 
 examination 
 jnate love of 
 if the human 
 le women of 
 IS adequately 
 f. Her first 
 
 ALICK; OR, TIIK MYSTRRIFS. 
 
 407 
 
 «atisfact.on became mingled m ith anxiety ; and she relied 
 more for the future felicity of her friemi on EwS 
 purity of hought and general tendern..s,s of heart tC 
 on the exclu-siveness and ardo. of her love. A , Z 
 a eighteen arc not too young for the irrevocab stt 
 a ml hvelyn was younger Mian her years. One eveninf/ 
 a Madame de Ventadour's. Maltravers asked E .X J 
 he had yet heard froux Lady Vargravo. Evelyn x 
 n^-ssed her surprise that she had not. and the convers •■ 
 
 "ssS ;::;%'"'•"'' "P"' I^-'y Vargrave herself.' 
 Is si e a fond of mu.sic as you are ? " asked Maltravers. 
 Yes, indeed, I think so, -and of the songs of a cer- 
 ain person in particular; they always had Ir her an 
 ndescnbablo charm. Often have I heard her say ha 
 to read your writings was like talking to an early friend 
 Your name and genius seemed to make her so:it!.ry o i 
 
 be angry,- I h^ilf think it was her enthusiasm, so stranuo 
 and rare, tliat first taught me interest in yourself '' 
 
 said IVrr ' '^'"''^' T"!'' '^''''' ^°"' ^''^"'g y^^' "Mother," 
 said Ma travers, mucli pleased and flattered. « And do s 
 she not like Italian music ? " 
 
 "Not mucJi; she prefers some rather old-fashioned 
 German airs, -very simple, but very touching." 
 
 more'^Lr teT'^ '''''''"" '''' ^^^^--' ^^ -^ 
 
 I 'ZTn^''" ''il '^'T' °"' "^ *^" ^"Slish songs Mhich 
 1 have occasionally, but very seldom, heard her sin« 
 
 pla>^ the air, that I have always attached to it a certain 
 mysterious sanctity. I should not like to sing it before 
 a crowd; but to-morrow, when you call on me, and we 
 are alone — " 
 
 " Ah, to-morrow I will not fail to remind you." 
 
fe 
 
 '* \ 
 
 468 
 
 ALICE ; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 Their conversation ceased; yet somehow or other, 
 that night, when he retired to rest, the recollection of 
 it haunted Maltravers. He felt a vague, unaccountable 
 curiosity respecting this secluded and solitary mother; 
 all concerning her early fate seemed so wrapped in mys- 
 tery. Cleveland, in reply to his letter, had informed 
 him that all inquiries respecting the birth and first 
 marriage of Lady Vargrave had failed. Evelyn evi- 
 dently 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. More- 
 over, lovers have so much to say to each other that he 
 had not yet found time to talk at length to Evelyn 
 about third persons. He slept ill that night, —dark 
 and boding dreams disturbed his slumber. Ho rose 
 late, and dejected by presentiments he could not mas- 
 ter; 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 unneces- 
 sary 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 estrange- 
 ment has happened you alone can determine. For my 
 part, I am conscious of no oifence; 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. T 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 
 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIK.S. 469 
 
 of you both. I d ;^'V;! '''^'^'^^'^^ «»^ the union 
 t-een n.e and a ear l' ^rT7"'-\ 'T "^^" ^'"^"^^ ^^' 
 •suffered in silent 1 '"'''^^ ^^^^'"- ^ut I 
 
 e^ted, perhap;^^.;ror^ iH j;:: ^^^^ '^f-- 
 you cross my nnth v^„ • \P'^^^- ^ second time 
 
 long learned'tm?/;' , r T T " "'■"' ' ''"" 
 0' early frie,uW,ip; you Wn „^ , '" "° '"""''' 
 acknowledged and alia "oed ties T '"'' '°™"'' 
 with Evelyn Caincro,, 1, T " ""''' ""^ "™l 
 
 , "vargje,.- :r''k:;/v::: ""': '-p-^i-"-" 
 
 'mnkly; and I will renlv °7. ' ^ ,''"™ "P"'™ 
 <liffere„ee of ,a,iee, temper nd „" ■''^""' r'""'- ^ 
 since into opposite naZ T '"""'"'' '"' "* '""K 
 Mite public Lramr, •™ """ "■'■» «■'"" dis- 
 
 to have been those oSnJ^t I ^ "'""''^ ' •'"U 
 
 cwe yo„ opii:i'"(S :rt"iiThf r' 
 
 -Ueonnt L^Jr^e^X^c %L'S 
 
 "Pect lo the dead e nf "■"""■ ■*^"'' "- 
 
 grave,_IaeX^ofan,,?:' ^^ "T' *»' eanly 
 
 -ifered .orelhan^vonldl" ' 1 erfm?''V:"t '■" 
 
 *e was fee,tr h:::t and 7n hTn t Jlh'" f f "" 
 US, did I liinf «f 1. T . ' *^ ^'^'^o^^ between 
 
 ^'.onnd t:,"sl™ irpo^n 7:^, f d" "^ ™^ 
 
 «nt you cannot but feel acuLly •• '>'«PP<"nt- 
 
 Stayl" aaid Lord Vargrave (who, p,„nged in . 
 

 U' J 
 
 470 
 
 ALICE; OR, THK MYSTERIES. 
 
 II 
 
 gloomy reverie, had -scarcely Hcemed to hear the last few 
 sentences of his rival), — " stay, Alaltravers. Speak not 
 of love to Evelyn! A liorrible forel)oding tells nie that, 
 a few hours hence, you would rather pluck out your 
 tongue by the roots than couple the words of love with 
 the thought of that unfortunate girl! Oh, if I were 
 vindictive, what awful triumph would await me now! 
 What retaliation on your harsh judgment, your cold 
 contempt, your momentary and wretched victory over 
 me ! Heaven is my witness that my only sentiment is 
 that of terror and woe! JVIaltravers, in your earliest 
 youth, did you form connection with one whom they 
 called Alice Darvil ? " 
 
 " Alice ! Merciful Heaven ! what of her ? " 
 " Did you never know that the Christian name of 
 Evelyn's mother is Alice 1 " 
 
 " I never asked — I never knew; but it is a common 
 name," faltered Maltravers. 
 
 "Listen to me," resumed Vargrave; "with Alice 
 
 Darvil you lived in the neighborhood of , did 
 
 you not 1 " 
 
 " Go on ; go on ! " 
 
 " You took the name of Butler; by that name Alice 
 Darvil was afterwards knoAvn in the town in which my 
 uncle resided (there are gaps in the history that I cannot 
 of my own knowledge till up); she taught music; my 
 uncle became enamoured of her, — but he was vain and 
 worldly. She removed into Devonshire, and he mar- 
 ried b r there, under the name of Cameron, by which 
 name he hoped to conceal from the world the lowness 
 of her origin, and the humble calling 3he had followed. 
 — Hold ! do not interrupt me. Alice had one daughter, 
 as was supposed, by a former marriage; that daughter 
 was the offspring of him whose name she bore, 
 
t is a common 
 
 ALICK; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 471 
 
 yes, of the false Butler' Tl.nf ,1 u. 
 
 Cameron'" '^* daughter ia Evelyn 
 
 Ming to the f„ri^'zt t:' 4,"' rhf^ 't 
 
 like the sound o( the death-rattle it\ lu , ™'' 
 dropped the letter, from hi, Ld "' "' ""'' """ 
 
 n.ecili,°; t'';';^: L"" ^"^ "'"'^' »<■ ™-i 
 
 ErlS'fa™ "'' L°f ^'"»"'™' '"^"'g >■- hand upon 
 her mo her™' Y„^ ° 'V"" '°' ^^^'^^'^ sake, -for 
 
 ^l^ I w thalTou™ r th': ;ikf ::r;fM' 
 
 child! You will „ott,„ *?""' "'*' mother and 
 
 iou wiu not consummate your wrnnrr fo ai- 
 Darvil by robbing her of the fruit nf?N7 T^ ''" 
 
 and remorse ? You will nnf f ^ ' °^ Penitence 
 
 own daughter? CnJ '""''''^ ^^"' «h«"^« *« her 
 
 while you do so^ "^°""^^'' ^"^ ^««ter yourself 
 
 -iirr''I^^irn;;afflfct''^^^""^^' ^^^^^ ^ *-"bIe 
 curse. As Thave 'wld ""' '""''^^'"•^^ ^^^"^ « ^^^^e 
 herel" °''''^' '° "^'^^^ ^ "^^^P- Wait me 
 
 (if; 
 
472 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 m, , Misery, 
 
 That gathers force each moment as it rolls, 
 And must, at last, o'erwhelm me. 
 
 LiLLO : Fated Curioiity. 
 
 Maltravers found Evelyn alone. She turned towards 
 him Avith her usual sweet smile of welcome; but the 
 smi e vanished at once as her eyes met his changed and 
 working countenance: cold drops stood upon the rigid 
 and marble brow; the lips writhed as if in bodilv 
 torture; the muscles of the face had fallen, and there 
 was a wildness which appalled her in the fixed and 
 feverish brightness of the eyes. 
 
 "You are ill, Ernest; dear Ernest, you are ill- 
 your look freezes me ! " 
 
 "Nay Evelyn," said Maltravers, recovering himself 
 by one of those efforts of which men who have suffered 
 without sympathy are alone capable, _ " nay, I am better 
 now I have been ill, _ very ill, _ but T am better." 
 
 111! and I not to know of it! " She attempted to 
 take his hand as she spoke. Maltravers recoiled 
 ^ " It is fire! it burns! avaunt! " he cried frantically. 
 U Heaven! spare me, spare me! " 
 Evelyn was now seriously alarmed; she gazed on 
 him with the tenderest compassion. Was this one of 
 those moody and overwlielming paroxysms to whicli it 
 had been whispered abroad that lie was subject ? Strange 
 as It may soem, despite her terror, he was dearer to her 
 in that hour -as she believed, of gloom and darkness 
 
ES. 
 
 err, 
 ; rolls, 
 
 >: Fatal Curioiity. 
 
 turned towards 
 Icome; but the 
 lis changed and 
 upon the rigid 
 3 if in bodily 
 len, and there 
 
 the fixed and 
 
 you are ill: 
 
 rering himself 
 have suffered 
 
 iy,Iani better 
 
 '. am better. " 
 attempted to 
 
 !coilcd. 
 
 d frantically. 
 
 she gazed on 
 s this one of 
 3 to which it 
 set ? Strange 
 dearer to her 
 and darkness 
 
 ALICR; OR, Ti„.: AlVSTEIUES. 473 
 
 ' — than in all the rrlmu r.t i • 
 
 the ua„c,.,,„„..:s- :'„,;■■:, -^-«-..tc...c,„,.., 
 
 Wiiat has happened to vn.> 1 " d' 
 
 ;;... .gain. . niie you 1', l,t,^^.,7''-f "s 
 
 that he has arrived fnr l.;= ' vaigrave/ I kno^y 
 
 «o. Has he u^d /n .77 r"' '"^"^ ^'^^^ '^ «^v 
 ^1- added, falteri ; ;:, A^^^ ,^^^ ^-u, or has." 
 
 offended you. Spe'alc ^rie : 1 ^ ' "L^r;: ''^^ ^^^^'U 
 
 Maltravers turned and I i J ^ 
 serene; save by its e 'f.l I T '''' "°"' '^^'^ «'^d 
 
 "lorning what I say or do Ti.- 1' '"''' "^* *^"« 
 
 -t of me ; it will ^L awt X "t ,"' "' ^^' - *^^"^ 
 
 " Shall I sing to you ^l^wo d T T ^""' '''''''■" 
 See. I have them re.dv T t T^' "^ ^^^* "'g^t? 
 I thought you nShnke' to ^T."^'"' ^^ ^^'^'^''*^- ^ut 
 of simple b'ut deep ieeli!;; '' "'' """' *^^^ ^^^ - ^u" 
 
 distinct. L' there vaf mL ' bT 'T'' ''''' '"^^ -" 
 I-ta chord of memoy wTs tS" ^ ^'"J, '"' ^* 
 words: they were soni Tf V .' ~ ^^ ''^"'^'^^d the 
 
 Alice in the first days of th^r,'' '"' '^^"P^-^ ^or 
 links of the «o Iden el.! '^ ''''"' intercourse. _ 
 
 hin..e ,xfcs;;ar.t^^^ 
 
 "■other learn these „.„rJs J" ~ "'""" '"'' J'""' 
 
 "think you XT WAS vn, '"'''' ^" ' ^^'^"^^^ ^oi°«»~ 
 
 -^ " '^ WAS YOUR FATHER? " 
 
if * 
 
 3' 
 
 474 
 
 ALICK; oi;, Till.; MVSTERIKS. 
 
 My fa(].er!_sho novor speaks of him. I have 
 been early taught to sh.n all allusion to his raemory. 
 My father! ,t is probable. Yes; it may have hoL 
 my father; whom else could she have loved so fondly ? » 
 
 break' it '''' '' ^""° ''^'''''^ ^^'^^" ''^' *^' "^^^ ^-^ 
 
 " I have heard from my mother to-day, Ernest; her 
 letter alarms mo, — I scarce know why." 
 
 " Ay ! — and how — " 
 
 "It is hurried and incoherent, _ almost wild: she 
 «ays she has learned some intelligence that has unsettled 
 and unstrung her mind; she has requested me to inquire 
 li any one I am acquainted with has heard of, or met 
 abroad, some person of the name of Butler. You start' 
 -Have you known one of that name 1 " 
 
 befli'?"^''^ ^'''"' ""'*^^' '''^'' ""^^""^^ *° *^^^ "^'"^ 
 
 " Never! And yet, once I remember — " 
 "What?" 
 
 "That I was reading an account in the papers of the 
 sudden death of some Mr. Butler; and her agitation 
 made a powerful and strange impression upon me, - in 
 fact, she fainted, and seemed almost delirious when she 
 recovered; she would not rest till I had completed the 
 account, and when I came to the particulars of his age. 
 etc. (he was old, I think), she clasped her hands, and 
 wept, but hey seemed tears of joy. The name is so 
 common; whom, of that name, have you known? " 
 
 T \l\'l "*? "'''**''• ^' *^^* y'''''^ mother's letter? 
 is that her handwriting ? " 
 
 "Yes;" and Evelyn gave the letter to Maltravers. 
 He glanced over the characters. He had once or twice 
 seen Lady Vargrave's handwriting before, and had rec- 
 ognized no likeness between that handwriting and such 
 
 hi 
 
■IKS. 
 
 of him. I have 
 1 to his memory. 
 t may have boen 
 oved so fondly ? " 
 was the first to 
 
 day, Ernest; her 
 
 Imost wild; she 
 lat has unsettled 
 od me to inquire 
 heard of, or met 
 ler. You start! 
 
 e to that name 
 
 le papers of the 
 i her agitation 
 upon me, — in 
 rious when she 
 completed the 
 lars of his age, 
 her hands, and 
 'he name is so 
 known ? " 
 other's letter? 
 
 ;o Mai tra vers. 
 
 once or twice 
 
 , and had rec- 
 
 ting and such 
 
 ^^f'lCK; OR, THE MVSTEIUE.S. 
 
 «"ly ^^pecimens of Alice's .r. 77 '^^^ 
 
 2^y years ago; but no 1" "j^^.^'f witnessed so 
 grown " confirmation stron., . . ^'^^'^^ ^' ^ir " had 
 
 «"J blotted scroll; Id wI'T ^^""^ ^^ "^° ^^"rried 
 ^«rds, " Your affection ^"' ""^ ^^'^ted on tho 
 
 -rdied in his voins'""^^ ""■^"^-' ^^^- / " his blood 
 
 ■ft is strauffo' " din i, 
 composure; « strange ilfc j^' ''^^[^^'^^SgUng for self- 
 
 «.th„siasm, a„<l aLTli\ ""' *° """ravers with 
 
 ^h, if you love nin » i • convulsed. 
 
 •Wyfeadvice, Id .'ettirm'''^™" '"""<">'■ 
 "me g„ef tl,at you hide fe^ ^^^ r°°"' ^""'''' » '» " 
 "3 !.nre3\:5i:^;:;"> »Wt.™„, "■^■■"S; and 
 
 ^A.,d,e„di„ata„tlj-,„ra|,i™' 
 " m ■ I T'" "° "'"'= "'ready " 
 
 imie :* fr'V- ""' ^^ "•'" "i'e .„ „e 
 
 "'o'^"» — to relieve me ? T o», ^' — one 
 
 I will write to vou " '° ""^^^^ •' " 
 
 -•■nis evening? » 
 
 ^.he turned, and catl n 'i: Tn;'"' '"''''' ^^ ^-^^^i 
 his arms. Overpowered wit 't^ "^ ^'''' ^'' «P«»«d 
 «te sympathy, she burst in 1 n "^' "'' '"^ ^^^^""n- 
 P"«ed out of the tiitv and "'*' '''''' «"d «ur- 
 
 ^^ and reserve which had hith- 
 

 476 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 erto charactcnzerl her pure and meek attachment to him 
 «I.e fel Ion h,s breast an.l sobbed aloud. Maltrave^^ 
 raised Ins hands, nnd ph,cing them solemnly on he 
 young head. Ins lips muttered as if in prayer He 
 pax.ed.and strained her to his heart; but he shunned 
 
 sought. That embrace was one of agony and not of 
 
 ^u:;!'-' ^^^^- '--' not^th/t'hTXl 
 
 Maltravers re-entered the room in which he had left 
 Lord Vargrave, who still awaited his return 
 
 He walked up to Lumley. and held out his hand. 
 You have saved me from a dreadful crime, -from an 
 everlasting remorse. I thank you'" 
 
 Hardened and frigid as his nature was. Lumley was 
 touched; the movement of Maltravers Lok h m by 
 surprise. "It has been a dreadful duty, Ernest" said 
 he. pressing the hand he held; « but to'comertoo. f om 
 me, —your rival! " 
 
 "Proceed proceed I pray you: explain all this. 
 Yet explanation! What do I want to know ? Evelyn 
 IS my daughter, - Alice's child! For Heaven's sake 
 give me hope: say it is not so. -say that she is Alice' 
 child, but not nnnef Father, father! and they ca i 
 a holy name, — it is a horrible one ' " J' " 
 
 "Compose yourself, my dear friend: recollect what 
 you W escaped! You will recover this shock: time, 
 
 aZ'S^'^TIT-' N^^^'th^n.Ia'ncalml When 
 Alice left me she had no child. I knew not that she 
 bore within her the pledge of our ill-omened and erring 
 love. Verily, the sins of my youth have risen against 
 nie^; and the curse has come home to roost! " 
 " I cannot explain to you all details." 
 
 w 
 
lES. 
 
 tachment to him, 
 oud. Maltravers 
 solemnly on her 
 in prayer. He 
 but he shunned 
 I had so fondly 
 ?ony, and not of 
 that he designed 
 
 hich he had left 
 
 turn. 
 
 d out his hand. 
 
 rime, — from an 
 
 as, Lumley was 
 3 took him by 
 ', Ernest," said 
 come, too, from 
 
 plain all this, 
 mow? Evelyn 
 Heaven's sake, 
 t she is Alice's 
 nd they call it 
 
 recollect what 
 s shock: time, 
 
 icalm! When 
 
 '^ not that she 
 
 tied and erring 
 
 risen against 
 
 „^ ^"^'-'; OK. THE Mvs,,,,,,, ^^^ 
 
 '-e vt^e'^JJ^ \l]^ ^olJ me of this? Whv no. 
 
 ,^-t could i^vi 1 jr'i; -I t -^^^ ^0 -. s :; 
 
 ;a.st a daughter: thou ar not .hi^ T T?"' ' "«' ' '^^''ou 
 "? ^T'^-Jfc- of the bo 3^ J^r^^^^^ Why reserve 
 '*"-"? Fiend that you a ? v 'V ^'' ^""^^^ to 
 ^'«"r to gloat over the L'l '''' ^"^^^^ ""« 
 
 >-• ^ f -, nay, a mo twT Z"''''' ^ ^^^ from 
 ""g^ have saved me and he?%~~' '''''' "^^^^^ «go,-. 
 -^viaitravers is j ? ' 
 
 eyes sparkling wit^ fierce '!5?ri^'^ Vargrave with 
 h;«/orm dilated, the vei^^s <^f S' ^" ^^^^ clinched. 
 
 "•^ntnti^^tr^-t:^ 
 
 " «" « few days bl^'l .^f 4"^' ''' '^^^^^^^in.ly, 
 f once to disclose it to"" w^^ -^ I came hitW 
 J k"ew that my uncle had ^°" ^'^^^n to me? 
 
 "eath him in rank but h "'"'^ ' ?"««» "^uch be 
 
 -f I knew no mo"; exit thT.'""'^'^ ^^^ -""ou 
 %had one daughter "tvln '1 T- '"^^^^^ ^^^^ 
 suddenly acquainted me ^yitlZ ^. ''" "^ "'^"^ents 
 pretty faithfully repeat dwhatheTV """^ ^^^^^-^ 
 
 brewer at C . ^d from M: O '"'"'^ ^''"^ ^^e 
 
 «ame to the tacit confirmaTiof ^f ut""' ^"* ^h«« he 
 eeived from Mrs. Las™ he ' ^^' ^"^^^^^'^^^^^ re- 
 g-atly distorted the aceoun 'VlTSSevated ',,, 
 cludedLumley, "of thp) . '^"'^g^' then," con- 
 
 f ou had decla^;d 1 attacrZt": Vt^^ ' ^^^^^ ^^^t 
 ^vas returned. Hj ,, T2TVl^r^y^>^nd that it 
 
 Wthe .est. Areyou'saSL'?""^^^^' ^^^^^^ ^ou 
 
 ^will go to Alice? I will 1 ^ 
 -yet how can I meet her 11'™^'''" ^'' °^" '^Ps 
 have taken from thee thy L Xn "rT '^^ *« ^''' 'I 
 child's heart ' ? " ^ ^'* ^°P«' - ^ have broken thy 
 
5* * 
 
 
 hi 
 
 rrr- 
 
 478 
 
 ALICE; UK, THK MVSTKKIES. 
 
 " Forgive me; but I should confess to you that, from 
 all I can learn from Mrs. Leslie, Lady Vargrave has but 
 one prayer, one hope in life, — that she may never again 
 meet with her betrayer. You may, indeed, in her own 
 letter, perceive how much she is terrified by the thought 
 of your discovering her. She has, at length, recovered 
 peace of mind and tranquillity of conscience. She 
 shrinks with dread from the prospect of ever again en- 
 countering one once so dear, now associated in her mind 
 with recollections of guilt and sorrow. More than this, 
 she is sensitively alive to the fear of shame, the dread 
 of detection. If ever her daughter were to know her 
 sin, it would be to her as a death-blow. Yet in her 
 nervous state of health, her ever-quick and uncontroll- 
 able feelings, if you were to meet her she would disguise 
 nothing, conceal nothing. The veil would be torn aside : 
 the menials in her own house would tell the tale, and 
 curiosity circulate, and scandal blacken, the story of her 
 early errors. No, Mai tra vers; at least wait awhile 
 before you see her, — wait till her mind can be prepared 
 for such an interview, till precautions can be taken, till 
 you yourself are in a calmer state of mind." 
 
 Maltravers fixed his piercing eyes on Lumley while 
 he thus spoke, and listened in deep attention. 
 
 " It matters not," said he, after a long pause, " whether 
 these be your real reasons for wishing to defer or pre- 
 vent a meeting between Alice and myself. The afflic- 
 tion that has come upon me bursts with too clear and 
 scorching a blaze of light for me to see any chance of 
 escape or mitigation. Even if Evelyn were the daugh- 
 ter of Alice by another, she would be forever separated 
 from me. The mother and the cnildl there is a kind of 
 incest even in that thought. But such an alleviation of 
 my anguish is forbidden to my reason. No, poor Alice I 
 
 U ■; 
 
ALICK; ok, THK MYsTKHiliS. 479 
 
 r will not disturb the reDo:gft tl.n,, 1 * 
 Thou *„1, „..v„ |,av„ Zi 'Jl T'; ■" '""• 
 
 over! the worM never shall firwl . ''^ 
 
 isleftfor.ehutthecL:iu„al;;jT- "^^^^^^ 
 
 ingly'^" a mur;h?""\" ^'"' ^^^'^ Vargrave.sooth- 
 Yrfnr on, f ' '"'^ ^^" ''^" ^<^^«ver this blow 
 
 i^our control over passion has, oven in vont I, in T 
 with achairation and surprise • am In ' 1 ^''"^ """ 
 
 and with such incent v s o'sel „ 7' "^ '^'^^'"^'^ ^--^r^. 
 will come sooner tl^ar;ou tl ink F^' '/"'■; '"""^'^ 
 ^u.,sheh.notl.nof;::^^ 
 alter all, is that caused bv sonip n.v«t,-n 1 * • 
 
 lather. Happy years are yet in store for you " 
 
 his Whole .J^2::^^^^^ 
 
 heeded down his cheeks, he seemed' the very p tu., "f 
 he broken-hearted man, whom fate never Jg in ouM 
 raise from despair He wlm hnri * 
 himself in nnVlo , ^ ^"^ ^'^^''^ «o cased 
 
 iiimse.f in pride; on whose very front was engraved the 
 
 victory over passion and misfortune; whose stenhtl 
 trod he .arth in the royalty of the conq eror '_ the 
 veriest slave that crawls bore not a spirit ml Sumbl d 
 fallen, or subdued. He who had looked with Wht; 
 
 fWltie 'Z^'''''' f ^heir human follies and partial 
 L ilties,--./ie, even he, the Pharisee of Genius had 
 but escaped by a chance, and by the hand of t .emln he 
 suspected and despised, from a crime at whi Inalre 
 herself recoils; which all law. social and di ne j^" 
 mati,es as inexpiable; which the sternest imag lation 
 of the very heathen had invented as the gloomieft at- 
 
' 1 
 
 
 ^'J.1.*L 
 
 m 
 
 AUVF. ; OR, TllK MYrfTKKlMS. 
 
 tropho Unit can licfull Mio wisdom and Um |)ri(lo of mor- 
 tals. Hut onn step fiirtluT, aiid tlio fal»uluu8 (EdipUH 
 had not buou nu)i(! accursc-d! 
 
 Such tlioughts i\H these, unformed, confused, Imt 
 strong enough to how liim to the dust, passed througli 
 the niiml of this wretched man. Ho had l)Oon familiar 
 with griof; ho had been tluU to enjoyment; sad and 
 hitter memories had consumed his manhood; hut prido 
 had heen loft him still, and he had dared in his secret 
 heart to say, "I can defy fate!" Now tho holt had 
 fallen: pride was shattered into fragments; self-ahase- 
 niout was his companion; shame sat upon his prostrate 
 soul. Tho future had no hope loft in store. Nothing 
 was left for him hut to die. 
 
 Lord Vargrave gazed at liiui in real pain, in sincere 
 compassion; for his nature, wily, decoitfid, perfidious 
 though it was, had cruelty only so far as was necessary 
 to the unrelenting execution of his schemes. No pity 
 could swerve him from a purpose; but he had enough 
 of the man within him to feel pity not the less, even for 
 his own victim. At length Maltravers lifted his head, 
 and waved his hand gently to Lord Vargrave. 
 
 "All is now explained," said he, in a feeble voice; 
 " our interview is over. I must be alone ; I have yet 
 to collect my reason, to commune calmly and deliber- 
 ately with myself. I have to write to her, to iiivrw, 
 to lie, — I, who believed I coidd never, never utt* '•, <>veD 
 to an enemy, what was false! And I must noo £iufL(n 
 the blow to her. I must not utter a word of love: 
 love, it is incest! I must endeavor brutally to crush 
 out the very affection I created! She must hate me! 
 'r irnch her to hate me! Blacken my name, traduce 
 uk tivf^ — let her believe them levity or perfidy. 
 
 it,'; 
 
 •'•vhv Vj>i. will. So will she forget me the sooner; so 
 
 itei 
 
 
pi'ido of tnor- 
 uluiiM (KdiiuiH 
 
 confused, 1)Ut 
 mssod tlii'oii^li 
 1)0011 fiimiliiir 
 lent; sad and 
 loil; but prido 
 d in liis spcrct 
 ' tho bolt had 
 its; solf-almae- 
 I his prostrate 
 ore. Nothing 
 
 vin, in sincere 
 ful, perfidious 
 was necessary 
 aes. No pity 
 tie had enough 
 i less, even for 
 if ted his head, 
 ive. 
 
 1 feeble voice ; 
 ae ; I have yet 
 Y and deliber- 
 ler, to iii\om, 
 ver utt' I', even 
 ust no I duf i,i n 
 ivord of love : 
 [tally to crush 
 nust hate me I 
 name, traduce 
 ity or perfidy, 
 the sooner; so 
 
 AUCE; 0|{, TIIK MYSTKRIES. 481 
 
 Will Hhn the easier In^ar the sorrow which the father 
 
 U Jloaven tho sin was n.ino! hvi. my punishment 
 bo u sacrifice that thou wilt accept for }L| » 
 
 Lord VarKravo attempt,,,! ^^ain to console; but this 
 tune the words died upon his lips. His arts faiJl hm 
 MaKravers tt.niod nnpatiently away and pointed to tho 
 
 " I ^^'11 «^« you again," said he, " before I quit Paris- 
 leave your address below." 
 
 Vargrave was not. perhaps, unwilling to terminate a 
 Bcenn so painfu ; he muttered a few inherent words 
 and abruptly withdrew. Ho heard tho door locked Z' 
 
 what aTomui: '^^^^^^'- ^'''''' ^^^^^--« - ^^-^ 
 
 •1 
 

 ff " t 
 
 482 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 SMmm,mis <i 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 %!l 
 
 11 ; 
 
 Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing 
 To what I shall unfold. 
 
 Hamlet. 
 
 LETTER FROM ERNEST MALTRAVER8 TO EVELYN CAMERON. 
 
 Evelyn I — All that you have read of faithlessness and 
 perfidy will seem tame to you when compared with that con- 
 duct which you are doomed to meet from me. We must part, 
 and forever. We have seen each, other for the last time. It 
 is bootless even to ask the cause. Believe that I am fickle, 
 false, heartless, — that a whim has changed me, — if you will. 
 My resolve is unalterable. We meet no more, even as friends. 
 I do not ask you either to forgive or to remember me. Look 
 on me as one wholly unworthy even of resentment. Do not 
 think that I write this in madness, or in fever, or excitement. 
 Judge me not by my seeming 'Uness this morning. I invent 
 no excuse, no extenuation, for my broken faith and perjured 
 vows. Calmly, coldly, and deliberately I write ; and thus 
 writing, I renounce your love. 
 
 This language is wanton cruelty ; it is fiendish insult, — is 
 it not, Evelyn ? Am I not a villain ? Are you not grateful 
 for your escape ? Do you not look on the past with a shudder 
 at the precipice on which you stood ? 
 
 I have done with this subject; I turn to another. We are 
 parted, Evelyn, and forever. Do not fancy, — I repeat, do 
 not fancy that there is any error, any strange infatuation, on 
 my mind; that there is any possibility that the .sentence can 
 be annulled. It were almost easier to call the dead from the 
 grave than bring us again together, as we were and as we 
 hoped to be. Now that you are convinced of that truth, learn, 
 as soon as you have recovered the first shock of knowing how 
 
ring 
 
 Hamlet. 
 
 YN CAMERON. 
 
 ithlessness and 
 with that, con- 
 We must part, 
 ; last time. It 
 at I am fickle, 
 , — if you will. 
 3ven as friends, 
 ber me. Look 
 inent. Do not 
 or excitement, 
 ling. I invent 
 I and perjured 
 ite ; and thus 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 433 
 
 much wickedness there is on earth I 
 future for happier and ,nnl/\?,'.~ ''•'*'■" ^" t"''" to the 
 ^-ve ^<m.J'Z^t y\TT'' '''' *^'- ^h- you conld 
 «'-t in.pressions ,,, lively 'f! '''^' ^'""^' •" *" y«»th our 
 
 ^:-^'- at having fl^led'^ ^ reHl'' T T," ''''''- 
 '■'"■'-^r linage will replace niiL tk . ^""ther and a 
 
 l"-.y for. Assocy,,asliaTZ'f. /' '' ''^'' ^ '^'^^^'^ ^''^ 
 
 "-''^^-'^ '0 a-^^.r, 7 J; .:;;f:; r\i^' «';f-. ^'^^^ .- «r« 
 
 iroi. <A. Srart^; of Cain ' wlL t ' '"" '-^'"-■^ /''""^ '"^ 
 
 probably renew his suit. Two, dT T' '^'''^ ""^^^^^^^ -" 
 your own years —one v.].^ ^'''' y°" married one of 
 
 would chas'e ^:;, err;tneS;"'^^T '^"^^^' °- -^° 
 forsakes you. But perhans ^^ ''• °^'^' ''''''^ ^^° "o^ 
 character, ~perhar«te,?. ''"'^'^'" Lord Vargrave's 
 
 a who ;et urfrtte eTs^rt'°'^°"*^^»i^-^^^^^ 
 
 -y both Win Ld L:^^;: al:r '"^" ''' '-''^^^ '^ 
 
 Evelyn, farewell ! God wh . , ''"°"- , 
 Iamb, will watch over you ! '''''^''''^' ^^"^ to the shorn 
 
 Ernest Maltravers. 
 
 sh insult, — is 
 )u not grateful 
 with a shudder 
 
 )ther. We are 
 — I repeat, do 
 infatuation, on 
 e .sentence can 
 dead from the 
 ere and as we 
 at truth, learn, 
 knowing how 
 
1 
 
 484 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 !i i 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Our acts our angels are, or good or ill, 
 The fatal shadows that walk by us still. 
 
 John Flbtcheb. 
 
 The next morning came ; the carriage was at the door 
 of Maltravers, to bear him away he cared not whither. 
 Where could he fly from memory? He had just de- 
 spatched the letter to Evelyn, — a letter studiously 
 written for the object of destroying all the afifection to 
 which he had so fondly looked as the last charm of life. 
 He was now only waiting for Vargrave, to whom he 
 had sent, and who hastened to obey the summons. 
 
 When Lumley arrived, he was shocked at the altera- 
 tion which a single night had effected in the appearance 
 of ]\laltravers ; but he was surprised and relieved to 
 find him calm and self-possessed. 
 
 "Vargrave," said Maltravers, "whatever our past 
 coldness, henceforth I owe to you an eternal gratitude; 
 and henceforth this awful secret makes between us an 
 indissoluble bond. If I have understood you rightly, 
 neither Alice nor other living being than yourself knows 
 that in me, Ernest ilaltravers, stands the guilty object 
 of Alice's first love. Let that secret still be kept; re- 
 lieve 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. 
 
11, 
 
 till. 
 
 John Fletcher. 
 
 as at the door 
 1 not whither. 
 3 had just de- 
 ter studiously 
 he affection to 
 charm of life. 
 , to whom he 
 immons. 
 I at the altera- 
 the appearance 
 d relieved to 
 
 iver our past 
 •nal gratitude; 
 between us an 
 
 I you rightly, 
 ,'ourself knows 
 
 guilty object 
 
 II be kept; re- 
 n of learning 
 i: he will not 
 explanation to 
 V for Evelyn." 
 e of the letter 
 itfully. 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 495 
 
 eff:cf "Tor;:;::" "^u^^^^, '^\ «- ">= 
 
 Ma.e .he imagination anV'et!.'e '' "1^ ° i? 
 
 Evelyn still continue to love you- if th«f iZ 
 
 Alice (though in innocence and honor^ ? Vn„r f ^ 
 age the difference of rank, foi.badr;:!i im on ter 
 father, discovering your clandestine corresponden e sud 
 denly removed her from the country, and des rov^dl 
 clew for your inquiries. You lost sight of each other 
 each was taught to believe the other dead 1 i" ' 
 compelled by her father to marry V Lectin Z 
 after his death her povertv ind h.r l ,'^''' ^'^'^ 
 ^i.,-u • J J , i'^vt-it^y and her love for her only 
 
 child induced her to accept my uncle. You have now 
 learned all : have learned that Evelyn is the daughte ol 
 y r first love, --the daughter of one wiio adoL you 
 still, and whose hfe your remembrance has for so many 
 years embittered. Evelyn herself will at once conTZ 
 hend all the scruples of a delicate n.ind; Evelyn hers f 
 vil recoil from the tliought of making the child tt 
 rival to the mother. She will understand why you have 
 flown rom her; she will sympathize witli your str g- 
 gles; she will recall the constant melancholy of Alice • 
 
 and eiraco all grief; generosity and duty alike will „r„ 
 her to conquer her own affection. And hereafter. whTn 
 
 i> V 
 

 486 
 
 ALICE ; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 
 time has restored you both, father and cliild may meet 
 with such sentiments as father and child may own." 
 
 Maltravers was silent for some minutes ; at length he 
 said abruptly, " And you really loved her, Vargrave? 
 You love her still; your dearest care must be her 
 welfare 1 " 
 "It is; indeed it is!" 
 
 " Then I must trust to your discretion ; I can have 
 no other confidant; I myself am not fit to judge. My 
 mind is darkened; you may be right, — I think so." 
 
 "One word more, — she may discredit my tale, if 
 unsupported. Will you write one line tu me to say that 
 I am authorized to reveal the secret, and that it is 
 known only to me? I will not use it unless I should 
 think it absolutely required. " 
 
 Hastily and mechanically Maltravers wrote a few 
 words to the effect of what Lumley had suggested. " I 
 will inform you," he said to Vargrave as he gave him 
 the paper, " of whatever spot may become ray asylum, 
 and you can communicate to me all that I dread and long 
 to hear; but let no man know the refuge of despair! " 
 
 There was positively a tear in Vargrave's cold eye,— 
 the only tear that had glistened there for many years ; 
 he paused irresolute, then advanced, again halted, mut- 
 tered to himself, and turned aside. 
 
 "As for the world," Lumley resumed, after a pause, 
 "your engagement has been public, — some public 
 account of its breach must be invented. You have 
 always been considered a proud man ; we will say that it 
 was low birth on the side of both mother and father (tlie 
 last only just discovered) that broke off the alliance! " 
 
 Vargrave was talking to the deaf: what cared Mal- 
 travers for the world? He hastened from the room, 
 threw himself into his carriage, and Vargrave was left 
 to plot, to hope, and to aspire. 
 
IS. 
 
 cliild may meet 
 may own." 
 3; at length he 
 lier, Vargrave? 
 must be her 
 
 nj I can have 
 to judge. My 
 think so." 
 it my tale, if 
 I me to say that 
 ,nd that it is 
 mless I should 
 
 wrote a few 
 iuggested. " I 
 3 he gave him 
 le my asylum, 
 .Iread and long 
 )f despair! " 
 j's cold eye, — 
 T many years; 
 1 halted, mut- 
 
 after a pause, 
 - some public 
 i. You have 
 rill say that it 
 nd father (the 
 5 alliance ! " 
 at cared Mal- 
 om the room, 
 grave was left 
 
 BOOK X. 
 
 OSAov'Ovc^^o..- Homer: lUad. lib. ii. 1. 
 A dream I 
 
 6. 
 
,1 s 
 
 m 
 
 
BOOK X. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Qualis ubi in lucem coluber 
 
 Mala gramiiia pastua.l 
 
 Pars minima est ipsa puella sui.a _ Ovid.^'"*"^ 
 
 in foreseeing that after fh. « T ^' ^^ "^^^ ^'S^t 
 the letter of^Maltltt L';:Vorrr ^'^"^^^^ ^'^ 
 crushed beneath her ce^taintv nf7 J ^^ resentment 
 credulity at his self.: ^s a d\:!""^"; ^^^ -" 
 tion that some reverse some S ? l '"'''* ''^^^'c* 
 «he should-share Ja^ the 'r "'' ^'^ ^^'-^^ "^^^illing 
 
 flight. Vargrave'^reorvr^ln f '^^^^^" ^"^ 
 Evelyn the tale he had suggeld o ZZ7"'''''^ '' 
 reminded her of the h.).,- , ^altravers. He 
 
 ^vHch was ,0 vLVfe^i^S "-;-•. S""^*- "' 
 
 secret oJl ",1 wr™"™ '° '''' """^ '"'=• " T^e 
 
 p.^.f,:.""" " ■"* «"■■•• "'» %>.'. having fed „. p„^<,.„ 
 'The girl is the least pM of him^U. 
 
Ij I 
 
 490 
 
 ALICE ; OR, TIIK MYSTKRIES. 
 
 mi 
 ■>■• 
 
 above her in rank, who (his hoad hcing full of German 
 romance) was then roaming about the country on pedes- 
 trian and adventurous excursions, under the assumed 
 name of Butler. By him she was most ardently be- 
 loved in return. Her father, perhaps, suspected the 
 rank of her lover, and was fearful of her honor being 
 compromised. He was a strange man, that father! and 
 I know not his real character and motives; but he sud- 
 denly witlidrew his daughter from the suit and search of 
 her lover: they saw each other no more; her lover 
 mourned her as one dead. In process of time your 
 mother was constrained by her father to marry Mr. 
 
 Cameron, and was left a widow with an only child, 
 
 yourself. She was poor, — very poor! and her love and 
 anxiety for you at last induced her to listen to the 
 addresses of my late uncle; for your sake she married 
 again, — again death dissolved the tie! But still, un- 
 ceasir;jly and faithfully, she recalled that first love, the 
 memory of which darkened and embittered all her life ; 
 and still she lived upon the hope to meet with tlie 
 lost again. At last, and most recently, it was my fate 
 to discover that the object of this unconquerable affection 
 lived, — was still free in hand if not in heart: you be- 
 hold the lover of your mother in Ernest Maltravers. It 
 devolved on me (a" 'nvi'l."ous, a reluctant duty) to in- 
 form Maltravers of the identity of Lady Vargrave with 
 the Alice of his boyish passion; to prove to him her 
 suffering, patient, unsubdued affection; to convince him 
 that the sole hope left to her in life was that of one day 
 or other beholding him once again. You know Mal- 
 travers, — his high-wrought, sensitive, noble character: 
 he recoiled in terror from the thought of making his 
 love to the daughter the last and bitterest affliction to 
 the mother he had so loved; knowing, too. how com- 
 
IS. 
 
 full of German 
 mntry on pcdes- 
 rr the assiimod 
 )st aniontly be- 
 , suspected the 
 ler honor being 
 hat father! and 
 roa; but he sud- 
 lit and search of 
 ore ; her lover 
 3 of time your 
 
 to marry Mr. 
 ) only child, — 
 nd her love and 
 listen to the 
 ke she married 
 
 But still, un- 
 it first love, the 
 red all her life ; 
 meet with the 
 it was my fate 
 lerable affection 
 heart: you be- 
 Maltravers. It 
 nt duty) to in- 
 ' Vargrave with 
 )ve to him her 
 io convince him 
 that of one day 
 'ou know Mal- 
 loble character: 
 of making his 
 :est affliction to 
 too. how com- 
 
 ALICK; OK, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 491 
 
 i;S:„!:i,;it;'iJ.;:,' ,:;;"•-■' --«f-,,,a,„,. 
 
 Uiat would to v„'„,; ,''■"" "'"' »«lf-'"l'roacl, 
 
 you „a. toe,: r:;:,^:'j;:,: ::t'f -» ., „, 
 
 •Ircams tlmt your fil.l 1,.™ i , f '"'"^ ''°1'"» »"'' 
 ''«»pain..g, Z u to ^'"' ''r""^"'- 'J'"""'"J. 
 this ill-o„ <.,,« , , '""""'"■ ''» ''»» W fr-n 
 
 '-u,,au„':;:r rc: ^r: oto/;"';i''" '■" -T'-*' 
 
 of the Alice „f his v,„„l, :, 7- * "'° "o"' "'" lin< 
 he can w/yrrelrl 1 . ""°"""". »^ »o,m ,,» 
 hasten to yoIrTot;;, "/'''','''"? "'"^ '»'"«'■'■ «" 
 
 it depends to Te,torTm\7 """• "'"' ^ou alone, 
 
 alone'it depe„r o \lt Z'!'" ■"■° "°'"' "" "■'' 
 mother who' so dearly We. yo"""'""* '""' °' *« 
 
 this tai;;Z;: °l;' J „^--y. ^^vdyn listened to 
 
 »obs, often inte ruXr She < r""'"'""""'"' ''" 
 
 to her „otl,er, to M laver T" ,»""" /-'""'ly 
 oould relinquish his suit Tw cheerfZ ' "^ *" 
 rejo.ee in that desertion wl id, L uX 1 ^ ■''""°""' *" 
 mother she had so lovedl " happmes, to the 
 
 " Nay," said Vargrave ■ " voup .„^t,, 
 
 till the intelligence e«, to \ T ^"^ """ ""' '"'•o"'. 
 
 softened by his nrnte-t • ^"""""^ ''y ^'^ ''f, and 
 
 the myster'io , Ct 'w ?""""" »"-«-. that 
 
 travers whose vows halt ^°°""'" '" "'"' *''''■ 
 
 own child. Would n^t l '° '"'"'^ °«''«"' '° '>»■• 
 
 Pride, and dest„;^t hone rt '"'°"T" "'-* "" 
 
 -nt to the sacrL S iMLT' '''' ""^ "°''- 
 
 rrof^;ii-^"-™--^^ 
 
 wi^-mustyor;:i.:i:-rtL'':ZnT,;:,ts 
 
If 
 
 hi 
 
 U i 
 
 m 
 
 h 
 
 m 
 
 
 492 
 
 ALICK; OR, TIIK MYSTKItlKS. 
 
 of Maltravors; not till then ciui she know where that 
 houiago has hivn rccuntly rcMulcred; not till then can 
 Miiltravers feel jiLstilied in tiio atonement he nioditaleH. 
 He is willing to wacriHco himself; he tremhles at the 
 thought of .sucrilicing you. Siiy nothing to your mother 
 till, from her own lips, she tells you that she has learned 
 all." 
 
 Could Evelyn hesitate? Could Evelyn douht? To 
 allay the fears, to fulfil the prayers, of the man wliose 
 conduct appeared so generous; to restore him to peace 
 and the world; above all, to pluck from the heart of 
 that beloved and gentle mother the rankling dart; to 
 shed happiness over her fate; to reunite her with the 
 loved and lost, — what sacrifice too great foo this ? 
 
 Ah, why was Legard absent? Why did sj<e believe 
 him capricious, light, and false? Why had she slmt 
 her softest thoughts from her soul ? I-5ut he — the true 
 lover — was afar, and his true love unknown; and Var- 
 grave, the watchful serpent, was at hand. 
 
 In a fatal hour, and in the transport of that enthusiasm 
 which inspires alike our more rash and our more sub- 
 lime deeds, which makes us alike dupes and martyrs, — 
 the enthusiasm that tramples upon self, that forfeits all 
 things to a high-wrought zeal for others, — Evelyn con- 
 sented to become the wife of Vargrave. Nor was she at 
 first sensible of the sacrifice, — sensible of anything but 
 the glow of a noble spirit and an approving conscience. 
 Yes, thus, and thus alone, did she obey both duties: 
 that, which she had wellnigh abandoned, to her dead 
 benefactor, and that to the living mother. Afterwards 
 came a dread reaction; and then, at last, that passive 
 and sleep-like resignation which is despair under a 
 milder name. Yes; such a lot had been predestined 
 from the first. lu vain had she sought to fly it: 
 
KS. 
 
 now whore tliat 
 lit till tlieii can 
 lit lu; iiieJitiitcs. 
 trembles at the 
 5 to your mother 
 she has learned 
 
 lyn doubt? To 
 the man wliose 
 :e him to peaco 
 m the heart of 
 nkling dart; to 
 ;e her witli the 
 at foi- this? 
 Llid p)'e believe 
 ' had she shut 
 t lie — the true 
 lown ; and Var- 
 
 that enthusiasm 
 our more sub- 
 and martyrs, — 
 ;hat forfeits all 
 — Evelyn con- 
 Nor -was she at 
 )f anything but 
 ing conscience. 
 y both duties: 
 d, to her dead 
 r. Afterwards 
 t, that passive 
 spair under a 
 m predestined 
 ght to fly it: 
 
 ALICE; OR, THR MYSTERIES. 493 
 
 fate^had overtaken her. and .she must submit to the 
 
 ^^l^tr^SCZ^ ''\ ^"^"^--e of the 
 Vargrave promised m ^"'^^'''""^^ *« '^^travors. 
 was too acuta not ^ t.ow hT "'' '' '''''' "• "« 
 I'^volyn's motives wouldT ' '" '' '"'^^^"^ ^ «tep, 
 
 indelLte and : g^^ ^""S"' ""'' ^"" ^^^ 
 fcravers should loan nn ' tu"" '^''"''^"•'' *''«<^ ^al- 
 
 leave Evelyn, eve or f J ^"'^''^- ^^'''^'^ ^^ 
 
 England to'aL " :t rv ^ ^ J ^'^ ^H '''''' ''' ^" 
 mained at Paris, and hurried Tn a 11 "'''^''''~^' ^^■ 
 rations. He sent to Do "ho 0! •"^'"■'^'^ P^''^^" 
 the deeds necessary for thrt;. ^ T" '" P*^^'^""' ''^^^ 
 purchase of Lisle Com i"^ "^ "'' "^'^"'^^ ^^^ '^^ 
 diately compl , ^'ti'o mt "" ""^ '' ""' '"-- 
 Mr. Bouce's^bankUll't Z;!^^^: '^'^^ ^" 
 operations; and in a few w 1 completed their 
 
 tained the allotte lal V.r \"'''" ^''^^^ '^^^ at- 
 lord alike oi ^ ^^L^^^TZ'^::^ l^^ T 'T''' 
 lands of the crushed Maltrave jl •'^'^^^'^'-^^^ 
 
 stating to Evelyn who ^vJT ^ refrained from 
 
 estatel becomrhe:^: rfotsalTtl ''T'^' '' '- 
 would form, -and indenrl ' «bj«ctions she 
 
 talk, of such matter; Sf ""t "^^^^ '' '^"< ^° 
 
 ;-l been granted: lat^he . tit ll' "'1' '''' '' 
 l>er solitude till the M.] Z c, * ""molested to 
 
 room, condemned not to IfiT' . ^^'""^ "^ ^" ^'' ^°"^ly 
 ^or sympathy evenTh^ totht - t^f^' - ^" r' 
 vain endeavored to keep un T Ti! . ^""' ^irl in 
 
!l 
 
 494 
 
 ALICE; nn, TIfK MYSTKIUES. 
 
 Lady Doltiinorn, nn.nzo<1 at wlint hnd mnm\ -ut th« 
 fl.ght of Maltravors; .,.o success of L„\n,.; L„1S 
 to account f.,r it, to oxtort explanation fron Vargravo 
 or fron. Evelyn, was distracte.l by the foar of fom 
 vllanous deceit which she could not fathom; to es- 
 
 ^.'-vy "itex. \argrave, suspicious, an.l fearful of trust- 
 ing to what she might say in her nervous and excite.l 
 teniper, if removed from his watchful eye, deemed him- 
 self compelled to hover round her. His manner, his 
 conduct, were most guarded; but Caroline herself jeal- 
 ous irritated, unsettled, evinced at times a right' Loth 
 to familiarity and anger, which drew upon her and 
 himself the sly vigilance of slander. Meanwhile Lord 
 Doltimore, though too cold and proud openly to notice 
 what passed around him, seemed disturbed and anxious 
 His manner to Vargrave was distant; be shunned all 
 tete-.-fetes' with his wife. Little, however, of this did 
 Lumley heexl; a few weeks more, and all would bo 
 well and safe. Vargrave did not publish his engage- 
 ment with Evelyn: he sought carefully to conceal it till 
 the very day was near at hand; but it was whispered 
 abroad. Some laughed; some believed. Evelyn herself 
 was seen nowhere De Montaigne had, at first, been 
 "u lignantly incredulous at the report that Maltravers 
 had broken off a connection he had so desired, from a 
 motive so weak and unworthy as that of mere family 
 pride A letter from Maltravers, who confided to him 
 and \argrave alone the secret of his retreat, reluctantly 
 convinced him that the wise are but pompous fools 
 He was angry and disgusted; and still more so. when 
 \alerie and Teresa (for female friends stand by us right 
 or wrong hinted at excuses, or surmised that other 
 causes lurked behind the one alleged. But his thoughts 
 
AMCK; OR, THE MySTKfaKs. 
 
 — 495 
 
 «n alarming my.stfry '^^ remained 
 
 Jeigh. Understanainu f om T . i "'"' ^"'^ ^^"'- 
 
 p-baidy loft hi. ;;s-,^i rS"?'"'"^':^^^^''^'' 
 
 extremely probable tb.f fi Z^'''''^"'. ^'^ imagined it 
 
 from him to that oiJ^f "^"'^'^ '' forward a letter 
 
 Vargrave made some pypmq,. <• i i. , 
 could be more indoli te tl ' T ^'^^ "^'-^^^ '^^"'""g 
 warded through hi.,. I "" ^^'Hcation, for 
 
 -re, who haS accide t ;'ll:dte\f"T ^- ^'"'^ ^^^"■ 
 that ho knew the address nf Tu ^^^"^'^'C^o confess 
 letter to the Frenchlrnn^^^'^^^^ '- 
 
 contents, begged iStLltT'^Se "rf ''"^^ ''' 
 so. Xow ff ia ,r«. 1 , ■'^^ MontaiL'uo did 
 
 -..pie Iet.er„as i LCirr"' "' '''°- '"" ''»' 
 «.« =te„ge history "oTiC,; " ""' "™'"''™ '" 
 
496 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MV.STEIilES. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Quid frustra simulacra fugacia captas ? — 
 Quod petis est nusquam.i 
 
 Ovid : Met, iii. 432, 
 
 To no clime dedicated to the indulgence of majestic 
 griefs, or to the soft melancholy of regret, -not to thy 
 glacters or thy dark-blue lakes, beautiful Switzerland^ 
 mother of many exiles! not to thy fairer earth, and 
 gentler heaven, sweet Italy! -fled the agonized Mal- 
 travers. Once in his wanderings, he had chanced to 
 pass by a landscape so steeped in sullen and desolate 
 gloom that It had made a powerful and nnefl-aced im- 
 pression upon his mind; it was amidst those swamps 
 and morasses that formerly surrounded the castle of Gil 
 de Retz, the ambitious lord, the dreaded necromancer, 
 who perished at the stake, after a career of such powe^ 
 and splendor as seemed almost to justify the dark belief 
 in his preternatural agencies. ^ 
 
 Here, in a lonely and wretched inn, remote from 
 other habitations, Maltravers fixed himself. In gentler 
 griefs, there is a sort of luxury in bodily discomfort; in 
 his inexorable and unmitigated anguish, bodily discom- 
 fort was not felt. There is a kind of magnetism in ex- 
 treme woe, by which the body itself seems laid asleep, 
 and knows no distinction between the bed of Damien 
 
 yol rk'i.^no^X're.'' '"" "'^" '^ '"""« ^'^^'"^^ ' ''^^' ^^'^^ 
 ' See for a description of this scenery, and the fate of De Retz 
 
 ill 
 
ES. 
 
 s? — 
 
 >viD : Met. iii. 432. 
 
 ice of majestic 
 it, — not to thy 
 111 Switzerland, 
 lirer earth, and 
 
 agonized Mal- 
 had chanced to 
 a and desolate 
 i uneffaced im- 
 
 those swamps 
 tie castle of Gil 
 d necromancer, 
 of such power 
 ihe dark belief 
 
 remote from 
 If. In gentler 
 discomfort; in 
 bodily discom- 
 jnetism in ex- 
 is laid asleep, 
 3d of Damien 
 
 '8 ? That which 
 
 fate of De Retz, 
 Ritchie, called, 
 
 A^^ICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 49; 
 
 and the rose-couch of the Sybarite H„ w. , • 
 and servants at a nost-hn,,; "'^* '^"^ ^"'■''^K" 
 
 «ame to this drelry abod V"'"' ""1''^ ''''''^'' «« 
 reason, and that lo^tT. 71 '"'^ '" "^'^* ^'"^'T 
 
 -"1 found someth g t^^:::^'' r'^. ''^ ^"--' 
 
 ";>t mock him, in the W^o '1 ' T" ''>" '''"' ''■'' 
 -^.'iture. Vain would it be n I , '^f "' '"^^ •^'•^""^1 
 -what he then endu 1 Sufi" ^ II'''^' ^" ""^" ^«^*' 
 the diviner strength of m.nwr / ",'' *''™"^''^ ^^"' 
 and that daily, nUtlv h f , , ""* '"'^^^'^ ^•'"■^J"^-' : 
 Comforter tolj^ L^^r^. H, rr' ^V^'^ ^^^^ 
 love. No man strugc^los so ZT ^ °'""'* "" ^""'^y 
 <lid. utterly in vain -for irusT^'^' " "'"r;"^' '^'^ ^« 
 -hit, there is a spiHt tha;\,;::; f-.f ^^^^^^^^^^ '^' ^^^^ 
 " bleeding conqueror ..„ * . ' ~~ * crowned 
 
 One day, af^r a Vlonl?:."^' ^ '^« '^-°-• 
 whose letters all breathed . ?'' ^'"'"^ "^^'^rave, 
 
 Evelyn's progressivelc ^T^f ' '"' ^-^'^"^^"^ '" 
 messenger returned from the L ! .'^"" ''"'^ ^'"P"' his 
 the hand of De Mon : gn ' ^'n 7" T ' ^^"^^ ^ 
 envelope (De Montai™5« m '^""*''»»eJ. in a blank 
 he had lost in t e Lm of •"". ''^1 ''"^ ^'°^^ '»-h 
 cation of Lord Bo^Z^' lrr!:7l\Z' """""^■ 
 
 -i"mg to give n.ore h „ t, k.^ TI "' ^r^^'^'^' ^ ^ ^"» 
 '"ortgage on my own proper v\ffi ' '"^^ ''""^'* ''■'^'^'^ a 
 
 duced to the sale from fhn ^ ^ ^ '""^^ ^e the more i„- 
 "' the head of yo "h U^'Tr ? ^J ^^'""" - -amp^ 
 through Lord Var^ravpl '~ "'^ ^laUravers, as I learn 
 Court' WallTr:;.!:;;'^ ^^^-'^^^ ^« '^ose of lS 
 I am, dear Sir, truly yours, 
 
 32 DOLTIMORE. 
 
[i I 
 
 •! i 
 
 »>j 
 
 III 
 
 ^1 
 
 498 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 i"? 
 
 "Ay," said Maltravora, Mttcrly, crusliing the letter 
 in his hand; "hit our name ho hhittod out from the 
 land, and our hearths pass to the stranger. How could 
 I ever visit again the place where I first saw her? " 
 
 He resolved at once: he would write to England, 
 and place the matter in the hands of agents. This was 
 hut a short-lived diversion to his thoughts, and their 
 cloudj' darkness soon gathered round him again. 
 
 What I am now about to relate may appear , to a hasty 
 criticism, to savor of the supernatural; but it is easily 
 accounted for by ordinary agencies, and it is strictly to 
 the letter of the tiuth. 
 
 In his sleep that night, a dream appeared to Mal- 
 travers. He thought he was alone in the old library at 
 ]^urleigh, and gazing on the portrait of his mother; as 
 he so gazed, he fancied that a cold and awful tremor 
 seized upon him, that he in vain endeavored to with- 
 draw his eyes from the canvas, — his sight was chained 
 there by an irresistible spell. Then it seemed to him 
 that the portrait gradually changed: the features the 
 same, but the bloom vanished into a white and ghastly 
 hue; the colors of the dress faded, their fashion grew 
 more large and flowing, but heavy and rigid as if cut in 
 stone, — the robes of the grave. But on the face there 
 was a soft and melancholy smile, that took from its livid 
 aspect the natural horror; the lips moved, and, it seemed 
 as if without a sound, the released soul spoke to that 
 which the earth yet owned. 
 
 "Return," it said, "to thy native land and thine 
 own home. Leave not the last relic of her who bore 
 and yet wotches over thee to stranger hands. Thy good 
 angel shall meet thee at thy hearth ! " 
 
 The voice ceased. With a violent effort Maltravers 
 broke the spell that had forbidden his utterance. He 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTEUIES. 499 
 
 called aloud, and the dream vanished; lio was broad 
 awake his hair erect, the cold dews on his brow. 
 The pallet rather than bed on which he lay was oppo- 
 site to the window, and the wintry moonlight streamed 
 wan and spectral into the cheerless room. IJut between 
 himself and the light tliere seemed to stand a shape a 
 shadow, — that into which the portrait had changed in 
 his dream, that which had accosted and chilled his soul 
 He sprang forward: "My mother! even in the grave 
 canst thou bless thy wretched son! Oh, leave me not- 
 say that thou-" The delusion vanished, and Mal- 
 travers fell back insensible. 
 
 It was long in vain, when, in the healthful light of 
 day, he revolved this memorable dream, that Mai tra vers 
 sought to convince himself that dreams need no minis- 
 ters from heaven or hell to bring the gli.ling falsehoods 
 along the paths of sleep; that the effect of that dream 
 Itself on his shattered nerves, his excited fancy, was the 
 real and sole raiser of the spectre he had thought to be- 
 hold on waking. Long was it before his ju.lgment could 
 gam the victory, and reason disown the empire of a 
 turbulent imagination; and even when at length re- 
 luctantly convinced, the dream still haunted him, and 
 he could not shake it from his breast. He longed 
 anxiously for the next night; it came, but it brought 
 neither dreams nor sleep, and the rain beat and the 
 winas howled against the casen:ent. Another nirrht 
 and the moon was again bright, and he fell into a deep 
 sleep: no vision disturbed or hallowed it. He woke 
 ashamed of his own expectation. But the event, such 
 as It was, by giving a new turn to his thoughts, had 
 roused and relieved his spirit, and misery sat upon him 
 with a lighter load. Perhaps, too, to that still haunt- 
 ing recollection was mainly owing a change in hi-s former 
 

 (lii 
 
 ml! 
 
 500 
 
 ALICE; OR, TUK MYSTEHIES. 
 
 purpose. Ho would Htill sell tho old hall, but he would 
 first return and remove that holy portrait with pious 
 hands; he would garner up and save all that had be- 
 longed to her \vhose death had been his birth. Ah, 
 never had she known for what trials the infant had 
 been reserved! 
 
 i-fi 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 601 
 
 , but he would 
 lit with pious 
 that had be- 
 i birth. Ah, 
 le infant had 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 A , a , . '^^^ ^^^^""y ''°»'"'' sfeal on. 
 And flaky darkness breaks. 
 
 Richard ITT. 
 Onck more, suddenly and unlocked for, the lord of 
 
 agam the Id housekeeper and her satellites were thrown 
 mto dismay and consternation. Amidst blank nd we 
 comeless faces, Maltravers passed into his study and a, 
 soon as the logs burned and the bustle was ovt' and he 
 was left a one, he took up the light and passld\2 the 
 adjomxng hbrary. It was then about nine o'cloo in the 
 evening; the air of the room felt damp and .In" 1 ^ 
 
 the light but faintly struggled a^^ainst tho n ' , "'"'^ 
 
 nf fv,« 1 1 1 1 ,. , «'o^^" against the mournful eloom 
 of the dark, book-hned walls and sombre tapestry X 
 placed the candle on the table, and drawhfJ Sde tt 
 curtain hat veiled the portrait, gazed with deep emo 
 ion. not unmixed with awe. upon the beauS fTce" 
 
 ne.s Thefe is something mystical about those painted 
 ghosts of ourselves that survive our very dust Win 
 gazing upon them long and wistfully, does not half Z; 
 that they seem not insensible to his gaze, as if we k ked 
 whir ^ ' "*; ''^"' ^^^ "^^ «y- *hat fo Lw a':' 
 
 flickering light, seemed to bend down towards fhe det 
 
IM 
 
 •) I 
 
 ,-HI 
 
 I 
 
 502 
 
 ALICE; OH, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 late son. How had lie ever loved the memory of his 
 mother! How often in his childish years had he stolen 
 away, and shed wiki tears for the loss of that dearest of 
 earthly ties, never to be compensated, never to be re- 
 placed! How had he respected, how sympathized, with 
 the very repugnance which his father had at first testified 
 towards him, as the innocent cause of her untimely death I 
 He had never seen her, — never felt her passionate kis^; 
 and yet it seemed to him, as he gazed, as if he had 
 known her for years. That strange kind of inner and 
 spiritual memory which often recalls to us plact and 
 persons we have never seen before, and which Platonists 
 would resolve to the unquenched and struggling conscious- 
 ness of a former life, stirred within him, and seemed 
 to whisper, " You were united m the old time." " Yes," 
 he said, half aloud ; " we will never part again. Blessed 
 be the delusion of the dream that recalled to my heart 
 the remembrance of thee, which, at least, I can cherish 
 without a sin! 'My good angel shall meet me at my 
 hearth! ' So didst thou say in the solemn vision. Ah, 
 does thy soul watch over me still ? How long shall it be 
 before the barrier is broken, — how long before we meet, 
 but not in dreams ? " 
 
 The door opened; the housekeeper looked in. "I 
 beg pardon, sir, but T thought your honor would excuse 
 
 the liberty, though I know it is very bold to " 
 
 " What is the matter, — what do you want? " 
 "Why, sir, poor Mrs. Elton is dying; they say she 
 cannot get over the night; and as the carriage drove by 
 the cottage window, the nurse told her that the squire was 
 returned; and she has sent up the nurse to entreat to see 
 your honor before she dies. I am sure I was most loath 
 to disturb you, sir, with such a message; and says I, the 
 squire has only just come oflf a journey, and " 
 
 1 1 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MVSTERIEH. 503 
 
 " Who is Mrs. Elton ? " 
 
 vied Tl,r'- '°""' •^'""'■»™«! "*e is t„ boon 
 
 IL Sr.r"""' " '«' '-«.-«« bark leaver ;.;„ 
 
 readied lier bedsi.le l. i if '"'^"'''- ^« 
 
 uLUhiae, and look lier hand kmAUr au 
 
 travors rctunieil ho.no n i ^ , ™ ^rass as Mal- 
 
 Jlep was elastic and .re 1:1.: 7 Tr ""' "^ 
 
 broke within l.im l.„f .,• , , ^'?'^,^' -^^Pe once more 
 
 combated by ala In ' .1 ''^f^ ^^"'^^' ^'^^ ^^^-"y 
 
 ™ o, deep and wZr • riTt:":^: ™'"''' 
 It IS now time to place before tl,e reuier it. , 
 
 ary portions on Maltravers '"^ '""^ ^^^^"^^^^ 
 
504 
 
 ALICE; UK, JUH MVSTEUIES. 
 
 •''i 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 I canna cliuse, but ever will 
 Bo luviiig to thy fatlinr stil ; 
 Whair-eir ho j^ao, whair-eir he ryde, 
 My hn e with him maun sti! abyde ; 
 111 weil or wae, whaireir he p;ac, 
 Mine heart can neir depart him frae. 
 
 Lady Anne Bothwell's Lament. 
 
 It may be remembered that in the earlier part of this 
 continuation of tlie history of Maltravers, it was state! 
 that Aubrey had in early life met with the common lot 
 of a disappointed affection. Eleanor Wcstbrook, a young 
 woman of his own humble rank, had won, and seemed 
 to return, his love; but of that love she was not' worthy. 
 Vain, volatile, and ambitious, she forsook the poor 
 student for a more brilliant marriage. She accepted 
 the hand of a merchant, who Avas caught by her beauty, 
 and who had the reputation of great wealth. They 
 settled in London, and Aubrey lost all traces of her. 
 She gave birth to an only daughter; and when that 
 child had attained her fourteenth year, her husband sud- 
 denly, and seemingly without cause, put an end to his 
 existence. The cause, however, was apparent before he 
 was laid in his grave. He was involved far beyond his 
 fortune; he had died to escape beggary and a jail. 
 A small annuity, not exceeding one hundred pounds, 
 had been secured on the widow. On tliis income she 
 retired with her child into the country; and chance, 
 the vicinity of some distant connections, and the cheap- 
 ness of the place, concurred to fix her residence in the 
 
ALICE; OR, rilK msTEum. 50- 
 
 ontskirta of tho town of (-_ p, , 
 yxith luive boon most vol.ttil ■ . ,' ^'^''''"'^'''^^ that in 
 when bowe.l ,lown and d . f T""* ^^'"''''^'y. "fton, 
 «-y ure not fitted to onco " l 7 "^^' "'"'^■^'^>' -''-1 
 
 -^'- earth denii. tl.ey " k it"- ""''""'^^"^' ^'^ 
 heavon. ^ ^'^'''^ ^^ unputiontly frum 
 
 '^''"« was the case with Mrs Wp»fi , 
 t"rn of mi„a ^.^ought hor nltl^it ^^^ «n<lthis new 
 t!'e principal saint of thcf .u! i T '"'" '"''^^'' ^^^^h 
 Temploton: Wo i.^vo ^n hf I" ""'s ^^^^ ^^^'-'^ 
 ^^m^y in his tirst nmrriaZ d tb ' l'"""''"^" ^^'^« "«* 
 tJ»« bond. He was J^^ an • i ,""' ""^" ''""""^d 
 
 -nt and ,uiotIy, under ItSl "jr^^^'^-P-- 
 ho indulged his constitution.! , '^'^ "^ ^"« ''«ctrines, 
 this respect he was no ^th 7 •'""'• ^^^'^'^P'^ ^» 
 But then he professed to 1 ttt T '"'" ""* "^ *«"• 
 thousand nine hundred Jd n n ' '" "'"' ^^""^'^^^^ 
 million! To a fault of f "'""t.y-„,ne men out of a 
 
 of hypocrisy, Ld te" v ra^^ri '''' ''''' ''' ^^^^ 
 vice. Upon Mary Wes blr Tv. '"'"' '' ''''^ngerous 
 he ga.ed with eyes'th I ^a^^ T''"^'^ '^^"S^^^^' 
 the spirit. Even at th al „f 7 '""' '''' '^'^ '^ 
 l"m; but when, after wit h" "Lr " " '''"""'^ 
 Pand, three years were addeTto . f^'''"? ^''"*^ «^- 
 ton was most deeply in ove M "'"'■ '^'- ^^^"^P^^ 
 her disposition na'u'rally gl d an^ '17 1"^^^ ^«-^>'. 
 tion worse than neglected To^ ^J' tie but her educa- 
 nesses of a second-ntef.;!. frivolities and mean- 
 
 her father's deTth td 1 "' ^""'^^■'^^"^ ^"*« ^er till 
 the slavish sub! r;iete Z ^7'^'. '!" ^"^°^-^-' 
 transcendental supers on^'^^^'f'^"^ ^^'gotries, of a 
 violent, the whole charact"; of ''"^' '" '"^^^"'^^ ^"^ 
 
i * l( 
 
 HI ! t 
 
 I:] i 
 
 506 
 
 I ■ 
 
 i 1 
 
 ALICE; OH, THE MYSTKUIES. 
 
 naturally of lae.liocre and even feeble intellect, she 
 clung to the first plank held out to her in " that .vide 
 Hou of wax " in which "she halted." Early taught to 
 p.aco the most implicit faith in the dictates of Mr 
 ieinpleton; fastening her belief round him as the vine 
 winds Its tendrils round the oak; yielding to his as- 
 cendancy, and pleased with his fostering and almost 
 carcassing manner, — no confessor in l>al Italy ever was 
 more dangerous to village virtue than Richard Temple- 
 ton (who deemed himself the archetype of the only pure 
 Protestantism) to the morals and heart of Mary West- 
 brook. 
 
 Mrs. Westbrook, whose constitution had been prema- 
 turely broken by long participation in the excesses of 
 London dissipation, and by the reverse of fortune which 
 still preyed upon a spirit it had rather soured than hum- 
 bled, died when Mary Avas eighteen. Templeton became 
 the sole friend, comforter, and supporter of the daughter. 
 In an evil hour (let us trust not from premeditated 
 villany), — an hour when the heart of one was softened 
 by grief and gratitude, and the conscience of the other 
 laid asleep by passion, — the virtue of Mary Westbrook 
 was betrayed. Her sorrow and remorse, his own fears 
 of detection and aAvakened self-reproach, occasioned 
 lempleton the most anxious and poignant regret. 
 There had been a young woman in Mrs. Westbrook's 
 service, who had left it a short time before the widow 
 died, in consequence of her marriage. Her husband 
 ill-used her; and, glad to escape from him and prove 
 her gratitude to her employer's daughter, of whom she 
 had been extremely fond, she had returned to Miss 
 Westbrook after the funeral of the mother. The name 
 of this woman was Sarah Miles. Templeton saw that 
 Sarah more than suspected his connection with Mary; it 
 
was necessary fn m i ' 
 
 --try.a„,Te,„piet:;X ^'"^^ "^ "e 
 
 '/•■^''-^•i was free to rl' , /"^''^^"^ '^-'^. ^nd tl 
 »"^n repented of w]iat W '''°"S- ^h, how ho 
 
 '^eiay. and all this s , tlu^'?"'^''-' '^^ ^""r' n.onth " 
 -;-^- ^ He .as now ra keTwirr ."^'^'^ ^'^^^ ^-n 
 h« unfortunate victim was -dvt ^7'^'*^ ^"^^ ^oubt; 
 It was necessary, if he w sled h :!'".'" ^'^^^"-^y 
 - still more if ho .-ishod f ^'^"^ *^ '^'^ legitimate 
 
 "'"ther. -th,t he sho Idlt', 'T''^' ^^« ^o^or oT s' 
 
 t^«« to which dutv a d r ' "^'"'"^'^^^^^^ 
 
 «" "- other han.f h 't^"^"^"- "^ged him. Bu 
 "^-"late example o Ui L^''"*' '^' -«cle, thelm 
 
 --> to scandL.e h wS'^r'^"^"^^^' ^^ ^^co- 
 ttature a hymen, - '''^'^ ^^ «« rapid and pre- 
 
 "HSStthLr^*r'«^*--teara 
 To marry." '"^ '^ ^'^ g«"ed eyes, 
 
 ^^i-;h':frfor t^:,^^^--^t^e gossips the 
 
 ;-anlc and rash a f;i '^ Z ,VV''' ^^-X. by 
 !?;-d for her health.Vl , t '''7 P'""^*^ - he 
 J^herewasamiddlepath !!a 1 '" "'^'^"'^ °%"ng. 
 -nd he world; he grasped at it ^'"'"^^^ '^^^-^^n dufy 
 situated would have done L'' '""'' ^"^" ^^"^ilarly 
 privately, and under feigned^ ^^ ''"'" "^«"i^d, but 
 «Jo-. Sarah Miles fstheo"T'' *'^ ^^^^ -as kept 
 -f the real condition .- nd tVes of H^'"" ^''^"^^^'d 
 
 J^econciled to herself thlT f "'" P^>""««- 
 «P-its; Templeton^foi d t^ "'^°^'^"<^ ^^^^^^ and 
 
508 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 ■Wi 
 
 go abroad; Mary should follow. In a foreign land they 
 should bo publicly married; they would remain some 
 years on the Continent; when ho returned, hia child's 
 age could be put back a year. Oh, nothing could be 
 more clear and easy ! 
 
 Death shivered into atoms all the plans of Mr. Tem- 
 pleton. Mary suffered most severely in childbirth, and 
 died a few weeks afterwards. Templeton at first was in- 
 consolable, but worldly thoughts were great comforters. 
 He had done all that consci^^nce could do to atone a sin, 
 and he was freed from a most embarrassing dilemma, and 
 from a temporary banishment utterly uncongenial and 
 unpalatable to his habits and ideas. But now he had a 
 child, —a legitimate child, successor to his name, his 
 wealth; a first-born child; the only one ever sprung 
 from him, the prop and hope of advancing years! On 
 this child he doted, with all that paternal passion which 
 the hardest and coldest men often feel the most for their 
 own flesh and blood; for fatherly love is sometimes but 
 a transfer of self-love from one fund to another. 
 
 Yet this child — this darling that he longed to show 
 to the whole world — it was absolutely necessary, for the 
 present, that he hould conceal and d sow]i. It had 
 happened that Sarah's husband died of his own excesses 
 a few weeks before the birth of Templeton's child, she 
 having herself just recovered from her confinement. 
 Sarah was therefore free forever from her husband's vigi- 
 lance and control. To her care the destined heiress was 
 committed, and her own child put out to nurse. And 
 this was the woman and this the child who had excited 
 so much benevolent curiosity in the breasts of the 
 
 worthy clergyman and the three old maids of C . 
 
 Alarmed at Sarah's account of the scrutiny of the par- 
 1 See "Ernest Maltravers," Book iv., pp. 216-218. 
 
 
 j:^-IX. 
 
ALICE; OR, THE iMYfiTEKIES. 
 
 roign land they 
 d remain some 
 led, his chiUl's 
 >thing could be 
 
 ns of Mr. Tem- 
 childbirth, and 
 1 at first was in- 
 ;rcat comforters. 
 to atone a sin, 
 ig dilemma, and 
 incongcnial and 
 ut now he had a 
 
 his name, his 
 me ever sprung 
 ;ing years! On 
 il passion which 
 K" most for their 
 is sometimes hut 
 inother. 
 
 } longed to show 
 lecessary , for the 
 lisowii. It had 
 liis own excesses 
 Eton's child, she 
 ler confinement. 
 ■ husband's vigi- 
 ined heiress was 
 ; to nurse. And 
 who had excited 
 
 1 breasts of the 
 
 aaids of C .^ 
 
 tiny of the par- 
 
 )p. 216-218. 
 
 509 
 
 son, and at his own rencontre witl 
 
 1 that hawk-oyed 
 
 ;;:";::!!"'"■?? '»' - «- "■ ^^^:::nrzz: 
 
 tlie 
 
 nurse; and to lior new rcsid 
 
 f 
 
 once h.id the banker 
 
 i^„„, ,. -^ ■' "-oiiiuiiuB ii.ui tne banker 
 
 w Id h w-r'' r^- "' '"'^ ^"«'«' «" ^h^t evLr" 
 
 Wl.en Mr Templeton first met Alice, his own child 
 wj^ on y about thirteen or fourteen months old"-! b ^ 
 htt e older than Alice 's. If the beauty of Mrs Leslie's 
 protegee first excited his coarser nature, her mat na 
 enderness her anxious care for her little one, Truck a 
 congenial chord in the father's heart. It conni d him 
 with her by a mute and unceasing symnathv T.l 
 ton had felt so deeply the alarm atd X o^illie Z !' 
 he had been (as he profanely believed) saved from 
 
 ^ea.a his peace of ,:::!;\,.,;l:;™^ 
 
 Th dearest desire at his heart was to have his daJ^ht; 
 under his roof; to fondh, to play with her; to watch 
 her growth, to win her affection Th,%. of x 
 
 seemed impossible. B.t if he ^^ to m^ ;, l^r^l' 
 widow to whom he might confide all, or <a portion of 
 he truth; if that child could be passed off as hers -- 
 
 viJe Y^sw' "'^•^"' ^"'^ Templeton wanTed a 
 wite. Years were creeping on him, and the day w.uld 
 come when a wife would be useful as a nurse But 
 Alice was supposed to be a widow; and Alic was o 
 meek, so docile, so motherly. If she could Tindld 
 
 or call It her niece, and adopt his. Such from fimn f 
 tune were Templeton. tllgh. as'he V^tl cf 
 and found, with every visit, fresh evidence of her ten-' 
 der and beautiful disposition; such the objects which. 
 1 See " Ernest Maltravers," Book iv., p. 240. 
 
u 
 
 ii 
 
 
 
 , i 
 
 .. ' ) 
 
 il- 
 
 % 
 
 '« 
 
 
 ^1 
 
 610 
 
 ALICE ; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 in the First Part of this work, we intimated were dififer- 
 ent from those of mere admiration for her beauty.* But 
 again, worldly doubts and fears — the dislike of so un- 
 suitable an alliance, the worse than lowness of Alice's 
 origin, e dread of discovery for her early error — held 
 him back, wavering and irresolute. To say truth, too, 
 her innocence and purity of thought kept him at a certain 
 distance. He was acute enough to see that he, even he, 
 the great Richard Templeton, might be refused by the 
 faithful Alice. 
 
 At last Darvil was dead. He breathed more freely; 
 he revolved more seriously his projects; and at this 
 time Sarah, wooed by her first lover, wished to marry 
 again. His secret would pass from her breast to her 
 second husband's, and thence how far would it travel? 
 Added to this, Sarah's conscience grew uneasy; the 
 brand ought to be effaced from the memory of the dead 
 mother, — the legitimacy of the child proclaimed. She 
 became importunate, — she wearied and she alarmed the 
 pious man. He therefore resolved to rid himself of the 
 only witness to his marriage whose testimony he had 
 cause to fear, — of the presence of the only one ac- 
 quainted with his sin, and the real name of the husband 
 of Mary Westbrook. He consented to Sarah's marriage 
 with William Elton, and offered a liberal dowry on the 
 condition that she should yield to the wish of Elton 
 himself, an adventurous young man, who desired to try 
 
 1 "Our banker always seemed more struck by Alice's moral 
 feelings than even by her physical beauty. Her love for her child, 
 for instance, impressed him powerfully," etc. " His feelings alto- 
 gether for Alice, the designs he entertained towards her, were of a 
 very complicated nature ; and it will be long, perhaps, before the 
 reader can thoroughly comprehend them." — See " Ernest MaltrO' 
 vers," Book iv., p. 235. 
 
 i 
 
ALICE ; OR, THE MYSTERIES. QH 
 
 his fortunes in the New World Vf;. a u. , 
 remove elsewliere. '' daughter he must 
 
 While this was going on. Alicp'^ nhUA i 
 -d drooping, became lri™tl^° 1 .*";pZLiT 
 c,ne appeare,,; the ph,sicia/,eeo.„'e2^T ^ ,t" 
 'all tt "'°,""" '"'KS"^''''- Nothing coula 
 
 withrh^th '; z"ti='°"; """ """ ^'-' 
 
 for her ehiWs aalfe to allt otfetl" "™"'" °°"°'"^^ 
 
 4h r f L h rue :: ™ ^ '° ""■°^°'' '™"' ">« 
 i.^f:r"t;h-:^r,,tp;i7^^ 
 
 Wflt °r"™, '° "" *^' -"'8'" •» '- 'he cMlS 
 Ueneht, passively consented. It was arra„,,..l .1 
 
 proposed; and nnde,- the nan,e of ctn o t^^^^^^^^ Z 
 at once a common yet a well-snnn.lir, ' 
 
I 
 
 
 ;f~. ^ 
 
 2BH! 
 
 r 
 
 m 
 
 512 
 
 ALICE; on, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 few days ; and it was fixed tluit they should meet at 
 Exeter. 
 
 It was on this meLancholy journey that occurred that 
 memorable day when Alice once more beheld Maltra- 
 vers, and, as she believed, uttering the vows of love to 
 another.^ The indisposition of her child had delayed 
 her some hours at the inn ; the poor sufferer had fallen 
 asleep; and Alice had stolen from its couch for a little 
 while, when her eyes rested on the father. Oh, how 
 then she longed, she burned, to tell him of the new 
 sanctity that, by a human hfe, had been added to their 
 early love! And when, crashed and sick a^ heart, she 
 turned away, and believed herself forgotten and re- 
 placed, it was the pride of the mother, rather than 
 of the mistress, that supported her. She, meek crea- 
 ture, felt not the injury to herself; but his child, the 
 sufiferer, perhaps the dying one, — there, there was the 
 wrong! No; she would not hazard the chance of a cold 
 
 — Great Heaven ! perchance an incredulous — look upon 
 the hushed, pale face above. But little time was left 
 for thought, for explanation, for discovery. She saw 
 him — unconscious of the ties so near, and thus lost 
 
 — depart as a stranger from the spot; and henceforth 
 was gone the sweet hope of living for the future. Noth- 
 ing was left her but the pledge of that which had been. 
 Mournful, despondent, half broken-hearted, she resumed 
 her journey. At Exeter she was joined, as agreed, by 
 Mr. Templeton; and with him came a fair, a blooming 
 and healthful girl, to contrast her own drooping charge. 
 Though but a few weeks older, you would have supposed 
 the little stranger by a year the senior of Alice's child: 
 the one was so well grown, so advanced; the other so 
 backward, so nipped in the sickly bud. 
 
 1 See " Ernest Maltravers," Book v., p. 291. 
 
should meet at 
 
 AUCK; OR, T,IE MYSTKRIES. 
 
 «aid Temploton,-" by taking r •^'" ''^'^'^ y°"^«." 
 
 "nder your care. Tfc is t I ,', 'T' ''''''^'^ -'«<> 
 dear, to me. -an orpin, fk, f '"^ ^^'^''^^' '"-t 
 
 *o place it. Let it f^ the ZJSl ''''' "^^^'" ^'- 
 own, -the eWer child " ^' supposed your 
 
 sparkling eyes a^.d [tt ^''f^^^ girl, whose 
 
 looks and faded of h "'"'^^'^ "^« ^^"g"id 
 
 sufferer seemed ' ! ' „, ' "''" ''''^*"e- ^"t the 
 forth its poor, turn hands^ i^; "^ '/•''""'^^ ^' P^* 
 cry of pleasure, and Alice bir 'f ''' inarticulate 
 
 them ^o^A to her heart *" ^''^■^' ^"^ clasped 
 
 Mr. Templeton took care n,.f f 
 roof with her he now ZLX ?V'?^'' '^' ^'^^^ ' 
 M'ife; but he followed A c I L ' 'f '"^ '''^' ^"« 
 her daily. Her infant ra^ ed " :rT''' -^"^^ ^^^'^^^^ 
 "PPerair; it clung to life so fon^ll t. '"''^''^"^ ^^ the 
 not foresee what I bit r Jht f f " "'' '^^^^^^ ^' ^«"W 
 And now it was that Temp t'o n , ""' '' "^ ^'^^ ^-' 
 
 her adventure with her absL' :;/""""' '"" ^^^^^ 
 hope in that quarter was gone \ ' T.^'^'ng that all 
 
 pressed his suit. Alice at t^f ?' '^ °'''''^°". ^nd 
 with gratitude; in her child'l " ''"' overflowing 
 
 all her obligations to her b nef.lT"g 1"'^ ^'^^ ^^^ 
 word love, at the name of Zlrtj' , "j' '""' '' "^« 
 and the lost, the faithlpc' '"''''^'y^' her heart recoiled- 
 In choked and btket^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^ '^ ^^ ^^^^^ throne.' 
 
 With the refusal-ttfoS;' tarftf b1 "^''^"^^^• 
 fusal — of his suit. ^' "^' ''"' resolute re- 
 
 But Templeton broucrhf n^v 
 ^vooed her through her child I '"^."'^ *° ^^«^k: he 
 gi nercluld. he painted all the bril- 
 
514 
 
 ALICK; 01!, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 
 liant prospects that woiikl open to the infant by her 
 n irriage with liini. He would cherish, roar, provide 
 for it as his own. This shook her resolves; but this 
 did not prevaih He had recourse to a nwre generous 
 appeal: he old her so much of his history with Mary 
 Westbrook as conunanced with his hasty and indecorous 
 marriage, — attributing tlie liaste to love! — made her 
 comprehend his scruples in owning the cliild of a union 
 the world would be certain to ridicule or condemn; he 
 expatiated on the inestimable blessings she could afford 
 him, by delivering him from all embarrassment, and 
 restoring his (laughter, though under a borrowed name, 
 to her father's roof. At this Alice mused; at this she 
 seemed irresolute. She had long seen how inexpres- 
 sibly dear to Tcmpleton was the child confided to her 
 care; how he grew pale if the slightest ailment reached 
 her; hoAV he chafed at the very wind if it visited her 
 cheek too roughly; and she now said to him simply, ~ 
 "Is your child, in truth, your dearest object in life? 
 Is it with her, and her alone, that your dearest hopes 
 are connected ? " 
 
 "It is! it is indeed!" said the banker, honestly 
 surprised out of his gallantry, — " at least," he added, 
 recovering his self-possession, " as much so as is com- 
 patible with my affection for you." 
 
 " And only if I marry you, and adopt her as my own, 
 do you think that your secret may be safely kept, and 
 all your wishes with respect to her bo fulfilled ? " 
 "Only so." 
 
 " And for that reason chiefly, nr.y, entirely, you con- 
 descend to forget what I have been, and seek my hand? 
 Well, if that were all, I owe you too much; my poor 
 babe tells me too loudly what I owe you, to draw back 
 from anything tliat can give you so blessed an enjoy- 
 
' .f- 
 
 ALICE; OR, THR MYSTERIES. ^1^5 
 
 yo", it can be onlv J ^^^''f' ^"* «ien, if I marry 
 as a mot].r to Tot el ad"l ^ '^^.^ ^'^* ^^^"^^^^ *« '^^ 
 you. I am notr OS a 'to , "•'' °"^^ '"^ "^'^ ^^ 
 
 >"y babe s^afh ;, ArrLireF^ T" '^ ""^'""'^"' ^° 
 ^vill." And AI ./ i f '' ^^'^'^^'^ '^^ ^"« «« you 
 tered all t^d.s t^t oul ^n"^ "^^ ^""^^^"^ ^ad '„t- 
 passionatoly, and e t Temnrf ' "" t"^"^^ ^^^^' ^^^s 
 ficution and Surprise ^ ''" '^^^'^^^^^^ ^^'^^^ n.orti- 
 
 When he recovered himself T.<. .ft * i 
 stand her; but A]-« w / ^^''*^^ '^^^ *o under- 
 
 conversatiin ceatd h" T "'"f '''' "^'^ ^" ^"'"t^^- 
 and after rep IJed oon^, '"'' f '"^^' ^"^^ '' ^-^t. 
 hend how strange and rbT" "' "^^'"^^' ^'^ ^-P-' 
 humble creatu^fwhom his !'"' ^"i''"'' ^"^^"^^ ^^'^^ ^^e 
 Though his daug te^was -nr'l 1^ T ^'^"'^^ '^^^^d- 
 though for her h wa i W i T ^'j'"* ^'^ ^^^«' 
 the extent of which iwi/^ '".^ke a ..«'.«%•««,«, 
 studiously to col tl A :i l'V"T"'r^ °^ ^'"" 
 awoke an earthlier s ntim nt /l '. ^''"*^ ''^ ^^^'^ 
 
 to conquer. He was an « '''' "'* ^'''''P«''^'^d 
 
 and ta?k gene^L lyT b^ whln'^V" T'" ^^''^"^^^^•^' 
 solemn, a binding^ ^ar.! a , t.Tr^ ''' '''^'' ^ 
 acted, -he was startled and *^^%^^'<=« rigidly ex- 
 
 «"tical, he was as we Lv tT ^"'^- ^^'''""S^ hypo, 
 believe . He m^l., .. ^^"''' ''^^^' '^ '"««t sincere 
 bruised conSerf bu r ^'""f ' ^^'^^^'^ ^^th un- 
 ^Jared to violate an oa^ i' "'' '"' ^'^^" ^^^^^ have 
 
 have taken ulace.^ 1 ..t l! ' ' '''! .""•'- "^^-^^ would 
 
 , - — > ■""- uuiuu nevt 
 
 place, but Templeton fell ill; that 
 
 soft and 
 

 11 
 
 I 
 
 516 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 relaxing air did not agree with liim; alow but dan- 
 gerous fever soizod him, and the worldly man trembled 
 at the aspect of death. It was in this illness that Alice 
 nursed him with a dauglitcr's vigilance and care; and 
 when at length he recovered, impressed with her zeal 
 and kindness, softened by illness, af-id of the ap- 
 proach of solitary age, and feeling more tlian ever his 
 duties to his motherless cliild, he threw liimself at 
 Alice's feet, and solemnly vowed all that she required. 
 
 It was during this residence in Devonshire, and espe- 
 cially during his illness, that Templeton made and 
 cultivated the acquaintance of Mr. Aubrey. The good 
 clergyman prayed with him by his sick-bed; and when 
 Tompleton's danger was at its height, he sought to 
 relieve his conscience by a confession of his wrongs to 
 Mary Westbrook. The name startled Aubrey; and 
 when he learned that the lovely child who had so often 
 sat on his knee, and smiled in his face, was the grand- 
 daughter of his first and only love, he had a new interest 
 in her welfare, a new reason to urge Templeton to repa- 
 ration, a new motive to desire to procure for the infant 
 years of Eleanor's grandchild the gentle care of the 
 young mother, whose own bereavement he sorrowfully 
 foretold. Perhaps the advice and exhortations of Au- 
 brey went far towards assisting the conscience of Mr. 
 Templeton, and reconciling him to the sacrifice he made 
 to his affection for his daughter. Be that as it may, he 
 married Alice, and Aubrey solemnized and blessed the 
 chill and barren union. 
 
 But now came a new and inexpressible affliction : the 
 child of Alice had rallied l)ut for a time. The dread 
 disease had but dallied with its prey: it came on with 
 rapid and sudden force; and within a month from the 
 day that saw Alice the bride of Templeton, the last 
 
AUCI.:; OR, THR MYRTr^RlES. 
 
 . - 517 
 
 'r "^^ ^""°' -•' ^'^' -"- - bereft ..I chi.,- 
 
 banker. No^v /.// S i "7'^?'"^ ^"""* ^^^ ^hn 
 now there could be ntgl;' '" ^^/^^'^ -'« oaro; 
 ■•^ncl after death, he ZZ ' , "^'"°" ^'^^^' '» l'^'' 
 "«t l>i« own. to the other ^" '"'^ ^'"^'^' ^'^osed 
 
 had accompanied Ct^i''] ''^''''y '^""^"danf who 
 to London" and fma i; s J Lf T""' ^ I" '^^^ ^^^ -^^^ 
 villa in its vicinity I^f.t """ ^''"'^ '^'^^"' ^^ a 
 by day, centred his love upon th?' '"''' '"'^ '""^°' ^^^ 
 Mrs. Templeton, his d Hi L -''JPr^^^' '''-^"ghter of 
 beautiful Evelyn Gamer j'^ """^ '^" ^''^''''' ^ho 
 
 al^^^dlSsSl^:::;^?"^ evinced some 
 imposed upon himself- hufn h T *^' ""^^ he had 
 -as a sternness in the \J ?e' n lu f ''''*"* '""^' ^^ere 
 submissive, that repressed 2l T I" ^"^^Pectful, so 
 
 threatened, and at on'eZe wTs IXU'''";; ''' -- 
 carrying tlie threat into effect tnV ^ ^^^^ Prevented 
 if there were the slightest qutt on ^J"'^ '^l- ^^ ' 
 ^--. Templeton trembled "ch 1 1 "" .''^^ ''^ ^'« 
 excite gossip, curiosity scandal n- .''P''»™t'on -ould 
 
 lie talk, possible dis';;:; ' ^^^r "; r" "^^^^^' p"'^" 
 
 sary to Evelyn, necessarv t . i ."''''*' ^l^'^'' -as neces- 
 to scold in L:itrso7et linTtrr^'^^'^ ^""^^*^-»" 
 Gradually then, b^t s^ enlv^ '"^^ "^'^ "^ i""^-^- 
 his lot; and as ;ea; and in J' ^ '"''""'^^'^^ ^'"^««lf to 
 -as contented, T eLl to^ "'"^ ^""^ "P°" him, he 
 and an anxious nu^ ''s'lr"""'' '^'^'^'"^ ^^'-^^^^ 
 was not blessed: Temnieton ' T"'^^' "^ ^^is sort 
 iempieton s vanity was wounded: his 
 
»&i 
 
 I"' t^^ • 
 
 
 ! if 
 
 , 
 
 , 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 ! 
 
 i- 
 
 Mlij 
 
 « J 
 
 518 
 
 ALICK ; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 temper, always harsh, was soured; he avenged hii 
 affmnt hy a tliousaml petty tyraimii>s; and, without a 
 murmur, Alice perhaps, in those years of rank and 
 opulence, suffered more than in all her rootless wander- 
 ings, with love at her lieart and her i.ifaut in her arms. 
 
 Evelyn was to he the heiress to the wealth of the 
 hanker. But the title oi the new peer! — if he could 
 .inite wealth, and title, and set the coronet on that young 
 hrow! This had led him to seek the alliance with Lum- 
 ley. And on his dcath-hed, it was not the secret of 
 Alice, but that of Mary Westhrook and his daughter, 
 which he had revealed to his dismayed and astonished 
 nephew, in excuse for the apparently unjust alienation 
 of his property, and as the cause of the alliance he had 
 
 sought. 
 
 While her husband, if husband he might be called, 
 lived, Alice had seemed to bury in her bosom her re- 
 gret (deep, mighty, passionate, as it was) for her lost 
 child, — the child of the unforgotten lover, to whom, 
 through such trials, and amid such new ties, she had 
 been faithful from first to last. But when once more 
 free, her heart flew back to the far and lowly grave. 
 Hence her yearly visits to Brook-Green ; hence her pur- 
 chase of the cottage, hallowed by memories of the dead. 
 There, on that lawn, had she borne forth the fragile form 
 to breathe the soft, noontide air; there, in that chamber, 
 had she watched and hoped and prayed and despaired ; 
 there, in that quiet burial-ground, rested the beloved 
 dust. But Alice, even in her holiest feelings, was not 
 selfish : she forbore to gratify the first wish of her heart 
 till Evelyn's ed cation was sufficiently advanced to en- 
 able her to quit the neighborhood; and then, to the 
 delight of Aubrey (who saw in Evelyn a fairer and 
 nobler and purer Eleanor), she came to the solitary 
 
ALICE; OK, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 519 
 
 ! avenged hii 
 iiul, without a 
 s of rank and 
 oofless wander- 
 t in her arms. 
 
 wealth of the 
 ! — if he could 
 t on that young 
 ince with Lum- 
 t the secret of 
 I his daughter, 
 
 and astonished 
 ijust alienation 
 alliance he had 
 
 light be called, 
 r bosom her re- 
 as) for her lost 
 over, to whom, 
 !W ties, she had 
 ivhen once more 
 nd lowly grave. 
 ; hence her pur- 
 ries of the dead. 
 
 the fragile form 
 in that chamber, 
 i and despaired ; 
 ted the beloved 
 "eelings, was not 
 'ish of her heart 
 advanced to en- 
 nd then, to the 
 lyn a fairer and 
 
 to the solitary 
 
 spot, which, in all the earth, was the least solitary to 
 her. 
 
 And now the image of the lover of her youth — which, 
 during her marriage, she had soxujht, at least, to banish 
 — returned to her, and at times inspired hov with the 
 only hopes that the grave had not yet transferred to 
 heaven-? In relating her tale to Aubrey, or in convers- 
 ing with Mrs. Leslie, whose friendship she still main- 
 tained, she found that both concurred in thinking that 
 this obscure and wandering Butler, so skilled in an art 
 in which eminence in men is generally professional, 
 must be of mediocre, or perhaps luimble station. Ah! 
 now that she was free and rich, if she were to meet him 
 again, and his love was not all gone, and he would be- 
 lieve in her strange and constant trutli, — now, his in- 
 fidelity could be forgiven, forgotten in the benefits it 
 might be hers to bestow! And how, poor Alice, in 
 that remote village, was chance to throw him in your 
 way? She knew not; but something often whispered 
 to her, " i\ gain you shall meet those eyes ; again you 
 shall hear that voice; and you shall tell him, weeping 
 on his breast, how you loved his child! " And would he 
 not have forgotten her? Would he not have formed 
 new ties? Could he read the loveliness of unchange- 
 able affection in that pale and pensive face? Alas! 
 when we love intensely, it is difficult to make us fancy 
 that there is no love in return. 
 
 The reader is acquainted with the adventures of Mrs. 
 Elton, the sole confidant of the secret union of Temple- 
 ton and Evelyn's mother. By a singular fatality, it was 
 the selfish and characteristic recklessness of Vargrave that 
 had, in fixing her home at Burleigh, ministered to the 
 revelation of his own villanous deceit. On returning 
 
i^ 
 
 520 
 
 ALIOK ; OK, TlIK MYSTERIES. 
 
 r ' 
 
 > 1 
 
 I/} 
 
 ^'' h 
 
 m 
 
 to ICngland she liad iiujuired for Mr. Tompleton; sho 
 had learned that lie had married again, had been raised 
 to the peerage under the title of Lord Vargrave, and 
 was gathered to his fatherb. Slie had no claina on his 
 widow or his family. But the unfortunate child who 
 should have inherited his property, — she could only 
 suppose her dead. 
 
 When she first saw Evelyn, she was startled by her 
 likeness to her unfortunate mother. But the unfamiliar 
 name of Cameron, the intelligence received from Mal- 
 travers that Evelyn's mother still lived, dispelled her 
 suspicions; and though at times the resemblance 
 haunted her, she doubted and inquired no more. In 
 fact, her own infirmities grew upon her, and pain 
 usurped her thoughts. 
 
 Now it so happened that the news of the engagement 
 of Maltravers to Miss Cameron became known to the 
 county but a little time before he arrived, — for news 
 travels slow from the Continent to our provinces, — 
 and, of course, excited all the comment of the vil- 
 lagers. Her nurse repeated the tale to Mrs. Elton, 
 who instantly remembered the name, and recalled the 
 resemblance of Miss Cameron to the unfortunate Mary 
 Westbrook. 
 
 "And," said the gossiping nurse, " she was engaged, 
 they say, to a great lord, and gave him up for the 
 squire, — a great lord in the court, who had been staying 
 at Parson Merton's, Lord Vargrave ! " 
 
 " Lord Vargrave! " exclaimed Mrs. Elton, remember- 
 ing the title to which Mr. Templeton had been raised. 
 
 " Yes ; they do say as how the late lord left Miss 
 Cameron all his money — such a heap of it, though she 
 was not his child — over the head of his nevy , the pres- 
 ent lord, on the understanding like that they were to be 
 
ALIGK; 0|{, THK MVSTEUTES. 
 
 521 
 
 married whon sho camo of ..,-,^0. l^„t sho woi.ld not tako 
 to lam after she had seen the ,s,uire. And, to be s t 
 the^^^qmre . the fine.st-looking g.ntlen/an in til' 
 
 lord M^lt T' 'V'f '^"- ^'^""' '"^^'^'y-' ""- I'-^te 
 lord eft all his fortune to Miss Cameron ?_ not his 
 
 foster-cluld!" she murmured, turning away. « H^w 
 could I have mistaken that likeness ? " 
 
 The agitation of the discovery she supposed she had 
 made, her joy at the thought that the child s e h. d 
 oved as her own was alive and possessed of its rights 
 expedited the progress of Mrs. Elton's disease; and Ma ! 
 ravers arrived just in time to learn her confession 
 (which she naturally wished to n.ake to one who wa " 
 once her benefactor, and supposed to be the de t ned 
 Hisband of her foster-child), and to be agitated wh 
 'ope. vith joy. at her solemn conviction of the tn.th of 
 her surmises. If Evelyn were not his daughter, even 
 If not to be his bride, _ what a weight from hi Zv 
 He hastened to Brook-Green; and dr°eading o ush 
 once to the presence of Alice, he recalled Aubrey to his 
 recollection. In the interview he sought, an'or 
 least much, was cleared up. He saw at' once tie pr - 
 meditatod and well-planned villany of Vargrave. And 
 
 tl'\Vt' ^'' '"^'^"^8^' ^'' indomitable love.- 
 how should he meet /ier? 
 
1' ''''^} 
 
 ■^ 
 
 1 
 
 
 •r 
 
 
 ' \l 
 
 •; » 
 
 
 ■1 ^ 
 
 522 
 
 ALICK; OK, THK MYSTERIES. 
 
 11 
 
 f; 
 
 .' ' 
 
 kLt 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Yet once more, ye laurels ! and once more, 
 Ye myrtles ! 
 
 Lycidas. 
 
 Whilk Maltravers was yet agitated and excited by the 
 disclosures of the rurate, to wliom, as a matter of course, 
 he had divulged his own identity with the myHtcrious 
 Butler, Aubrey, turning his eyes to the casement, saw 
 the form of Lady Vargrave slowly approaching towards 
 the house. 
 
 "Will you withdraw to the inner room?" said he. 
 " She is coming; you are not yet prepared to meet her! 
 Nay, would it be well ? " 
 
 "Yes, yes; I am prepared, — we must be alone. I 
 will await her here." 
 "But—" 
 
 " Nay , T implore you ! " 
 
 The curate, without another word retired into the 
 inner apartment; and Maltravers, sinking in a chair, 
 breathlessly awaited the entrance of Lady Vargrave. 
 He soon heard the light step without; the door, which 
 opened at once on the old-fashioned parlor, was gently 
 unclosed, and Lady Vargrave was in the room. In the 
 position he had taken, only the outline of Ernest's form 
 was seen by Alice, and the daylight came dim through 
 the cottage casement ; and seeing some one seated in the 
 curate's accustomed chair, she could but believe that it 
 was Aubrey himself. 
 
 " Do not let me interrupt you," said that sweet, low 
 voice, whose music had been dumb for so many years to 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTEUIKS. 
 
 523 
 
 st be alone. I 
 
 Matravers "hut I havo a letter fron: Franc, fro,„ a 
 stranger. It alarms mo so, _ it is ulK.nt Kvelyn ; " an.I 
 as If to ,mply that she me.litated a !on.^.r visit than 
 
 " or«;p f M ^^"\"" """"'"' '"^ ^^•^""'^^'" '^' placed 
 t on the table. Surprised that the curate h ul not 
 
 answered, had not come forward to v oJ.vme h. , she 
 hen approached; Mai tra vers rose, and t.... .tood ^fore 
 each other, face to face. And how lovel v «, , : ,,,8 Alice 
 -lovelier, he thought, even than of old! And those' 
 eyes, so div.nely blue, so doveliko and soft, yet with 
 some sp.ntual and unfathomable n,ystery in their clear 
 depth were once more fixed upon him. Alice seemed 
 turned to stone; she moved not; she spoke not, -she 
 scarcely ]>reathed; she gazed spellbound, as if her senses 
 — as If life itself — had deserted her 
 
 at'lattl"'"'" '"^^"'"'^ Maltravers,-" Alice, we meet 
 
 His voice restored memory, consciousness, youth, at 
 once to her She uttered a loud cry of unspeakable jW, 
 of rapture! She sprang forward, reserve, fear, time 
 change, all forgotten; she threw herself into his arms- 
 she clasped him to her heart again and again. The 
 faithful dog that has found his master expresses not his 
 transport more uncontrollably, more wildly. It was 
 something fearful,- the excess of her ecstasy. She 
 kissed his hands, his clothes; she laughed; she wept; 
 and at last, as words came, she laid her head on his 
 breast, and said passionately, « I liave been true to thee > 
 I have been true to thee, or this hour would have killed 
 me. Then, as if alarmed by his silence, she looked 
 up into his face, and as his burning tears fell upon her 
 cheek, she said again, and with more hurried vehemence. 
 I have been faithful ; do you not believe me ? " 
 I do, I do, noble, unequalled Alice ! Why, why were 
 
m 
 
 
 I la...] 
 4 
 
 - 
 
 ■V. 
 
 1 
 
 
 1 
 
 lj^ 
 
 
 1 
 
 iJ. 
 
 1 
 
 524 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 you so long lost to me ? Why now docs your love so 
 shame my own ? " 
 
 At these words Alice appeared to awaken from her 
 first oblivion of all that had chanced since they met; 
 .she blushed daeply, and drew herself gently and bash- 
 fully from his embrace. "Ah!" she said, in altered 
 and humbled accents, " you have loved another! perhaps 
 you have no love left for me! Is it so? Is it? No, no; 
 those eyes — you love me — you love me still ! " 
 
 And again she clung to him, as if it were heaven to 
 believe all things, and doath to doubt. Then, after a 
 pause, she drew him gently with both her hands towards 
 the light, and gazed upon him fondly, proudly, as if to 
 tiace, line by line, and feature by feature, the counte- 
 nance which had been to her sweet thoughts as the 
 sunlight to the flowers. "Changed, changed," she 
 muttered; "but still the same, — still beautiful, still 
 divine!" She stopped; a sudden thought struck her: 
 his garments were worn and soiled by travel, and that 
 princely crest, fallen and dejected, no longer towered in 
 proud defiance above the sons of men. " You are not 
 rich," she exclaimed eagerly, — "say you are not rich! 
 I am rich enough for both ; it is all yours, — all yours. 
 I did not betray you for it; there is no shame in it. 
 Oh, we shall be so happy! Thou art come back to thy 
 poor Alice! thou knowest how she loved thee! " 
 
 There was in Alice's manner, her wild joy, something 
 so different from her ordinary self, that none who could 
 have seen her, quiet, pensive, subdued, would have 
 fancied her the same being. All that society and its 
 woes had ta jht were gone, and Nature once more 
 claimed her fairest child. The very years seemed to 
 have fallen from her brow, and she looked scarcely 
 older than Wiien she had stood with him bep^ath the 
 
oos your love so 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 525 
 
 sad and so emn aspect succeeded to that expression o^ 
 passionate oy. « n^mp " ^i,„ • j • '^•^P'^^^sion ot 
 "come, follow-" anT ^til , '^ ' whisper. - 
 
 drew him to th^ do" S 1 T"° ^'" '"^''' '''' 
 ]n..r.A ^ ^^"* ■'^"d wonder nslv he fnl- 
 
 breitMp== fT, . b"^""o &tep,-_«o pale, so hushed, so 
 
 Qi,„ , , 1^ ^™'^ "ot owned bv pnvfh 
 
 She paused where the yew-tree cast \u „l , f 
 
 there — Evelvn I,Pr„1f , f"' " '"» '>»»'= pnde; and 
 Heaven fJ^X^^Zl^TZrJ'''' "'^ '^ ''"^ '» 
 
 remainder of his vear^s tr, m,o. i * ,, . ' *"® 
 
 fai«.f„l and ohUdLr^ur """ '"'™ "' "" 
 
526 
 
 ALICE; OK, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Ili 
 
 
 MlH 
 
 Will Fortune never come with both hands full, 
 But write her fair words still in foulest letters 1 
 
 Henry 1 V., Part II. 
 
 I PASS over those explanations, that record of Alice's 
 eventful history, which Maltravers learned from her 
 own lips, to confirm and add to the narrative of the 
 curate, the purport of which is already known to the 
 reader. 
 
 It was many hours before Alice was sufficiently com- 
 posed to remember the object for which she had sought 
 the curate. But she had laid the letter which she had 
 brought, and which explained all, on the table at the 
 vicarage; and when Maltravers, having at last induced 
 Alice, who seemed afraid to lose sight of him for an 
 instant, to retire to her room, and seek some short re- 
 pose, returned towards the vicarage, he met Aubrey in 
 the garden. The old man had taken the friend's ac- 
 knowledged license to read the letter evidently meant 
 for his eye; and alarmed and anxious, he now eagerly 
 sought a consultation with Maltravers. The letter, 
 written in Engli. .i, as familiar to the writer as her 
 own tongue, was from Madame de Ventadour. It had 
 been evidently dictated by the kindest feelings. After 
 apologizing briefly for her interference, she stated that 
 Lord Vargrave's marriage with Miss Cameron was now 
 a matter of public notoriety ; that it would take place 
 in a few days; that it was observed with suspicion 
 thai; Miss Cameron appeared nowhere; that she seemed 
 
ALICE; Oii, THE MYSTKRIES. 
 
 527 
 
 seemTha^Ladt V "^^ *° '^'^^ expressions, "t would 
 seem that Lady \argrave was not apprised oi the an- 
 Foach:ng event; that, considering' Miss Cam ronl 
 recent engagement to Mr. Maltravers, sudden y (and 
 
 llZllT, LoTv — -^•^%) broken off/oite' 
 arnval of Lord Vargrave; considering her extreme 
 youth her brilliant fortune; and. Madame de VeTa 
 dour dehcately hinted, considering al.o Lord Vargrave's 
 eh acter for unscrupulous determination in the f u h r- 
 
 all th 7 °'''^^V'l 7'-^^ ^- -- bent.-considerxng 
 mL ' T '^^ ^ ^"^''^d^"'' had ventured to address 
 
 po s bihty of design or deceit. Her best apology for 
 her intrusion must be, her deep interest in Miss Car^ 
 eron, and her long friendship for one to wl ^ m"s 
 Cameron had been so lateJy betrothed. If Lady Va - 
 graj^were aware of the new engagement, and hacf sa^- 
 tioned ,t, of course her intrusion was unseasonable and 
 super uous, but if ascribed to its real motive, luM 
 not be the Jess forgiven. 
 
 It was easy for Maltravera to see in this letter how 
 
 generous and zealous had been that friendship for him- 
 
 elf which could have induced the woman of the worTd 
 
 not"" r h'r "•''r" ^ ^^■^'- ''^' ^' ^^^^ ^e thoS 
 
 not as he humed over the lines, and shuddered at 
 JliVelyn's urgent danger. 
 
 "This intelligence," said Aubrey, "must be, indeed 
 a surprise to Lady Vargrave. For we have not heard a' 
 word from Evelyn or Lord Vargrave to announ e such 
 mamage; and she (and myself, till this day) belie'd 
 
 that t le engagement between Evelyn and Mr I 
 
 mean, said Aubrey, with confusion.-" I nie;n yoir- 
 
f 
 
 11 
 
 528 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 self, was still in force. Lord Vargrave's villany is 
 apparent; we mus' act immediately. What is to be 
 done ? " 
 
 " I will return to Paris to-morrow; I will defeat his 
 machinations, — expose liis falsehood!" 
 
 "You may need a proxy for Lady Vargravo, an au- 
 thority for Evelyn, — one whom Lord Vargrave knows 
 to possess the secret of her birth, her rights; I will go 
 with you. We must speak to Lady Vargrave ! " 
 
 Maltravers turned sharply round. " And Alice knows 
 not who I am: that I — I am, or was, a few weeks ago, 
 the suitor of another ; and tJiat other the child she has 
 reared a^ her own! Unhappy Alice! in the very hour 
 of her joy at my return, is she to writhe beneath this 
 new affliction ? " 
 
 " Shall I break it to her? " said Aubrey, pityingly. 
 
 "No, no; these lips must inflict the last wrong! " 
 
 Maltravers walked away, and the curate saw him no 
 more till night. 
 
 In the interval, and late in the evening, Maltravers 
 rejoined Alice. 
 
 The fire burned clear on the i "?rth ; the curtains were 
 drawn; the pleasant but simpie Ciawing-room of the 
 cottage smiled its welcome as Maltravers entered, and 
 Alice sprang up to greet him. It was as if the old days 
 of the music-lesson and the meerschaum had come back. 
 
 "This is yours," said Alice, tenderly, as she looked 
 round the apartment. " Now — now I know what a 
 blessed thing riches are! Ah, you are looking on tliat 
 picture : it is of her who supplied your daughter's place ; 
 she is so beautiful, so good, you will love her as a 
 daughter. Oh, that letter, that — that letter! I forgot 
 it till now; it is at the vicarage. I must go there im- 
 mediately, and you will come too; you will advise us." 
 
all defeat his 
 
 pgravo, an au- 
 
 ig, Maltravers 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 509 
 
 "Alice, T have read the letter, _ I know all. Alice 
 - down and hear ,ne ; it is you who have to learn fro 
 n.e._ In our young .lays I was accustomed to tell you 
 7:r "f '"' "^''\^.^'^ these-stories of love Z 
 '^3 "earsay. I have one now for your ear, truer an.l 
 a er than they were. Two children, for' they w 
 Idren in'T' 7 ''^^'f " "^ ^^norance of the world, 
 
 rre't^a eth""" '^^"""^ '^ ^^^^^e vicissitudes 
 
 s^xes hPv f T" T^ '^'- ^^^^'y ''''•' °^ different 
 sexes, they loved and they erred. But the ..-ror was 
 solely with the boy; for what was innocence in her wa 
 but passion in him. He loved her dearly but at tha 
 age her qualities were half developed. He knew he 
 beautiful simple, tender; but he knew not aT «ie 
 virtue the faith, and the nobleness that Heav n had 
 planted in her soul. Thev narfprl • fl , ^'^^ 
 
 each o«.„'3 fate. He s'^./wtx Z,,'";:,"? 
 vam; and sorrow and remorse long oo„s„n,ej hirand 
 W memory threw a shadow over^his e« e„ee 'But 
 again -for his love had not the exalted hohness of he^ 
 
 AUce yon kn w to who^^t^ tli: 'rS "l; ,lt 
 yet. I have hearf from the old man yonder « a '„" 
 
 ^rthat^atte "Lr T' ' "™'- '' "»» 
 
 to ^^. ii • y y "ves, — then, as now, a friend 
 
 anov ir r' '""'■ ^ Srant that at one time my 
 fancy dlured me to her. but my heart was still true lo 
 
 '•■ Bless you for those words! " murmured Alice- and 
 she crept more closely to him. ' 
 
 34 
 
VI 
 
 #' 
 
 i f 1 11 
 
 530 
 
 ALICE; OR, THI'; MYSTKKIKS. 
 
 He went on. " Circumstance^, which ft K.nie calmee 
 occasion you shall he<ar, again nearly court il>'(l my fate 
 by marriage to another. I had tlien seen you at ;i dis- 
 tance, unseen by you, — seen you inparently KUiToimded 
 by respectability and ojmlence; and I blessed Heaven 
 that your lot, ,?,( least, was not that of penury and want." 
 (Here Maitio v^rs rslated wher.? he liad caught that brief 
 glimpse of Alice ,^~ .how he Lad sought for her again 
 and again in vaia. > " 1,'rom that hour," he continued, 
 "seeing you in cir:;)nstanets of which I could not have 
 dared to dreara, 1 felt move reconciled to the past; yet 
 when on the verge of marriage with another, — beauti- 
 ful, gifted, generous as she was, — a thought, a memory 
 half acknowledged, dimly traced, chained back my sen- 
 timents; and admiration, esteem, and gratitude were 
 
 not love! Death — a death melancholy and tragic 
 
 forbade this imion ; and I went forth in the world, a 
 pilgrim and a wanderer. Years rolled aAvay, and I 
 thought I had conquered the desire for love, — a desire 
 that had haunted me since I lost thee. But, suddenly 
 and recently, a being, beautiful as yourself, — sweet, 
 guileless, and young as you were when we met, — woke 
 in me a new and a strange sentiment. I will not con- 
 ceal it from you: Alice, at last I loved another! Yet 
 singular as it may seem to you, it was a certain resem- 
 blance to yourself, not in feature , but in the tones of 
 the voice, the nameless grace of gesture and manner, 
 the very music of your once happy laugh, those traits 
 of resemblance which I can now account for, and which 
 children catch not from their parents only, but from 
 those they most see, and loving most, most imitate in 
 their tender years, — all these, I say, made perhaps a 
 chief attraction that ar.w me towards (Alice, a;, 'ok 
 1 See " Ernest • . ravers," Book v., p. 299. 
 
away, and I 
 ove, — a desire 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 531 
 
 prepared for it?) drew me towards Evelyn Cameron 
 
 ttt mTiI " "^"'\ ^'""^*^^' ^^ '"^ true'nam rHm 
 that Maltravers to whom the hand of Evelyn was a few 
 weeks ago betrothed." ^ ^ ^®^ 
 
 He paused, and ventured to look up at Alice; she was 
 exceedingly pale, and her hands were tightl^ ch.^ 
 
 t 1 u J r 1 ^y ^"^ ^rt. Jie duplicitv thp 
 
 falsehood o Lord Vargrave. I was taught in a sudden 
 hour to be heve that Evelyn was our daughter S 
 you recoiled from the prospect of beholding'onT; m ro 
 
 aLT)Z "'r '"^"^ ""^^"^^- I "-d -t tell yoT 
 Alice, of the horror that succeeded to love. I pass ov"; 
 
 red^e f'; t>. ."'^f "r """ *^" ^^^-'-^'l ^^at so 
 racked me for the time ! I regret no more the rupture 
 
 of my bond with Evelyn; I regret nothing that bdZ 
 
 m with t r '^.""t^l^^' '' '''' ''^'' -J -^-i"^ 
 me with thy sublime faith and ineffable love. Here 
 
 then, _ here, beneath your own roof. - liore he. at once 
 
 your earliest friend and foe. kneels to you for ^arZ 
 
 aiid for h^,e! He woos you as his wife,'- his coC- 
 
 lon to the grave! Forget all his errors, and be to 
 
 him^.^under a holier name, all that you ^vere to him 
 
 .he'folrV '^r.f^'Y' '''''''' y°"^^^he whom 
 he love. ? I see it all - all ! " Alice rose ; and before 
 
 &he felt, she had vanished from the room 
 
 return, sbo came not. At last he wrote a hurried note 
 
]] ll. 
 
 M' 
 
 ■HhM 
 
 •" 
 
 ^ 
 
 f 
 
 'It 
 
 
 I 
 
 ' 
 
 
 \ 
 
 ' 1 
 
 ! 
 
 ■: 
 
 ' 
 
 '] 
 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 II 
 
 '' 
 
 ! 
 
 i 
 
 ill 
 
 
 532 
 
 ALICE ; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 imploring her to join him again, to relieve his suspense, 
 to believe his sincerity, to accept his vows. He sent it 
 to her own room, to which she had hastened to bury her 
 emotions. In a few minutes there came to him this 
 answer written in pencil, blotted with tears :^ 
 
 " I thank you. I understand your heart; but forgive me, — 
 I cannot see you yet. She is so beautiful and good; she is 
 worthy of you. I shall soon be reconciled. God bless you, — 
 bless you both ! " 
 
 The door of the vicarage was opened abruptly; and 
 Maltravers entered with a hasty but heavy tread. 
 
 " Go t'l her — go to that angel — go , I beseech you ! 
 Tell her that she wrongs me if she thinks I can ever 
 wed another, ever have an object in life but to atone to 
 — to merit her. Go ; plead for me. " 
 
 Aubrey , who soon gathered from Maltravers what had 
 passed, departed to the cottage; it was near midnight 
 before he returned. Maltravers met him in the church- 
 yard beside the yew-tree. " Well, well; what mes- 
 sage do you bring ? " 
 
 " She wishes that we should both set off for Paris 
 to-morrow. Not a day is to be lost, — we must save 
 Evelyn from this snare." 
 
 " Evelyn! Yes, Evelyn shall be saved; but the rest, 
 the rest ! Why do you turn aAvay ? " 
 
 " 'You are not the poor artist, the wandering adven- 
 turer; you are the high-born, the wealthy, the renowned 
 Maltravers : Alice has nothing to confer on you. You 
 have won the love of Evelyn; Alice cannot doom the 
 child confided to her care to hopeless affection. You 
 love Evelyn ; Alice cannot compare herself to the young 
 and educated and beautiful creature, whose love is a 
 priceless treasure. Alice prays you not to grieve for 
 
ve his suspense, 
 \vs. He sent it 
 ned to bury her 
 me to him this 
 tears : — 
 
 but forgive me, — 
 and good ; she is 
 God bless you, — 
 
 I abruptly; and 
 3avy tread. 
 
 I beseech you! 
 inks I can ever 
 
 but to atone to 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 533 
 
 >vi.sJ„m.i" ''"''"«' ™ '™''' W-an all our 
 
 village. ^ ' ^^^^^^ towards the 
 
 ravers what had 
 ; near midnight 
 I in the church- 
 all; what mes- 
 
 3t off for Paris 
 -we must save 
 
 d; but the rest, 
 
 mdering adven- 
 y, the renowned 
 r on you. You 
 mnot doom the 
 affection. You 
 df to the young 
 vhose love is a 
 it to grieve for 
 
 i-*L>^ 
 
' *t 
 
 
 ' 
 
 534 
 
 ALICE ; OH, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 \h 
 
 \ii »" I 
 
 i 1 
 
 '•' i 
 
 ilil: 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Think you I can a resolution fetch 
 From Howery tenderness ? 
 
 Measure for Measure. 
 
 They were on the road to Dover. Maltravers leaned 
 back in the corner of the carriage with his hat over hia 
 brows, though the morning was yet too dark for the 
 curate to perceive more tlian the outline of his features. 
 Milestone after milestone glided by the wheels, and 
 neither of the travellers broke the silence. It was a 
 cold, raw morning; and the mists rose sullenly from the 
 dank hedges and comfortless fieMa. 
 
 Stern and self-accusing was ilie scrutiny of Mnltravers 
 into the recesses of his conscience, and the blotted pages 
 of the past. That .!o and i olitary other, mourning 
 over the grave of lier — of his own — child, rose again 
 before his eyes, and seemed silently to ask him for an 
 account of the heart h" iiad made barren, and of the 
 youth to which his love had brought tjie joylessness of 
 age. With the image of Alice, afar, alon«^ — whether 
 in her wanderings, a beggar and an ouii ^t, or in that 
 hollow prosperity, in which the ■ ' ease of the frame 
 allowed more leisure to the pinin i t' heart, — with 
 that image, pure, sorrowing, and lithiu from first to 
 last, he compared his own wild and wasted youth, his 
 resort to fancy and to passion for excitement. He con- 
 trasted with her patient resignation his own arrogant 
 rebellion against the trials, the bitterness of which his 
 
ES. 
 
 ;ch 
 
 'easure/or Meaiure, 
 
 [altravers leaned 
 his hat over his 
 00 dark for the 
 of his features, 
 he wheels, and 
 mce. It was a 
 iillenly from the 
 
 ly of Mai tra vers 
 he blotted pages 
 Dther, mourning 
 hi Id, rose again 
 ask him for an 
 Ten, and of the 
 le joylessness of 
 lono . — whether 
 c.tst, Of in that 
 86 of the frame 
 heart, — with 
 11 from first to 
 isted youth, his 
 cent. He con- 
 s own arrogant 
 iss of which his 
 
 ALICE; OR. THE MYSTERIES. 535 
 
 his laur lite ,m^ h f '., , '"'I'«'"='« "idolonce of 
 
 once so rudely hurlnl from ., ™''S^; ^is mind, 
 from which it'had so Ic^^riootl dZ ' ' ''''''^' 
 
 -i<l/' I am wi.er and better than vou". "'^ '"'" '""^ 
 acutely sen lii^n. f„ •, "'^^'^na" you, became even too 
 
 for vlrt"; • e had"v"''r"?^^ ^"^^ *^^* ^--« 
 itself more d „p Hv , ^^^^'l^^ply entertained, made 
 
 and the^s:;::!":f if,:-;:,;:^ ^^ '^^^' ^^^^^^ *^^ ^-^ 
 
 Alice her., h d a Ldt rJr' f^' '''' ''^-'■' 
 mother! Eve! n so mtn , ^ "''^ ^'' "'"^'^ ''^^^ 
 
 in thought, humant" re L^itlTl^V^'^f; ^^^'^ 
 stricken, forbade 1. ^ elTin, her /"f '""''" 
 
 her from the grasp of \.v^'!T1 " ^''"'^' ^' '""^^'^ 
 to win her! Iut did M U ' T "^ain, and again 
 
 i^i. i->ut did Maltravers welcome <lir1 h^ 
 brace, that thought? Let ii<. ,ln 1 • ,"^^' '"^ be em- 
 
 subdued. Was he to »v,l.. i^ *^ tnals — never could be 
 he to .av '"n I 1 ^^^ nobleness a curse ? Was 
 ne to say, Tliou hast passed awav in ti.„ J 
 
 and I leave thoe orror f !v ?^ thy generation, 
 
 *o„ .a. ci*!^;: 7..r'r:;„':a •L"''™ 
 
 , wicn wnat just repugnance, would he have 
 
536 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 
 regarded in the betrayer of his wife (even though wife 
 but in name) the suitor to his cliild! 
 
 These thoughts came in fast and fearful force upon 
 Maltravers, and served to strengthen his honor and his 
 conscience. He felt that though, in law, there was no 
 shadow of connection between Evelyn and himself, yet 
 his tie with Alice had been of a nature that ought to 
 separate him from one who had regarded AUcg as a 
 mother. The load of horror, the agony of shame, were 
 indeed gone; but still a voice whispered as before, 
 " Evelyn is lost to thee forever! " But so shaken had 
 already been her image in the late storms and convul- 
 sion of his soul , that this thought was preferable to the 
 thought of sacrificing Alice. If that were all — but 
 Evelyn might still love him ; and justice to Alice might 
 be misery to her. He started from his reverie with a 
 vehement gesture, and groaned audibly. 
 
 The curate turned to address to him some words of 
 inquiry and surprise; but the words were unheard, and 
 he perceived, by the advancing daylight, that the coun- 
 tenance of Maltravers was that of a man utterly rapt and 
 absorbed by some mastering and irresistible thought. 
 Wisely, therefore, he left his companion in peace, and 
 returned to his own anxious and engrossing meditations. 
 The travellers did not rest till they arrived at Dove.. 
 The vessel started early the following morning, and 
 Aubrey, who was much fatigued, retired to rest. Mal- 
 travers glanced at the clock upon the mantel-piece; it 
 was the hour of nine. For him there was no hope of 
 sleep; and the prospect of the slow night was that of 
 dreary suspense and torturing self-commune. 
 
 As he turned restlessly in his seat, the waiter entered 
 to say that there was a gentleman who had caught a 
 glimpse of him below on his arrival, and who ^ is anx- 
 
even though wife 
 
 ALICE ; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 637 
 
 >ous tn speak with hi,,,. H,.f„„,, ,, .. 
 
 «wer, the ge„thM„an Iu„,so If ^^"l^'^'T '""'"^ ""' 
 recognized Loganl. '''''^' '""' Maltravers 
 
 "I beg your par(I(,n," said tl.n Un • 
 great agitation, "but I vas nlf ' "' '^ ^""^ "^ 
 
 - few mo„,ents I have hstt "'T''' '° -^"^ ^'^^ f- 
 Places alike hatef,,! 7:,.^:^' r;r,1J",;-«'-l.-'^lI 
 
 - an announcement - which vT • 1'"!'"" ~ "" 
 greatest -I know not w t7 MV'""'""'" "''^ ^''« 
 true? Read this para.ranh'.rr ''^-'^"^ '« ^' 
 Courier " before MalSt! ''''^"' P^''^^^' " ^^^ 
 
 The passage was as follows; — 
 
 " Were „ot^„„ the lover It"::'' T," ?" P'""«™P''- 
 -of Mi»s Cameron, Speak' tT'' ''■,"'" '"'PP>' I"™' 
 -that it was for y„u X, a '"°' ' ™P'°'« f™' 
 
 noMoed all my hope, If .'.ni '""""• """ I ■■''■ 
 dered the dream ofwin ,inJ ' ."'"""'"■ ""'' ™™- 
 only woman I ever Zed r "'° ■""' ""'' ''""d of the 
 
 A deep shade fell over tl,« r i 
 He gazed earnestly and Tonl T "' MaltraveB. 
 
 t^^nance of Legardf and sdd* T" "'° '"'*'»« """n- 
 
 "Vou. too.'lov d her fhef^/ "'""•- 
 "ever guessed if or ilnL T "'""" '"""' ",- 
 
 a moment; and _ » "" ^ '"'P'*'', it „.s but for 
 
 « "rwltnettXtJ'tlf !• , rf?""^' " «»™ 
 --"^e_.velynCre:!Lr1,ri^';--^ 
 
1 i, 
 
 538 
 
 ALICK; OH, TIIK MYSTKHIES. 
 
 a ■ 
 
 isiM'; 
 
 to me your affection, your hopes, I felt all that I 
 owed you; I felt t!:at I never ought to become your 
 rival. I left I'aris abruptly. What I have suffered I 
 will not say ; but it was some comfort to think that I 
 had acted as became one Avho owed you a debt never 
 to be cancelled nor repaid. I travelled from place to 
 place, each equally hateful and wearisome; at last, I 
 scarce know why, I returned to England. I have 
 arrived this day; and now — but tell me, is it true?" 
 
 "I believe it true," said Maltravers, in a hollow 
 voice, " that Evelyn is at this moment engaged to Lord 
 Vargrave. I believe it equally true that that engage- 
 ment, founded upon false impressions, never will be 
 fulfilled. With that hope and that belief, I am on my 
 road to Paris." 
 
 " And she will be yours still? " said Legard, turning 
 away his face. "Well, that I can bear; may you be 
 happy, sir! " 
 
 "Stay, Legard," said Maltravers, in a voice of great 
 feeling. " Let us understand each other better : you 
 have renounced your passion to your sense of honor." 
 (Maltravers paused thoughtfully.) " It was noble in 
 you; it was more than just to me; I thank you and 
 respect you. But, Legard, was there aught in the 
 manner, the bearing, of Evelyn Cameron, that could 
 lead you to suppose that she would have returned your 
 affection? True, had we started on equal terms, I am 
 not vain enough to be blind to your advantages of youth 
 and person; but I believed that the affections of Evelyn 
 were already mine before we met at Paris. " 
 
 " It might be so," said Legard, gloomily; " nor is it 
 for me to say that a heart so pure and generous as 
 Evelyn's could deceive yourself or me. Yet I had 
 fancied, — I had hoped, — while you stood aloof, that 
 
ALICE; OR, THK MYSTEH!E« 53,) 
 
 pagination,.,,.,, ^J':^^ C"Vrff "=' 
 Uiat I sliouU win, _ that T >„. '"'' '">P<!<1 
 
 "ffoetion. But le tlii, „ 7;"n"'"8 n,y ,vay to her 
 -o„l,, Malt., "';,'„ ;°P ' « -y«t f„,ev„, 
 F"ud .nan, and vou p M, 1^ '' '"• ^™ »« " 
 ■"», in spit's of „; ,S r t '"■"",""' '"" "'""(.' 
 than you ha™ b.™" twl thft' T" 'iT '» "« 
 «™rs and my folHe;, I an . '; ' ^'V '»™ -^ 
 quests over myself. And mo.f • , *"" ""^- 
 
 «.at Evelyn's Ive may ,1 rl' hlf { '° ' ""^ "'•* 
 • have been to ne ' » ''^ Messing it would 
 
 .^e;«ys..e,irhet:^;L";:d"^::,-»«"'»i" 
 
 spre ;;f •f,Le™'tf;:'fT"' °"' " '»'"' «"* »-- 
 I 'i-j . ..e, you rebuke me iii«flir t i , 
 
 7 ault, aud I ask you to foS"^' p/ "'"^"^.'^^g^ 
 
 whatever happens, I slull Iml Mf I "' ^^'^ht, 
 
 mitted to your friend jlf .?• '''""'' '« ^« ^d- 
 
 Legard never shaH S L'me th^ off" "'t*' ^^^^^« 
 and liarshness » '^ ''^''"'^'^^ ^f arrogance 
 
 n.atr jrS^tt'rttl IT "T "™'^- ^"' 
 tn,.:t himself to speak "' "'"^ '"= '™W -"t 
 
 loved you, had \ny pf*„""t "' *""'^'.' """'-» ^a™ 
 ■And you think -iL , "'""^ y<"" "»■■•» 
 
 .vo.. cLd ba^r ' ,;~,'2'"" "«■.■ """■■ >rd,_that 
 
 fair. 
 
 so young, so in- 
 
w 
 
 
 i 
 
 540 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 experienced and susceptible, so surrounded by a thousand 
 temptations, would need in a guardian and protector? " 
 
 "Oh, do not judge of me by what I have been! I 
 feel that Evelyn could have reformed errors worse than 
 mine ; that her love would have elevated dispositions yet 
 more light and commonplace. You do not know what 
 miracles love works! But now what is there left for 
 me ? What matters it how frivolous and poor the occu- 
 pations which can distract my thoughts and bring me 
 forgetfulness ? Forgive me; I have no right to obtrude 
 all this egotism on you." 
 
 "Do not despond, Legard," said Maltravers, kindly; 
 " there may be better fortunes in store for you than you 
 yet anticipate. I cannot say more now; but will you 
 remain at Dover a few day.-* longer? Within a week 
 you shall hear from me. I will not raise hopes that it 
 may not be mine to realize. But if it be as you think 
 it was — why — little, indeed, would rest with me. 
 Nay, look not on me so wistfully," added Maltravers, 
 with a mournful smile ; " and let the subject close for 
 the present. You will stay at Dover ? " 
 
 "I will; but—" 
 
 " No buts, Legard; it is so settled." 
 
BS. 
 
 ed by a thousand 
 nd protector 1 " 
 [ have been! I 
 rrors worse than 
 dispositions yet 
 not know what 
 is there left for 
 I poor the occu- 
 s and bring me 
 right to obtrude 
 
 travers, kindly; 
 or you than you 
 r ; but will you 
 Within a week 
 ise hopes that it 
 be as you think 
 rest with me. 
 ded Maltravers, 
 ubject close for 
 
 BOOK XL 
 
 •O &,epo>-nos ,hpy,rhs »*^v/c5r._M. Antonin. lib. ix. 
 Man is born to be a doer of good. 
 

 11 
 
 1 1 
 
 
 |; ^ 
 
 
 
 
 1:' • ' 'I 
 
 ; 
 
BOOK XL 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Spenser. 
 It is now time to return to Lo-.^ v 
 «angume J.ones were realized alr.v'^''"'- ^'' "^''^ 
 per. The l>and of Ev h n Can.l '^' ?'"^'^ ^'^ P^°- 
 the wedding-day wa;Sed^Tle:r£''^' \'^"^^ 
 was to confer uoon thp r,„- i '"' '"^ '^^^^ slie 
 
 bition. From IVfr r> T ^^ ""'^^"^ ^^ his am- 
 
 -hich wereTo ttsffrT hi t ^r .^'^ ^ ^"^^^^ 
 ^lonsoftheheadofthehouseofMnlt P'''^'- 
 
 completed; and on lus wedZ d'v f'' ?'' T^"'' "^^^'^^ 
 to announce that the U^tS I T ^''^"^ '" ^*^ ^^e 
 princely mansion of Lir^Cou I r ''' T' ''' ^^^^ 
 "othing could be finaHy setuTh-n ^ ^'^^''''' *^^^"Sh 
 
 from Lord Saxineham Lf r ^'' ''*^™' betters 
 ►Jrt,\iugnam assureu him fho* „ii 
 
 '^'ous.-the court and the heads of fl 1 / '""' '"'^ '' 
 growing more alienated Z T ^"stocracy daily 
 
 hap.^, l.k. most needy men oveJ-f ti^ ^ ','^''"'^' P^" 
 should derive from Si^' , *^' advantages he 
 
 conciliate in. hi^^ , ^^^ ^ jf «- he should 
 
 we-althy peer. He w«. n 7 ^'^ Proprietor and 
 
 !>- He was not insensible to the silent an- 
 
544 
 
 ALICE; OR, THIO MYSTEIUES. 
 
 'v 
 
 lll 
 
 *'■ '^^ 
 
 4'iHH 
 
 1 , ; .■ 1 
 
 
 i;^ 1 
 
 iaBJH 
 
 K . ' $^ 
 
 ;■■ 
 
 1'^^^ 1 
 
 guish that Evelyn seemed to endure, nor to the bitter 
 gloom that hung on tlie brow of Lady Doltimore. But 
 these were clouds that foretold no storm, — light shadows 
 that obscured not the serenity of the favoring sky. ll«i 
 continued to seem unconscious to either, — to take the 
 coming event as a matter of course; and to Evelyn he 
 evinced so gentle, unfamiliar, respectful, and delicate 
 an attachment that he left no opening either for confi- 
 dence or complaint. Poor Evelyn! her gayety, her 
 enchanting levity, her sweet and infantine playfulness 
 of manner, were indeed vanished. Pale, wan, passive, 
 and smileless, she was the ghost of her former self! 
 But days rolled on, and the evil one drew near; she 
 recoiled, but she never dreamed of resisting. How 
 many equal victims of her age and sex does the altar 
 witness ! 
 
 One day, at early noon, Lord Vargrave took his way 
 to Evelyn's. He had been to pay a political visit in the 
 Faubourg St. Germain ; and he was now slowly crossing 
 the more quiet and solitary part of the gardens of the 
 Tuileries, — his hands clasped behind him after his old, 
 unaltered habit, and his eyes downcast, — when suddenly 
 a man, who was seated alone beneath one of the trees, 
 and who had for some moments watched his steps with 
 an anxious and wild aspect, rose and approached him. 
 Lord Vargrave was not conscious of the intrusion 
 till the man laid his hand on Vargrave's arm, and ex- 
 claimed, — 
 
 "It is he! it is! Lumley Ferrers, we meet again! " 
 
 Lord Vargrave started and changed color as he gazed 
 on the intruder. 
 
 " Ferrer"," continued Cesarini (for it was he), and he 
 woun.'l his arm firmly into Lord Vargrave's as he spoke, 
 " you have not changed : your step is light, your cheek 
 
^LICK; OR, TEI,.: MVSTERIKS. 545 
 
 hoalthful; and vet T 
 
 Oh, I have sufferrf ^t'Zu" '""""'^ """S"'^" -"e. 
 is Urn! Wlwhl • • ^'''°'''™P''''«J' Why 
 
 "■% have you g„„:i„X " '"""'^ "*"; ''-d 
 Castacoio wa, in „, ^°t™» ■'' ^t just! » 
 
 ".™w..that™h'":L:i";:°:^;"'-'^. ^u. 
 
 mal voice which showed that , f ?. ^"*°' """"'■ 
 the avalanche. Lord vl „ Inl , ""«"" '""•^°'™ 
 ^oae were near; but heTn^i, !, 1, ""'""-^'^ «"""'■ 
 "f the garden were tl.rL ,° l" nd tt "rr''" ''"'° 
 «»v many forms moving to L if ' 2'° '""»' ''» 
 the sound of his voice could l,"' ^^ *'" "»' 
 i"*„t,a„<,hisassu.,r:tt ^dThi:™'""" '" °" 
 
 «ned'^»';::,'irg':f:v:rm!';'or"r-«'^- - >- ^■''=>'- 
 
 i",; do not thin, .? ri:; ,;:;,::';'';;;: i- - ^°" --^ 
 
 past fX";"er '''Tn'd n '"^T^' «'"»'"^- " ">» 
 in daAnessLd in chat^ ^t^l, h"*';', "'" """-S"' 
 •"d a light has Uoken liZe to ,1 \ "" ""'"•''' 
 told me I was mad! L„mlev F " ,°'"' "'''™ ""^ 
 
 sake that you led me devi ' " ™ ""' '■" "V 
 
 heli! Yo^u had'sl'e": LTo^^rV^t^-'-^'^'' 
 
 »inned for ,„, slkf, "titZZ S;"""'^ .T™ 
 lips can utter truth ' " ^' ~ *^ ^hose 
 
 ^en;'^:^:tLr t::^ J^^' ^" ^^l-dest ae- 
 believe me, mv onTvn J .'"''' ""^^^ ^^« ^een ; 
 bined, it may be wilh^t 7"l ^'"' ^'^P^^'^^^^' «om- 
 
 .i^::- 3"-- -^rvSt;. arm 
 
 -"ere;x"^hr-;:tr:^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 35 
 
ii ; \ 
 
 I, 
 
 546 
 
 ALICE; 01!, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 "You, too, loved Florence; you, too, sought her hand, 
 — you were my real rival ! " 
 
 "Hush! my friend, hush!" said Vargrave, seeking 
 to shake off the gripe of the maniac, and becoming seri- 
 ously alarmed ; " we are approaching the crowded part of 
 the gardens ; we shall be observed. " 
 
 " And why are men made my foes ? Why is my own 
 sister become my persecutor? Why sliould she give me 
 up to the torturer and the dungeon ? Why are serpents 
 and fiends my comrades ? Why is there fire in my brain 
 and heart; and why do you go free, and enjoy liberty 
 and life? Observed! what care you for observation? 
 All men search for me ! " 
 
 " Then why so openly expoee yourself to their notice ? 
 Why — " 
 
 " Hear me ! " interrupted Cesarini. " When I escaped 
 from the horrible prison into which I was plunged; 
 when I scented the fresh air, and bounded over the grass; 
 when T. was again free in limbs and spirit, — a sudden 
 strain of music from a village came on my ear, and I 
 stopped short, and couched down, and held my breath 
 to listen. It ceased; and I thought I had been with 
 Florence, and I wept bitterly! When I recovered, 
 memory came back to me distinct and clear; and I 
 heard a voice say to me, * Avenge her and thyself! ' 
 From that hour the voice has been heard again, morning 
 and night ! Lumley Ferrers, I hear it now ! It speaks 
 to my heart; it warms my blood; it nerves my hand! 
 On whom should vengeance fall ? Speak to me ! " 
 
 Lumley strode rapidly on : they were now witliout the 
 grove; a gay throng was before them. "All is safe," 
 thought the Englishman. He turned abruptly and 
 haughtily on Cesarini, and waved his hand. " Begone, 
 madman! " said he, in a loud and stern voice, — "be- 
 
f to their notice ? 
 
 AI-ICK; on, ,„B MVSTBItreg. 547 
 
 got,' I ]:;,r "° "'"°' °' ' S-e you into „„,t„d,. Be- 
 
 ■■»«inl.isfullt„rv; h.l,n2;i V """''""" ™ 
 
 with a toroo for „-Wd, Ihtn '■"''™ "^ "" S"-"""'' 
 
 vot, if two '„,^ : 'ted':;:" 'r'T r" '""- "■"' 
 
 to his a8«i,t«nn„ ''"T™ •='<""> 'y. haJ not hastened 
 breast, 2 rion«T„rr "'""'^ ""^""'^ °" "is 
 
 'he throat of his • ISn^d^S ^ l^tri-fi'-r 
 he glared fierr-plv «., u- "^ "'^ hold, 
 
 had with some effort ri^PnT T ^ 'i^g^ave, who 
 
 out. « I shalT Ifrtl^et- ^^^^^^^^ ': '''^'^^^ 
 
 and disappeared. ^ ' ^''^ ^^^'^^^^ ^^e trees 
 
 n voice, — " be- 
 

 r- 
 
 048 
 
 ALICE, OIJ, TlIK MYSTERIES, 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Ah ! who is uigli ? — Come to me, friend or foe ! 
 My parks, my walks, my manors that I liad — 
 Ev'n now forsake me. 
 
 Henri/ VI., Part III. 
 
 Lord Vargravk, bold as he was by nature, in vain 
 endeavored to banish from his mind the gloomy impres- 
 sion which the startling interview with ^'esarini had 
 bequeathed. T>i<! face, the voice, of the maniac 
 haunted him, &•■•• H.<f. iViiape of the warning wraith haunts 
 the mountau. •-•', He returned at once to his hotel, 
 unable for some Iwisirs to collect himself sufficiently to 
 pay his customary visit to Miss Cameron. Inly resolv- 
 ing not to hazard a second meeting with the Italian 
 during the rest of his sojourn in Paris, by venturing in 
 the streets on foot, he ordered his carriage towards even- 
 ing, dined at the Cafe de Paris, and then re-entered 
 his carriage to proceed to Lady Doltimore's house. 
 
 "I beg your pardon, my lord," said his servant, as 
 he closed the carriage-door; "but I forgot to say that, 
 a short time after you returned this morning, a sttange 
 gentleman asked at the porter's lodge if Mr. Ferrers 
 was not staying at the hotel. The porter said there 
 was no Mr. Ferrers; but the gentleman insisted upon 
 it that he had seen Mr. Ferrers enter. I was in the 
 lodge at the moment, ray lord, and I explained — " 
 
 " That Mr. Ferrers and Lord Vargrave are one and the 
 same ? What sort of looking person ? " 
 
 "Thin and dark, my lord, — evidently a foreigner. 
 When I said that you were now Lord Vargrave, he 
 
Jenry VI., Part III. 
 
 ALICK ; OH, THK MYfeTKItlKS. 549 
 
 away." ^ ^' '"'^ *^«^ ^^ l«"ghed and walked 
 " Did he not ask to see me ? " 
 
 «aw at once tl.at' C sa L hJ "" f ', ^" *^™^*- ^^^ 
 the next morning t;Xcttff/^''"' he resolved 
 the police If w^ ,^\ ^"« hotel, and to apply to 
 
 hadLt^ed th :;:^^^^^^^^^^^^^ keen'^aL: 
 
 On arriving arr.clv D u "f '"^^ ^"^^^^^^^ "^'^"•' 
 alone in the 3ratiS,n Vr"'" ^" '^""^ ^--^'n^ 
 by no n.eans cle "ed.' '' ^^" ^ ^^^^^"-^^'^^ that he 
 
 "Lord Vargrave," sdd Caroline, coldlv " T , • v, j 
 short conversation with you and fin j^' J'^"'^ * 
 
 come in the mornin. I sent von ?^ ^''" ^'^ ^^* 
 
 Did you receive it? '° ^°" ' "°^' "" ^°"^ ago. 
 
 is I'^w iine'"" '"" '""^ ^^"^^ ^-- -^ o'clock. --it 
 
 pr2fiT2-llTuS "^f f"^^^"^' -*h ^ com- 
 tremble to tel " u h^ fearn u""^ ^"^ P^^«' "^ 
 looked at me IZ2\l ^""^^'"^^'^ «"^^Pects. He 
 
 -m unhappT. m^a£; ts rS'oft d f ' ' ^^^ 
 distresses you ! '" marriage of Lord Vargrave 's 
 
 •Do no. reproach „,e, n.a„!- said Lady Dolti„„„. 
 
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 550 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 with great vehemence. " From you at least I have a 
 right to pity, to forbearance, to succor. I will not 
 hear 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 posi- 
 tion, 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 explain, and which it is yet easier for a woman 
 and a great lady " (here Lumley sneered) " to acquire 1 " 
 "I know not; it has been put into his head Paris 
 is so full of slander. But, Vargrave, Lumley, I tremble 
 — I shudder with terror — if ever Doltimore should 
 discover — " 
 
 "Pooh, pooh! Our conduct at Paris has been most 
 guarded, most discreet. Doltimore is self-conceit per- 
 sonified; and self-conceit is horn-eyed. I am about 
 to leave Paris, — about to marry, from under your own 
 roof: a little prudence, a little self-control, a smiling 
 face, when you wish us happiness, and so forth, and all 
 is safe. Tush! Think of it no more. Fate has cut and 
 shuffled the cards for you; the game is yours, unless 
 you revoke. Pardon my metaphor; it is a favorite 
 one, — I have worn it threadbare; but human life is so 
 like a rubber at whist. Where is Evelyn ? " 
 
 " In her own room. Have you no pity for her ? " 
 " She will be very happy when she is Lady Vargrave; 
 and for the rest, I shall neither be a stern nor a jealous 
 husband. She might not have given the same character 
 to the magnificent Maltravers." 
 
AUCH ; OR, THE MVSTEKJEs. 551 
 
 ments, to dra,v Ih^ J ^ salutation, and compli- 
 
 to which .h apLald™ f T""""" <" *e cri'l^ 
 
 wWch dru^ed rittot/'l^dTn'^r tf'f '"'" 
 of their doom so thpr. o. • ^ 7 ^ forgetfulness 
 
 the. la. ana C^t^ZZ!:,;^^ ^^"^^^ ^^^- 
 JStori^:?;^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^e news, 
 
 and Caroline, with a^^nTs^ hfje Terf^^^^^^ 
 
 when the clS on the ^"';7-'"' ^"''"^^^ ^^e third, 
 the last stroi;e1ird,td7; t'^^^^^^^^^ T' ^ ^^ 
 was an hour nearer to the fatal da7-l the d"^'""''' '' 
 denly thrown open, and pushinfa^iTe t """" '"^" 
 gentlemen entered the room. ' ''™*' *^^ 
 
 Caroline, the first to perceive them st-irt^d f. v, 
 seat with a faint Exclamation of s^' Le v"^ ^'' 
 turned abruptly, and saw before him The !;. '^'""^^ 
 nance of Maltravers. ^ '*^''' ^°"«te- 
 
 "My child! my Evelyn!" exchimprl . * ■,• 
 v„.e.^and Bve>,n had aLd, »of Tnt tlf i™ 
 
 exp^iraVLtrrtj^-yr* ^^- 
 
 mask was torn from his fl7 ,T' • ^'" "'" ""^ 
 <.i.g«sp, his falZod t,t; ts Erl"''"'' I"" 
 i.i» viHan, hatfled! „. str^^^f ™r TS-' 
 
552 
 
 alick; or, the mysteries. 
 
 ei^'- " '' * 
 
 '■' '1 
 
 M"* 
 
 1 
 
 K; 
 
 3? 
 
 if' 
 
 
 i 
 
 
 k ■ 
 
 f5; 
 
 composure : all his resources of courage and craft seemed 
 drained aud exhausted. Livid, speechless, almost trem- 
 bling, he cowered beneath the eyes of Maltravers. 
 
 Evelyn, not as yet aware of the presence of her former 
 lover, was the first to break the silence. She lifted 
 her face in alarm from the bosom of the good curate: 
 " My mother, —she is well, she lives; what brings you 
 hither?" 
 
 " Your mother is well, my child. I have come hither, 
 at her earnest request, to save you from a marriage with 
 that unworthy man ! " 
 
 Lord Vargrave smiled a ghastly smile, but made no 
 answer. 
 
 " Lord Vargrave," said Maltravers, "you will feel at 
 once that you have no further business under this roof. 
 Let us withdraw ; I have much to thank you for. " 
 
 " I will not stir! " exclaimed Vargrave, passionately, 
 and stamping on the floor. " Miss Cameron, the guest 
 of Lady Doltimore, whose house and presence you ' s 
 rudely profane, is my affianced bride, — affianced 
 her own consent. Evelyn, beloved Evelyn! mine you 
 are yet; you alone can cancel the bond. Sir, J know 
 not what you have to say, — what mystery in your im- 
 maculate life to disclose; but unless Lady Doltimore, 
 whom your violence appalls and terrifies, orders me to 
 quit her roof, it is not I, it is yourself, who are the in- 
 truder! Lady Doltimore, with your permission, I will 
 direct your servants to conduct this gentleman to his 
 carriage. " 
 
 "Lady Doltimore, pardon me," said Maltravers, 
 coldly ; " I will not be urged to any failure of respect 
 to you. My lord, if the most abject cowardice be not 
 added to your other vices, you will not make this room 
 the theatre for our altercation. I invite you, in those 
 
 IJi_l 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 le, but made no 
 
 653 
 
 to keep alive tho m« / ^"f'eavored in vain 
 
 work hLJe ht vo ".at" d t-"? '^ ^^^ ^^^^^'^ ^^ 
 breast. Bet^e,^^ these ul ' ^'"'^ '""'^ "P"" ^"« 
 around them all pr t T ^'T-^'T """'^ "^^^^-'^d; 
 Caroline turnt g' h^ vel f '" ^"'''^'^" «^^--' - 
 wonder and disnuv p' T T. "^^^ *" ^^^ ^^^er. in 
 
 alive only to'^ lofglf that t T' ^" '^ '^^^'"' ^^' 
 position of Providoncf «hri ^,f "'' "'"'^^^"^ ''^^^^r- 
 qnences of her own "ashnl r^^^ ''''^' *'^« ^^"««- 
 her ga. riveted Tn'Slt^^^f^A^brey, with 
 
 gentle character was bom! T^ . ^""^''y' ^^'^««« 
 powerful and tempestt^ '^ .'I f ^"^^'^ '^ *^« 
 collision and conflict, with^^ieldbvr J, ''"'' "^^* ^^ 
 grave's treachery from l^t ^tuL 7 '^'^^'"'^^ 
 and yet appalled bvtL , *^''^''' *° Propitiate, 
 
 for l firs'/ time crLled hr'^"^^" «^ ^^^^^^^^ ^haJ 
 
 gra^fsLrd ^bTrrvf d' 1?"^^' ^'^ ^'^^^ ^- 
 -h course as migltTS :;;tr^^^^^^^^ 
 doorjned, and -the name of%r'Hot:rdr I^! 
 
 you ! " mpo^tance ! I am so fortunate to find 
 
 " What is the matter, sir ?" 
 
 welcome to Vargrave. He bent his 
 
554 
 
 ALTCK ; OH, TIIF, MYSTERIES. 
 
 L^..' 
 
 head with a polito smile, linked his arm into his secre- 
 tflry's, and witlidrew to the recess of the farthest win- 
 dow. Not a minute elapsed heforo he turned away with 
 a look of scornful exultjition. " Mr. Howard," said he, 
 " go and refresh yourself, and come to mo at twol vo 
 o'clock to-night; I shall he at home then." The socro- 
 tary bowed and withdrew. 
 
 "Now, sir," said Vargrave to Maltravers, "I am 
 willing to leave you in possession of the field. Miss 
 Cameron, it will bo, I fear, impossible for me to enter- 
 tain any longer the bright hopes I had once formed; my 
 cruel fate compels me to seek wealth in any matrimonial 
 engagement. I regret to inform you that you are no 
 longer the great heiress : tho whole of your capital was 
 placed in the hands of Mr. Douce for the completion of 
 tho purchase of Lisle Court. Mr. Douce is a bankrupt; 
 he has fled to America. This letter is an express from 
 my lawyer; the house has closed its payments. Perhaps 
 we may hope to obtain sixpence in the pound. I am a 
 loser also; the forfeit-money bequeathed to me is gone. 
 I know not whether, as your trustee, I am not account- 
 able for the loss of your fortune (drawn out on my re- 
 sponsibility) ; probably so. But as I have not now a 
 shilling in the world, I doubt whether Mr. Maltravers 
 will advise you to institute proceedings against me. 
 Mr. Maltravers, to-morrow, at nine o'clock, I will 
 listen to what you have to say. I wish you all good- 
 night." He bowed, seized his hat, and vanished. 
 
 "Evelyn," said Aubrey, "can you require to learn 
 more 1 Do you not already feel you are released from 
 union with a man without heart and honor? " 
 
 " Yes, yes! I am so happy! " cried Evelyn, bursting 
 into tears. " This hated wealth, — I feel not its loss; I 
 am released from all duty to my benefactor; I am free! " 
 
,s. 
 
 into his secre- 
 m fartlujst win- 
 mod away with 
 ward," said he, 
 ) mo at twolvo 
 1." Tlie socro- 
 
 ravors, " I am 
 10 fiekl. Mis8 
 or mo to entor- 
 ce formed; my 
 uy matrimonial 
 lat you are no 
 3ur capital was 
 I completion of 
 is a bankrupt; 
 1 express from 
 Bnts. Perhaps 
 lound. I am a 
 to mo is gone, 
 n not account- 
 out on my re- 
 ive not now a 
 tir. Mai tra vers 
 8 against mo. 
 'clock, I will 
 you all good- 
 anished. 
 [juire to learn 
 released from 
 r?" 
 
 elyn, bursting 
 not its loss; I 
 ' ; I am free ! " 
 
 amok; ok, TiriO MV.STKIUMS. fjr,^ 
 
 The last tio that had yot united tho f,,,,!,. Oarolinn .n 
 Vargrave wa.s hrok.-n ; a wo.nun fo.-Kiv.. si i 
 lover, but novor ,uoann.s.s. Th. d...r d ,. , '"l 
 
 we are both too unnorvod for I. ''^'''' 
 
 may still mm.Hter to your future happiness. " 
 
 But said Aubrey, "can we believe this new and 
 astounding statement? r-in fi,;. u i "'"«"< wand 
 Mav we not v^ i^ ^''^ ""''. 1««« be «o irremediable ? 
 ^uay we not yot take precaution, and save at l,.,wf 
 some wrecks of this noble fortune ? " ' ""'' 
 
 "I thank you for recalling mo to the world," said 
 Mai ravers, eagerly. "I ^m see to it this instan 
 and to-morrow, Evelyn, after my interview w h vou T 
 will hasten to London, and act in that capacUy til i;f 
 to me, - your guardian, your friend » 
 
 He turned away his face, and hurried to the door. 
 
 J^velyn clung more closely to Aubrev " 7^„f , 
 W.1I not leave ■„„ to-„ig,,U L, ^X; w„ i„' Z 
 you accommodation; do not leave me » 
 
556 
 
 ALICE; Oi;, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 ill. 
 
 MM 
 IS 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Alack, 't is he. Why. lie was met even now 
 As mad as the vexed sea. 
 
 Lear. 
 
 In the Rue de la Paix there resided an English lawyer 
 of eminence, with whom Maltravers had had previous 
 dealings; to this gentleman he now drove. He ac- 
 quainted him with the news he had just heard respect- 
 ing the bankruptcy of Mr. Douce, and commissioned 
 him to leave Paris the first moment he could obtain 
 a passport, and to proceed to London. At all events, he 
 would arrive there some hours before Maltravers; 'and 
 those hours were something gained. This done, he 
 drove to the nearest hotel, which chanced to be the 
 
 Hotel de M , where, though he knew it not, it so 
 
 happexied that Lord Vargrave himself lodged. As his 
 carriage stopped without, while the porter unclosed the 
 gates, a man, who had been loitering under the lamps, 
 darted forward, and prying into the carriage-window] 
 regarded Maltravers earnestly. The latter, preoccupied 
 and absorbed, did not notice him; but when the car- 
 riage drove into the courtyard, it was followed by the 
 stranger, who was muffled in a worn and tattered cloak, 
 and whose movements were unheeded amidst the bustle 
 of the arrival. The porter's wife led the way to a 
 second floor, just left vacant, and the waiter began to 
 arrange the fire. Maltravers threw himself abstractedly 
 upon the sofa, insensible to all around him, when, 
 lifting his eyes, he saw before him the countenance of 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 657 
 
 poached ZtZlt and a a TlS"'''^-- '° '■- 
 voice, « y„„ are the man of II oth :' :!' "' " '" 
 I most desired to see I i. , ' "' "''"' o"". 
 
 my time is ho . Spare 1^7 '"• "^ '^ ^''''' ■"•• 
 Tlio f^r^o A ^ * *®^ niinutes." 
 
 warmth. "Cold eold » t/ / -f ^''''"''^ ''^ ^^^ 
 self- "mfnrl ' ^""^^'^'^ '^'^ piteously, as to him- 
 
fL 
 
 i i 
 
 
 * i { 
 
 Si 
 
 
 
 ^ ■_ 
 
 li^ 
 
 J^ ' 
 
 
 
 If. 
 
 «i ; 
 
 ir 
 
 
 558 
 
 ALICE ; OU, THK MYSTKRIKS. 
 
 i i 
 
 what the love of liberty hrings men to! Thoy found 
 me plenty in the jail. But I have read of men who 
 feasted merrily before execution, —have not you? —and 
 my hour is at hand. All this day I have felt chained 
 by an irresistible destiny to this house. But it was not 
 you I sought; no matte", in the crisis of our doom all 
 its agents meet together. It is the last act of a dreary 
 play ! " -^ 
 
 The Italian turned again to the fire, and bent over it, 
 muttering to himself. 
 
 Maltravers remained silent and thoughtful. Now was 
 the moment once more to place the maniac under the 
 kindly vigilance of his family,— to snatch him from 
 the horrors, perhaps, of starvation itself, to which his 
 escape had condemned him; if he could detain Cesarini 
 till De Montaigne could arrive! 
 
 Agreeably to this thought, he quietly drew towards 
 him the portfolio which had been laid on the table 
 and Cesarini's back still turned to him, wrote a hasty 
 line to De Montaigne. When his servant re-entered 
 with the wine and viands, Maltravers followed him out 
 of the room, and bade him see the note sent immedi- 
 ately. On returning, he found Cesarini devouring the 
 food before him with all the voracity of famine. It 
 was a dreadful sight! — the intellect ruined, the mind 
 darkened, the wild, fierce animal alone left. 
 
 When Cesarini had appeased his hunger, he drew 
 near to Maltravers, and thus accosted him: — 
 
 " I mast lead you back to the past. I sinned against 
 you and the dead; but Heaven has avenged you, and me 
 you can pity and forgive. Maltravers, there is another 
 more guilty than I, but proud, prosperous, and great. 
 His crime Heaven has left to the revenge of man! I 
 bound myself by an oath not to reveal his villany. I 
 
id bent over it, 
 
 ALICE ; 01!, Tin.; MY.STMRrKS. 559 
 
 cancel the oath now. for the knowlo,l..o of it «}.o. li 
 survive hi.s life and min,,. An.l nvC, n '^'^7''^ 
 •leem me. tlie mad are prophets LlT 1 ^^ ""^ 
 tion.a voice not of ea tl/ 1 \: h T ''"" '"'''''■ 
 already i„ the Sha.lo^ 0^11,;,/" ""'' '"' "'^' ' -« 
 
 taii/tht omi7Ao;; '""^"''"'•"^ 
 
 -rehited tlie counsels t\T ^ '"^' '" '^' ''^^"'■^' 
 
 of Lumley. sZ^^^Z^^^T' ^'^ f "^^^"'"^ 
 heart of Maltravers fJ.l '^.''^^y ''« forced into the 
 
 eaicuutinroifr^r ;::r i^rr. "' ii/'-r- 
 
 concluded hi. narration ■ _ '^ "*''»' i ""d 'hus ho 
 
 freedom was mv last lmn« ^V 1 "^^'^"'^•^- ^n that 
 
 Mal.^vo„J„n"d ':':•- '''° ''°"" °' "™8°-'" 
 length he aaid caln ly, " c™ .["Z"" "'°"'''"''' ^' 
 great that they defy iven^ '. ?^ '"■""'°" "° 
 
 - alike inj Jed. tit"!?!.!' S "'t".; ^ ."? 
 hearts, and, bettor than we can do mca „ TZl 
 and its oxcMs. y„u think n't "" """"' 
 
 suirored.-that he ha^ *„ ," " ° """"""' '"" ""' 
 
 sor;:;d'trdrSsaT„7*Tt'rr "- 
 on.swes t',rt,;:\rtr^^^^^^^ 
 
 wherr' ''*"'■' ^'"'""y. ■"..<• was ahout to answer. 
 But here we must return to Lord Vai^rave. 
 

 5G0 
 
 ALICE; 01!, THE MVHTEUIES. 
 
 hi , 
 
 ,in 
 
 m 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 My noble lord, 
 Your worthy friends do lack yoii. 
 
 He is about it -. 
 The doors are open. 
 
 Macbeth. 
 
 Ibid. 
 
 On quitting Lady Doltimore's house, Lumloy drove to 
 his hotel. His secretary had been the bearer of other 
 communications, with the nature of which he had not 
 yet acquainted himself; but he saw by the superscrip- 
 tions that they were of great importance. Still, how- 
 ever, even in the solitude and privacy of his own 
 chamber, it was not on the instant that he could divert 
 his thoughts from the ruin of his fortunes, — the loss not 
 only of Evelyn's property, but his own claims upon it 
 (for the whole capital had been placed in Douce's 
 hands); the total wreck of his grand scheme; the tri- 
 umph he had afforded to Maltravers. He ground his 
 teeth in impotent rage, and groaned aloud, as he trav- 
 ersed his room with hasty and uneven strides. At last 
 he paused and muttered, " Well, the spider toils on 
 even when its very power of weaving fresh webs is 
 exhausted; it lies in wait; it forces itself into the 
 webs of others. Brave insect, thou art my model! 
 While I have breath in my body, the world and all its 
 crosses. Fortune and all her malignity, shall not pre- 
 vail against me! What man ever yet failed until he 
 himself grew craven, and sold his soul to the arch-fiend, 
 Despair! 'T is but a girl and a fortune lost; they 
 
 K I ^ iJllSl 
 
ALICE ; on, THE MYSTEKIES. Sfij 
 
 issue had been fnrmnll,, l .""y- ^ho question at 
 
 Pni • . . ^'^™»l^y ^^'-^ abruptly decided in fl 
 Cabinet acainst Vami-uo i i • "'-^-luui in tiic 
 
 b..«f,r vargrave and lus manoeuvres f ,„„. 
 
 Knew nis nun. In terms of affected 
 36 
 
 :ffi;i 
 
\h ^^ 
 
 M 
 H r 
 
 
 562 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 regret, he alluded to the loss the government would 
 sustain in the services of Lord Saxingham, etc. ; he 
 rejoiced that Lord Vargrave's absence from London'luid 
 prevented his being prematurely mixed up, by false 
 scruples of honor, in secessions which his judgment 
 must condemn. He treated of the question in dispute 
 with the most delicate address, — confessed the reason- 
 ableness of Lord Vargrave's former opposition to it, but 
 contended that it was now, if not wise, inevitable. He 
 said nothing of the Justice of the measure he proposed 
 to adopt, but much on the expedienci/. He concluded 
 by offering to Vargrave, in the most cordial and flatter- 
 ing terms, the very seat in the Cabinet which Lord Sax- 
 ingham had vacated, with an apology for its inadequacy 
 to his lordship's merits, and a distinct and definite 
 promise of the refusal of the gorgeous viceroyalty of 
 India, which would be vacant next year by the return 
 of the present governor-general. 
 
 Unprincipled as Vargrave was, it is not, perhaps, 
 judging him too mildly to say that, had he succeeded 
 in obtaining Evelyn's hand and fortune, he would have 
 shrunk from the baseness he now meditated. To step 
 coldly into the very post of which he, and he alone, had 
 been the cause of depriving his earliest patron and 
 nearest relative; to profit by the betrayal of his own 
 party; to damn himself eternally in the eyes of his 
 ancient friends; to pass down the stream of history as 
 a mercenary apostate, — from all this Vargrave must 
 have shrunk, had he seen one spot of honest ground on 
 which to maintain his footing. But now the waters 
 of the abyss were closing over his head : he would have 
 cj^ught at a straw ; how much more consent to be picked 
 up by the vessel of an enemy! All objection, all scru- 
 ple, vanished at once. And the "barbaric gold" "of 
 
tlES. 
 
 :ovemnient would 
 :ingham, etc. ; he 
 from London liad 
 sed up, by false 
 ch his judgment 
 estion in dispute 
 'essed the reason- 
 position to it, but 
 , inevitable. He 
 asure he proposed 
 '. He concluded 
 rdial and flatter- 
 which Lord Sax- 
 )r its inadequacy 
 net and definite 
 IS viceroyalty of 
 sar by the return 
 
 is not, perhaps, 
 ad he succeeded 
 a, he would have 
 iitated. To step 
 nd he alone, had 
 iest patron and 
 ayal of his own 
 the eyes of his 
 im of history as 
 Vargrave must 
 onest ground on 
 now the waters 
 : he would have 
 ent to be picked 
 ection, all scru- 
 )aric gold" "of 
 
 alick; or, the mysteries. 663 
 
 lost: how fortunate W / .f ^'^ ''"' ""^'^ ^o be 
 
 which it was iCisiS \o\r:^hr;r"'°"' ^^^"^ 
 
 him before the failure of 1 . • ^'''' "^^^"^ *« 
 
 become known t t" , \ "^'-^tfnnonial projects had 
 
 off on the morrow an ^ 7"-' ^''"'' ^' ^^'^"^'^ ««* 
 
 fortune; changed the no Z f J'- ' 'T' ' "^^«' ^ ^^le 
 into a dabinet office !!aM^^^^^^ ri""''' ''''' ^^^PP^^ 
 
 much a governor-grnerar: nlia :olt"f "^ '^^^ 
 years. But it was nnlv «i f . ^^^ ^y in five 
 
 Mr. Howard's' w:rttth:.tt,^^ ''' ^"^ '' 
 see him, and learn all thojV ^'^^ "^ "^"«h to 
 
 the rece'nt evel "ptr ^Z^rr °*^^ ^^^ 
 already forgotten ,i. exLten ; ^'^^7]'^^' 
 tily. It was some time before hisTpt f '" ^^'■ 
 
 Promptitude and readttT trvTtLTTf T . 
 Vargrave peremptorily demanded n a erl " h"' 
 he paid the best price for the articles T • '' 
 
 than in plunder, -he was aeZlTu ~ ' '"^ '""^S^' 
 them. ^' generally sure to obtain 
 
 " Where the deuce have vou been? T^l.,-. • .u ., . 
 time I have rnncrf v -^"^ oeen f Ihis is the th rd 
 
 " I beevourT . I , '"^^'^ *" ^' ^" *he anteroom' " 
 i neg your lordship's pardon- hnf r i , . 
 
 Mr. Maltravers's valet to fin7» t [\ ^^' ^''^P^"^ 
 
 in the courtyard." ' ^'^ ''^''^' ^' dropped 
 
 ;;Mr. Maltravers! Is he at this hotel ?» 
 "HumoM t'^'M'%r'"^ '^^ J"«^ «^^-head." 
 
 " ^rmy lofd" ' Ho ?r ^rr ^ ^"^^-^ ^-'^ ^ " 
 ^•is aunt. Lady Jane ' ""' ""* ''' ^^^ g-« ^o 
 
ALICF; OR, TIIK MYSTERIES. 
 
 "Ah! Lady Jaiio livos at Paris: so she does, — 
 Kuo Chausst'o d'Aiitiu. You know the liouse? Go 
 immediately, go yourself! — don't trust to a messenger, 
 — and beg Mr. Howard to return with you. I want to 
 see him instantly." 
 "Yes, my lord." 
 
 The servant went. Lumley was in a mood in which 
 solitude was intolerable. Ho was greatly excited; and 
 some natural compunctions at the course on which he 
 had decided made him long to escape from thought. 
 So Maltravers was under the same roof! He had prom- 
 ised to give him an interview next day; but next day 
 he -wished to be on the road to London. Why not have 
 it over to-night? But could Maltravers meditate any 
 hostile proceedings 1 Impossible ! Whatever his causes 
 of compi.iint, they were of too delicate and secret a na- 
 ture for seconds, bullets, and newspaper paragraphs. 
 Vargrave might feel secure that he should not be de- 
 layed by any Bois de Boulogne assignation; but it was 
 necessary to his honor (^\) that he should not seem to 
 shun the man he had deceived and wronged. He would 
 go up to him at once, — a new excitement would distract 
 his thoughts. Agreeably to this resolution, Lord Var- 
 grave quitted his room, and was about to close the outer 
 door, when he recollected that perhaps his servant might 
 not meet with Howard, that the secretary might prob- 
 ably arrive before the time fixed; it would be as well 
 to leave his door open. Ho accordingly stopped, and 
 writing upon a piece of paper, " Dear Howard, send up 
 for me the moment you arrive : I shall be with Mr. Mal- 
 travers au second," Vargrave wafered the affiche to 
 the door, which he then left ajar, and the lamp in the 
 landing-place fell clear and full on the paper. 
 
 It was the voice of Vargrave, in the little stone-paven 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 565 
 
 antechamber without, inquiring of the servant if Mr 
 rm tedT""-'' home, which had startled and inter" 
 rupted Cesanni as he was about to reply to Ernest 
 
 atrSr *'^^* ^^-^-^--«^--ach gl^^^^ 
 
 toC^r;;:!:::^;:;:--:— ;>^-"^--^^ 
 
 "Meet him? No! " said Cesarini, with a furtive and 
 simster glance, winch a man versed in his disease would 
 have understood, but which Maltravers did not even 
 observe. ' I will retire into your bedroom; my eyes are 
 heavy, — I could sleep." . "ly eyes are 
 
 He opened the inner door as he spoke, and had 
 scarcely re-closed it before Vargrave entered, 
 von ^^"?;'^""^ «^^^\f " ^«re engaged; but I thought 
 
 Tted'Ssr ^^ ''' '''-''''' -^ ^-^-« -"^ 
 
 Maltravers drew the bolt across the door that separated 
 them from Cesanni; and the two men, whose characters 
 and lives were so strongly contrasted, were now alone. 
 
 You wished an interview, -an explanation," said 
 Lumley ; " I shrink from neither. Let me forestall in- 
 quiry and complaint. I deceived you knowingly and 
 deliberately, it is quite true, -all stratagems are fair 
 in love and war. The prize was vast! I believed my 
 career depended on it; I could not resist the tempta- 
 tion I knew that before long you would learn that 
 Lyelyn was not your daughter; that the first communi- 
 cation between yourself and Lady Vargrave would be- 
 ^ay me; but it was worth trying a coup de main. 
 i:ou have foiled me, and conquered: be it so- I con- 
 gratulate you. You are tolerably rich, and the loss of 
 Evelyn s fortune will not vex you as it would have 
 done me." 
 
566 
 
 ALICE; OR, THK MYSTERIES. 
 
 "Lord Vargrave, it is but poor affectation to treat 
 thus lightly the dark falscliood you conceived, the awful 
 curse you inflicttMl ui^on nio! Your sight is now so 
 painful to me — it so stirs the passions that I would 
 seek to suppress — that the sooner our interview is ter- 
 minated the better. I have to charge you also with 
 a crime, — not, perhaps, baser than the one you so 
 calmly own, but the consequences of which were more 
 fatal : you understand me ? " 
 "I do not." 
 
 "Do not tempt rae! do not lie!" said Maltravers, 
 still in a calm voice, though his passions, naturally so 
 strong, shook his whole frame. " To your arts I owe 
 the exile of years that should have been better spent; 
 to those arts Cesarini owes the wreck of his reason, and 
 Florence Lascelles her early grave! Ah, you are pale 
 now ; your tongue cleaves to your mouth ! And think 
 you these crimes will go forever unrequited; think you 
 that there is no justice in the thunderbolts of God? " 
 
 "Sir," said Vargrave, starting to his feet, "I know 
 not what you suspect; I care not what you believe ! But 
 I am accountable to man, and that account I am willing 
 to render. You threatened me in the presence of my 
 ward; you spoke of cowardice, and hinted at danger. 
 Whatever my faults, want of courage is not one. Stand 
 by your threats, I am ready to brave them ! " 
 
 "A year, perhaps a short month, ago," replied Mal- 
 travers, " and I would have arrogated justice to my own 
 mortal liand; nay, thi^ very night, had the hazard of 
 either of our lives been necessary to save Evelyn from 
 your persecution, I would have incurred all things for 
 her sake! But that is past; from me you have nothing 
 to fear. The proofs of your earlier guilt, with its 
 dreadful results, would alone suffice to warn me from 
 
ALICE; Oi;, THE MYSTEHIES. 
 
 567 
 
 «ie solemn rosponsil.ility of luiman vengeance! Great 
 Heaven! what hand eouM ,lare to send a crimina so 
 long hardened, so black with crime, unaton "^"10- 
 
 thfl; TLT'T''] '^'"^^ ''' .i".Ig.nent-;e:t of 
 ALL Just? Go, unhappy niau! may life lone, ho 
 
 spared to you! A«-ake. awake from this world Tff 
 
 your feet pass the irrevocable boundary^'n^ ne^t- '' '" 
 I came not here to listen to homilies and the cant 
 
 of the conventicle," sai.l Vargrave, vainly strung ngt 
 
 bw.(ifde.;istirs;;i:rL:;;:^.--;ri^ 
 
 but the effects of which I, no prophet, could no f^! 
 «oe were necessary for success in life. I have been but 
 
 To b : r'arr ''^7 '-'V'- -'^-^^^^ agamsttLn 
 ladders " ^ ' ''"^'""'^ "^"^' '"'^ke use of foui 
 
 f Jii?^''" f^ ^f'^'^'-^^'^i'S earnestly, touched involun- 
 tarily, and m sp.te of his abhorrence of the crimina" 
 by the relenting that this miserable attempt as I 
 jnstificatjon seemed to denote, -" oh, bo wanld w^^ 
 
 He/ IT' 7''^ ""^ ^"'"■^'^^f "^ "'««« paltry sophis- 
 
 you might have climbed, if, with those rare gifts and 
 energies, with that subtle sagacity and indomitable coi^ 
 age. your ambition ha.I but chosen the straight, not the 
 crooked path! Pause! many years may yet in the 
 course of nature, afford you time to retrace 'your tens 
 to at^ne to thousands the injuries you have LlictldTn 
 tlie few. I know not why I thus address you • but 
 
 tells me hat you are alrea.ly on the brink of the abyss' " 
 
 Lord Vargrave changed color, nor did he speak for 
 
 some moments; then raising his head, with a faint 
 
 f*.f: 
 
y|^ ^-''m 
 
 f 
 
 m 
 
 i^ 
 
 
 568 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 smile, he said, "Maltravers, you are a false soothsayer. 
 At this moment my paths, crooked though they be, have 
 led me far toward the summit of my proudest hopes; 
 the straight path would have left me at the foot of the 
 mountain ! You yourself are a beacon against the course 
 you advise. Let us contrast each other. You took the 
 straight path; I the crooked. You, my superior in for- 
 tune; you, infinitely above me in genius; you, born to 
 command and never to crouch, — how do we stand now, 
 each in the prime of life? You, with a barren and 
 profitless reputation, without rank, without power,— 
 almost without the hope of power. I — but you know 
 not my new dignity — I, in the Cabinet of England's 
 ministry, vast fortunes opening to my gaze,— the proud- 
 est station not too high for my reasonable ambition! 
 You, wedding yourself to some grand chimera of an 
 object, aimless, when it eludes your grasp. I, swing- 
 ing, squirrel-like, from scheme to scheme; no matter if 
 one breaks, another is at hand! Some men would have 
 cut their throats in despair, an hour ago, in losing the 
 object of a seven years' chase, — beauty and wealth, 
 both ! I open a letter and find success in one quarter 
 to counterbalance failure in another. Bah! bah! each 
 to his m4tier, Maltravers! For you, honor, melan- 
 choly, and, if it please you, repentance also! For 
 me, the onward, rushing life, never looking back to the 
 past, never balancing the stepping-stones to the future. 
 Let us not envy each other: if you were not Diogenes, 
 you would be Alexander. Adieu! our interview is 
 over. Will you forget and forgive, and shake hands 
 once more? You draw back, —you frown! Well, per- 
 haps you are right. If we meet again — " 
 " It will be as strangers. " 
 "No rash voavs! you may return to politics; you may 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTKRIES. 
 
 569 
 
 on crooked paths, believe me. ^rCu* '^ '' "' 
 
 The messenger who had taken the letter to Tt. Tir 
 that yet oppressed him f '*7 r^P"^ a^^ the anxieties 
 
 itics; you may 
 
670 
 
 ALICK; OK, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 ■'i 
 
 4 
 
 n: 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 By eight to-morrow 
 Thou shalt be made immortal. 
 
 Measure for Measure. 
 
 Lord Vargrave returned to his apartment to find Mr 
 Howard, who had but just that instant arrived, warming 
 his white and well-ringed hands by the fire. He con- 
 versed with him for half an hour on all the topics on 
 which the secretary could give him information, and then 
 dismissed him once more to the roof of Lady Jane. 
 
 As he slowly undressed himself, he saw on his writing- 
 table the note which Lady Doltimore had referred to 
 and which he had not yet opened. He lazily broke 
 the seal, ran his eye carelessly over its few blotted words 
 of remorse and alarm, and threw it down again with a 
 contemptuous " pshaw! " Thus unequally are the sor- 
 rows of a guilty tie felt by the man of the world and 
 the woman of society ! 
 
 As his ser/ant placed before him his wine-and-water 
 Vargrave told him to see early to the preparations for 
 departure, and to call him at nine o'clock, 
 
 I' Shall I shut that door, my lord? " said the valet, 
 pointing to one that commimicated with one of those 
 large closets, or armoires, that are common appendages 
 to French bedrooms, and in which wood and sundry 
 other matters are kept. 
 
 " No " said Lord Vargrave, petulantly; " you servants 
 are so fond of excluding every breath of air. I should 
 never have a window open if I did not open it myself 
 
ES. 
 
 ALICE 
 
 OR, THR MYSTERIKS. 
 
 571 
 
 re for Meaaure. 
 
 nent to find Mr. 
 rrived, warming 
 ! fire. He con- 
 11 the toiiics on 
 nation, and then 
 lady Jane. 
 ' on his writing- 
 lad referred to, 
 le lazily broke 
 w blotted words 
 m again with a 
 ly are the sor- 
 the world and 
 
 (^ine-and-water, 
 (reparations for 
 
 said the valet, 
 I one of those 
 ion appendages 
 d and sundry 
 
 " you servants 
 air. I should 
 )pen it myself. 
 
 torrr*:,?""" ""■ »" ^" "Ot b« later .h,n „(„„ 
 
 Vargraveput t' 3 ctrit .°f.''° ~» "^^ ™<1 
 after drowsily gazin^ri !! t ''""'"" "> ^'i. »■! 
 of the fire, wM h ^Je". T \ ™ "'" -"j^S """"^^ 
 chamber, fc,, £ * I Th» ',1"^ '*'" °™' "'» 
 
 his wont, a. I„ eriv f ' T ' T ""»• •■" «» °««n 
 E.nesrs^oter.CtseZin"; ""'" '^"^ '^^ 
 
 friend S^"' J^ dtZre'lit T""' '"""" "'^ 
 "nhappy n,a„'s accusatton rf hT ,c£r r"' ' S"* *' 
 -vant entered the room veryaS^;;;™'"-"- ^'-''^ 
 
 What i;'tordt'e;L'tthX h"^rr"'' '° "-"- 
 
 - Mr. Howard ha, been eMforitd LoM D ?r"™" 
 -80 very strange, so sndden I » "" ''°"™™ 
 
 ; What is the matter) Speak plain. - 
 
 '•S^^::::;f-''-'^-^vargrave-.. 
 
 his\!Ship'««Idr'''',*;.!'°'''' '•"""8 J'oaknew 
 
 Lord Vairave sir i? t . "' T "™''' '""^ '1»™- 
 Ml » ^'^''' '"' " '*»<'. - found dead in his 
 
 ^o^tTj:ir^,'', «'.^»P0' »;* ama^e and 
 ^chemesandtpratd'^MonT"' "» '"" °' "'^ -« 
 
 ' Hi 
 
 ■T ' i II 
 
 'I "I ' 1 
 
 .' mi 
 
 i 
 
572 
 
 alick; or, the mysteries. 
 
 r 4 
 
 •;'i i 
 
 scended the stairs, laid his hand on Ernest's arm and 
 detained him. 
 
 " Did you say tliat Castniccio h'it the apartment while 
 Vargrave was with you, and almost immediately after 
 his narrative of Vargrave's instigation to his crime? " 
 "Yes." 
 
 The eyes of the friends met; a terrible suspicion pos- 
 sessed both. 
 
 "No; it is impossible!" exclaimed Maltravers. 
 " How could he obtain entrance, — how pass Lord Var- 
 grave's servants? No, no; think of it not." 
 
 They hurried down the stairs ; they reached the outer 
 door of Vargrave's apartment. The notice to Howard, 
 with the name of Vargrave underscored, was still on the 
 panels ; De Montaigne saw and shuddered. 
 
 They were in the room by the bedside ; a group were 
 collected round, — they gave way as the Englishman and 
 his friend approached ; and the eyes of Maltravers sud- 
 denly rested on the face of Lord Vargrave, Avhich was 
 locked, rigid, and convulsed. 
 
 There was a buzz of voices which had ceased at the 
 entrance of Maltravers; it was now renewed. A sur- 
 geon had been summoned, — the nearest surgeon, a young 
 Englishman, of no great repute or name. He was 
 making inquiries as he bent over the corpse. 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Lord Vargrave's servant; " his lord- 
 ship told me to call him at nine o'clock. I came in at 
 that hour, but his lordship did not move nor answer me. 
 I then looked to see if he were very sound asleep, and 
 I saw that the pillows had got somehow over his face, 
 and his head seemed to lie very low ; so I moved the 
 pillows, and I saw that his lordship was dead. " 
 
 " Sir," said the surgeon, turning to Maltravers, " you 
 were a friend of his lordship's, I hear. I have already 
 
ALICE; OR, TllR MYSTKRIES. 
 
 573 
 
 le suspicion pos- 
 
 sno!/"-.f '• """"•' ^"'^ ^°^^1 I>«ltimore. Shall I 
 speak with you a minute ? " 
 
 Maltravers nodderl n«aot.f 'm 
 
 r A '"^^'"'^^ ,?.' - y^"- I '•e^ollect his face ; why ? " 
 ^^ And you tlunk him safe and honest ? " ^ 
 
 ^^ 1 don t know; I know nothing of him." 
 
 slish^'dLr';'''^" '""^ "" ^"^g'^°" P^i^te-J to a 
 mln l';',t \'^ '"' ^^^'^ *^^ "-''^t of the dead ' 
 man This may be accidental, - purely natural • hia 
 
 mLtTf ^r? '1' ^" ' «*'-^'-^ arrrtti-: 
 
 might stm!!T' '"''""^ '"* "^"^^- by suffocation 
 
 "But who beside ^he servant could gain admission? 
 Was the outer door closed ? " aumission / 
 
 fnr7^' '':T* '"" *"^' ^'"^ ^'b^t he shut the door be- 
 '";!' r: ''' ''I' *'f "^ ^"^ ^^^^ -*h his lordship. 
 Entrar . f r,: "^'" ^''^ ^^^^^^^^ ""^"r^d to rest 
 Entrance from the windows is impossible. Mind sir 
 
 I do not think I have any right to suspect a"y 'one 
 fefor h 7>'f r'"'" '"^ ^"^ "^ health a short tirn^ 
 Ce nlvlf f '■ ' '"\^ "^^ ^^ b^-*^ *« th« l^ead. 
 
 ^ractU^ner?'" '^' '^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^ ^^ ^P-ienced 
 De Montaigne, who had hitherto said nothing now 
 ooked with a hurried glance around the room he pe ■ 
 c lyed the closet-door, which was ajar, and rushed to' t. 
 as by an involuntary impulse. The closet was large 
 
 chairs and tables took up a great part of the space. De 
 Montaigne searched behind and amidst this litter with 
 
' f 
 
 1 ,1 
 
 4 
 
 IVi. 
 
 6f4 
 
 Alice ; on, the mvstkriks. 
 
 trembling haste; no trace of secreted murder was visi- 
 ble. He returned to the bedroom with a satisfied and 
 relieved expression of countenance. He then compelled 
 himself to approach the body, from which he had hith- 
 erto recoiled. 
 
 " Sir," said he, almost harshly, as he turned to the 
 surgeon, "what idle doubts are these? Cannot men 
 die in their beds, -of sudden death, no blood to stain 
 their pillows, no loophole for crime to pass through, — but 
 we must have science itself startling us with silly terrors ? 
 As for the servant, [ will answer for his innocence; his 
 manner, his voice, attest it." The surgeon drew back, 
 abashed and humbled, and began to apologize, to qual- 
 ify, when Lord Doltimore abruptly entered. 
 
 " Good Heavens! " said he, " :vhat is this? What do 
 I hear? Is it possible? Dead! So suddenly' " He 
 cast a hurried glance at the body, shivered, and sick- 
 ened, and threw himself into a chair, as if to recover the 
 shock. When again he removed his hand from his face, 
 he saw lying before him on the table an open note. 
 
 The character was familiar; his own name struck his 
 eye, -_ii was the note which Caroline had sent the day 
 oefore. As no one heeded him, Lord Doltimore read 
 on, and possessed himself of the proof of his wife's guilt 
 unseen. 
 
 The surgeon, now turning from De Montaigne, who 
 liad been rating him soundly for the last few mora rts 
 addressed himself to Lord Doltimore. « Your lordship " 
 said he, « was, I hear. Lord Vargrave's most intimate 
 iriend at Paris. " 
 
 "X his intimate friend!" said Doltimore, coloring 
 ^>ig v. and in a disdainful accent. "Sir, you are 
 
 mis-'- J, vx. !." 
 
 " r.:av y ;.< ;io orders tn give, then, my lord? " 
 
 fl : 
 
 i^.}. 
 
(IKS. 
 
 murder was visi- 
 h a satisfied and 
 [o then compelled 
 lich he had hith- 
 
 lie turned to the 
 t Cannot men 
 10 blood to stain 
 isthrough, — hut 
 nth silly terrors 1 
 8 innocence; his 
 jeon drew back, 
 )logize, to qual- 
 red. 
 
 this? What do 
 uddenly ! " He 
 vered, and sick- 
 if to recover the 
 d from his face, 
 open note, 
 lame struck his 
 id sent the day 
 Doltiraore read 
 his wife's guilt 
 
 Contaigne, who 
 
 ■ few mom I ts, 
 
 four lordship," 
 
 most intimate 
 
 more, coloring 
 ' Sir, you are 
 
 AUCE; OK, TFfK MYSTi:iaE:S. 675 
 
 W.tl. whom, tliou, do the last duties rf.<.f ? " ..; i m 
 surccon tnmin.r f,. at n "''"•'it'S rest f said the 
 
 " b"^'"!, turning to ^laltravcrs mul n^ at i ■ 
 ' WiH. iUr, i„* I .. "''lis ana uo Alontaitrno 
 
 •villi tne into lord's scorpt-irv? t „„ l , ■ b"*^- 
 
 inomont; and horo ho is. "fol " Zt 'S "'""^ 
 palo,and evidently ovo conT Tv I'i ~ . ! "'"*"'' 
 
 the apartment. Perhaps oJallfho ' t''> '""'''"'^ 
 the ambitious spiritT/ thlt^ e 1 Hly'Tar d^''"'" 
 around it by the webs of interest affooH ^ ''"'" 
 
 that young ,„an. whom it td If been 'aT IT' 
 to Vargrave to deceive or injur and who T"r 
 the gracious and familiar plo^ m i' neT mlt^b ^' 
 memory, and defended most his cha'racter The gdlf':? 
 the poor secretary was now indeed overmasterinf Tf 
 sobbed and wept like a child. ^^™a&tering. He 
 
 D^'^mT ^^■^^^'"™ ''^''"^ ^''"^ *h« chamber of death 
 ot aid in the last melancholy duties and directions. 
 
 lord?" 
 
576 
 
 ALJCE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 If we do meet again, why, we shall smile. — Julius C"v%r, 
 
 The interview with Evelyn was long and painful. It 
 was reserved for Maltravers to break to her the news of 
 the sudden death of Lord Vargrave, which shocked her 
 unspeakably; and this, which made their first topic, 
 removed much constraint and deadened much excitement 
 in those which followed. 
 
 Vargrave's death served also to relieve Maltravers 
 from a most anxious embarrassment. He need no longer 
 fear that Alice would be degraded in the eyes of Evelyn. 
 Henceforth the secret that identified the erring Alice 
 Darvil with the spotless Lady Vargrave was safe, known 
 only to Mrs. Leslie and to Aubrey. In the course of 
 nature, all chance of its disclosure must soon die with 
 them; and should Alice at last become his wife, and 
 should Cleveland suspect (which was not probable) that 
 Maltravers had returned to his first love, he know that 
 he might depend on the inviolable secrecy of his earliest 
 friend. 
 
 The tale that Vargrave had told to Evelyn of his early 
 — but, according to that tale, guiltless — passion for 
 Alice, he tacitly confirmed; and he allowed that the 
 recollection of her virtues, and the intelligence of her 
 sorrows and unextinguishable affection, had made him 
 recoil from a marriage with her supposed daughter. He 
 then proceeded to amaze his young listener with the ac- 
 count of the mode in which he had discovered her real 
 parentage, of which the banker had left it to Alice's 
 
Julius C'rmr, 
 
 ALICE; Oil, THE MYSTERIES. 577 
 
 discretion to inform Imr „ft 1 , . 
 of efghteen. i Z, ' 'T ." '""' "*'"'"' *« age 
 
 behoUling himZln ,T '"^ ""? ""= J^^ »' Alice at 
 
 p"eC.oe?;e.SSL"eH^V^^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 on me, -does not Ip r u "''' '"'""^ ^^'^e has 
 
 loss separated Jever Buf wi r {"' ''' ''' "«^ '"^^ 
 falsehood winch tlu nnl " ^ ^'^"'"'^^'^ *'^^ ^^^l^^l 
 
 last account to ho ''^'' T\ ""^ ^^"'""-l ^« ^is 
 
 imposed upon^n e - l/el" tTt^ ' ^"^ '"^^^'"> '^^ 
 of Alice, -and whpn T ^' . , ^'"'^ '""'^ *'^« «hild 
 
 hurried into^^L^ rtnf ^ ^ f ^^ '^' '^^" 
 union with one so false and l. ? "'^ '* y^"'' 
 -Ived to frustrate h scwH^d toT '^"": ^^■ 
 an alliance, the niotives of w li h T fo "' '"" ^"^ 
 which my own letter n,,. foresaw, and to 
 
 urged you' ^^eiTilLfe r;^^^^^^^^ 'f'^' 
 
 verted man came to my ear- 1 ut L L 1 if "'"'^ ^''' 
 hia memory, lor you ^l Vn . ''^' ^'' "' «P^^« 
 
 your friend'.your^L°::'t7a \rX M^mt? "^^^^^^ 
 that I have planted no thorn TflVi I '^^P^ "«^^ 
 
 -eiir:rtr/-:r.rp-:rer 
 
 fcive a daughters love to her whom I shall 
 37 
 
r 1 
 
 U' 
 
 578 
 
 ALICE ; OIJ, THE MYSTEIURS. 
 
 Iff ^ 
 
 ever idolize as my mother. Oh, now I see why I 
 tlioiight liei" affoction measured and lukewarm! And 
 have I — I destroyed lier joy at seeing you again? But 
 you — you will hasten to console, to reassure her! She 
 loves you still, — slio will he liappy at last; and that — 
 that thought — oh, that thought compensates for all! " 
 
 There Avas so much warmth and simplicity in Evelyn's 
 artless manner, — it was so evident that her love for 
 him had not heen of that ardent nature which would at 
 first have superseded every other thought in the anguish 
 of losing him forever, — that the scale fell from the eyes 
 of Maltravers, and he saw at once that his own love had 
 blinded him to the true character of hors. He was 
 human; and a sharp pang shot across his breast. Ho 
 remained silent for some moments, and then resumed, 
 compelling himself as he spoke to fix his eyes steadfastly 
 on hers, — 
 
 "And now, Evelyn, — still may I so call you? — I 
 have a duty to discharge to another. You are loved " — 
 and he smiled, but the smile was sad — " by a younger 
 and more suitable lover than T am. From noble and 
 generous motives he suppressed that love, he left you to 
 a rival: the rival removed, dare he venture to explain 
 to you his own conduct, and plead his own motives? 
 George Legard — " ]\[altravers paused. The cheek on 
 which he gazed was tinged with a soft blush; Evelyn's 
 eyes were downcast; there was a slight heaving be- 
 neath the robe. Maltravers suppressed a sigh and con- 
 tinued. He narrated his interview with Legard at 
 Dover, and passing lightly over what had chanced at Ven- 
 ice, dwelt with generous elocjuence on the magnanimity 
 with which his rival's gratitude had been displayed. 
 Evelyn's eyes sparkled, and the smile just visited the 
 rosy lips and vanished again, — the worst, because it 
 
 ilttWri 
 
^LICE; or, the MYSTf.;KiES. 579 
 
 was tlie least sclfisli fear of \UU 
 
 -vain ,loul,tof Eve y 's ,,0 k ''" ^'^ ^""^' ^"^^ 
 cl.ill las conscience in o evi . 1^':" v'T ""''-'""'^ '' 
 duties. ^'"^ '^^ ^'^'•^•^■^t and strongest 
 
 "Farewell!" he sii.l o<. i 
 at once return to Lo 1, ':, ""■ ^'^ ''^^•^^*' " ^ -HI 
 -^^•o your fortune f o t .'is t "T "' '^^^ ''''''' ^o 
 "'^ back to its cares on.l ^'""'''^ ''''^'^'- ^^n-K calls 
 
 Evelyn," said Maltravpis i„ . 
 "spare me _spa,„l,„t|,„r^,'"/ ^^ '<"' voice, 
 
 He paused; Lty„ c^S dej li: ^•""i" ,'» r " 
 Lerface with ho,- ha„,,.,. ',„„* ,1 "s ' ''"'"8 
 
 Wl.en Maltravcrs left the room 1. 
 Auhrey, who, drawing l,im ,,i,w', "^ .™ ""=' V 
 Boltimore had jnst info„ d H, 'f, f™ ";»' .'-'^ 
 
 tention to remain -,1 1>„;. j? , ™ ""' I"* ""- 
 
 In this me r: ' jr t. ''"'i'"."' "'" '^»'""°" 
 Madame do Cl'ur "™ '""'""«'" '"'"»" »' 
 
 ^i-^r.:,o!:rt'xr:„:^;fr-'"-"° 
 HVS;=mTre;>vf- 
 
 "..J suggested that fo Evel™ 1™ '""'"" '''""'' 
 sequestered village in l'„ , '°. '<''"■'" »' onee to a 
 
 to spirits ai; ^. irotof' ;d""f''l'"'r°"'° '"'' 
 though hi. marriig, > ft 'e v vn vf T , ""'" """ 
 ivelfare was no l,.,s dear it^^l,- .1 '■°'"=" ""■ ''" 
 
 first hint, Valerirwt t „ ,"' '"°''''°"- ^t his 
 
 fo. her ;,.„ sISl;; ^^rririVr'-'^- 
 once to Wy Doltimore's. His Sip:;::;';:™,,:: 
 
580 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 h 
 
 ii 
 
 ladyship was ill, in her own room, — could see no one, 
 not even her guest. Evelyn in vain sent up to request 
 an interview, and at last, contenting herself with an 
 atfectionate note of farewell, accompanied Aubrey to 
 the home of her new hostess. 
 
 Gratified at least to know her with one who would be 
 sure to win her affection and .soothe her spirits, Mal- 
 travers set out on his solitary return to England. 
 
 Whatever suspicious circumstances might or might 
 not have attended the death of Lord Vargrave, certain 
 it is that no evidence confirmed, and no popular rumor 
 circulated them. His late illness, added to the supposed 
 shock of the loss of the fortune he had anticipated with 
 Miss Cameron, aided by the simultaneous intelligence 
 of the defeat of the party with whom it was believed 
 he had indissolubly entwined his ambition, sufficed to 
 account, satisfactorily enough, for the melancholy event. 
 De Montaigne, who had been long though not inti- 
 mately acquainted with the deceased, took upon himself 
 all the necessary arrangements, and superintended the 
 funeral; after which ceremony, Howard returned to 
 London, and in Paris, as in the grave, all things are 
 forgotten. But still in De Montaigne's breast there 
 dwelt a horrible fear. As soon as he had learned from 
 Maltravers the charge the maniac brought against Var- 
 grave, there came upon him the recollection of that day 
 when Cesarini had attempted De Montaigne's life, evi- 
 dently mistaking him in his delirium for another, and 
 the sullen, cunning, and ferocious character which the 
 insanity had ever afterwards assumed. He had learned 
 from Howard that the outer door had been left ajar 
 when Lord Vargrave was with Maltravers ; the writing 
 on the panel — the name of Vargrave — would have 
 struck Castruccio's eye as he descended the stairs; the 
 
ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 581 
 
 escape ? — to oass intnihL * ^^* ^° ^^^."^ «s 
 
 De Montaigne now withdrew all inanirv for th. 
 fortunate; he trembled at the thoullTJl ""' 
 
 vr* h'^Tld i'r '"^"'"'"^ P»=k.K .crawl™ 
 ver witn wild, incoherent verses, gave a clew fn th. 
 
 morgue, m that bleached and altered clay De Mon- 
 taigne recognised, the remains of Castruccb C Larini 
 He died, and made no sign! " ^esarini. 
 
S'lj^C-iT 
 
 582 
 
 ALICE; oil, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 
 I: 
 
 ,» < 
 
 t ' 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Singula quasque locum teueant sortita.i — Hob. : Art. Poet. 
 
 Maltravers and the lawyers were enabled to save from 
 the insolvent bank but a very scanty portion of that 
 wealth in which Richard Templeton had rested so mucli 
 of pride. The title extinct, the fortune gone, -so does 
 fate laugh at our ' posthumous ambition. Meanwhile 
 Mr. Douce, with a considerable plunder, had made his 
 way to America; the bank owed nearly half a million- 
 the purchase-money for Lisle Court, which Mr. Douce 
 had been so anxious to get into his clutches, had not 
 sufficed to stave off the ruin, -but a great part of it 
 sufficed to procure competence for himself. How in- 
 ferior in wit, in acuteuess, in stratagem, was Douce to 
 Vargrave; and yet Douce had gulled him like a child! 
 Well said the slirewd small philosopher of France " On 
 vent hre plus fin quhm autre, mais pas plus fin que 
 tous les autres." ^ ^ -' ^ 
 
 To Legard, whom Maltravers had again encountered 
 at Dover, the htter related the downfall of Evelyn's 
 fortunes; and Maltravers loved him when he saw that, 
 far from changing his affection, the loss of wealth 
 seemed rather to raise his hopes. They parted; and 
 Legard set out for Paris. 
 
 But was Maltravers all the while forgetful of Alice? 
 He had not been twelve hours in London before he 
 
 ' To each lot its appropriate place, 
 sharper than all one's neighbors. - Rochefoucauld. 
 
cs. 
 
 OR. : Art. Pott. 
 
 ed to save from 
 portion of tliat 
 rested so much 
 ;one, — so does 
 1. Meanwhile 
 had made liia 
 lalf a million; 
 ch Mr. Douce 
 tches, had not 
 reat part of it 
 elf. How in- 
 was Douce to 
 
 I like a child! 
 f France," On 
 s plus Jin que 
 
 n encountered 
 
 II of Evelyn's 
 1 he saw that, 
 )ss of wealth 
 
 parted ; and 
 
 tful of Alice? 
 on before he 
 
 but oue can't, be 
 
 LD. 
 
 ALICE; 0I£, TlIK AIYSTERrES. 633 
 
 committed to a long and truthful letter all hi. fl ^ . 
 J'ls hopes, his admiring and nrofon,,. r , "'^"K^'^^. 
 and with solemn earntt es f f ":^'- ^^ain. 
 his hand, and to conffrn TTl' ''^ '"I'^^^'l ''er to accept 
 been toli to Evo^ Tr l": f '" ■? '''' ^'^'^ ''^^ 
 which his first belief n Va gL VT ' /'I ^ ^'^^^ 
 sioned,_his nassion«f« w f'»J«ehood had occa- 
 
 trace a love then '^T?''''''''''' ''' «"bdue all 
 
 followed soseb^rT'''"''' ^""" ^'^^ '-"-. 
 faith and affecZ, itarr^J tl' ^""'^ ^"^'^^'■"^' 
 from the throne i't hadi t ^ .M in'r'" ,'' ''"^^'^ 
 thoughts; truly he said ihlT "' '^'""''^^ ^"'l 
 
 EvelynwouldLontc^n Ld^r^ 
 
 with whom she would b.? , "' ^^'' ^^ ^"o^her, 
 
 and 3oiemni;rd:iL:^s:r;f"Ti-"'' '^"^= ''"^'y 
 
 still, if even AH™ ,„„, ^''™ 'sjetteJ liim 
 
 -urp the place of aluti^'iif" ° """'""^ "»"" 
 
 proud fL t vZ deWr r'"'"" °"^ " "^ 'ove 
 refu.ed. "" ™J' ^P'l'Md PUr.ty. His offer wa, 
 
 letters fed Er^ s^s^^n?""™,'"' "> ^^™1<-Gree„, and his 
 ...ore leisurf he wasT t'hlT '"!, ''" ''°'""'- '"'° 
 became those da..lira„, I '"V""*'""""' «« '"""o' 
 had beei, robed an7sZi, 7 "''° "•'""'' '^velj.. 
 
 ..«.o that s„„o„:ded rrs te"'^^?:;': r 
 
 pondered on AIice'<5 no=t i.- . , ^® '"°'''' ho 
 
 of her faithftl rttXlnft^T:::^?^'"^"^^^'^^-^^ 
 
 with wonder and adnu-" o 1 T "^'^ ''"P^^^^^^ 
 
 uniiation, _ the more anxious to se- 
 
teM'3r>^' 
 
 f. if 
 
 584 
 
 ALICE; OH, THE MYSTEUIES. 
 
 
 , 1 
 
 II; 
 
 ill 
 
 cure to his side one to whom Nature had been so bounti- 
 ful in all the gifts that make woman the angel and star 
 of life. 
 
 Months passed. From Paris the news that Maltravers 
 received confirmed all his expectations; the suit of 
 Legard had replaced his own. It was then that Mal- 
 travers began to consider how far the fortune of Evelyn 
 and her destined husband was such as to preclude all 
 anxiety for their future lot. Fortune is so indeter- 
 minate in its gauge and measurement. Money, the most 
 elastic of materials, falls short or exceeds, according to 
 the extent of our wants and desires. With all Legard 's 
 good qualities, he was constitutionally careless and ex- 
 travagant; and Evelyn was too inexperienced, and too 
 gentle, perhaps, to correct his tendencies. Maltravers 
 learned that Legard's income was one that required an 
 economy which he feared that, in spite of all his refor- 
 mation, Legard might not have the self-denial to enforce. 
 After some -consideration, he resolved to add secretly to 
 the remains of Evelyn's fortune such a sum as might, 
 being properly secured to herself and children, lessen 
 whatever danger could arise from the possible improvi- 
 dence of her husband, and guard against the chance of 
 those embarrassments which are among the worst dis- 
 turbers of domestic peace. He was enabled to eflfect 
 this generosity unknown to both of them, as if the sum 
 bestowed were collected from the wrecks of Evelyn's 
 own wealth, and the profits of the sale of the houses in 
 
 C , which of course had not been involved in 
 
 Douce's bankruptcy. And then, if Alice were ever 
 his, her jointure, which had been secured, on the prop- 
 erty appertaining to the villa at Fulham, would devolve 
 upon Evelyn. Maltravers could never accept what 
 Alice owed to another. Poor Alice! No; not that 
 
3. 
 
 ;eeu so bounti- 
 angel and star 
 
 hat Maltravers 
 ; the suit of 
 hen that Mal- 
 uue of Evelyn 
 preclude all 
 is so indeter- 
 3ney, the most 
 i, according to 
 h all Legard's 
 reless and ex- 
 nced, and too 
 . Maltravers 
 it required an 
 
 all his refor- 
 lial to enforce, 
 idd secretly to 
 3um as might, 
 lildren, lessen 
 ible improvi- 
 the chance of 
 ;he worst dis- 
 jled to effect 
 as if the sura 
 i of Evelyn's 
 the houses in 
 
 involved in 
 :e were ever 
 on the prop- 
 ould devolve 
 
 accept what 
 ^o; not that 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTEUIES. 585 
 
 „,nt°'? ^«l"°^«re is travelling in the East; Lady Dolti- 
 niore less adventurous, has fixed her residence in Rom 
 She has grown thm. and taken to antiquities and fouge 
 Her spirits are remarkably hiph nr.f ^ 
 
 effect of laudanum. " ^ ' ~ "'' "" uncommon 
 
586 
 
 ALICE; Olt, THE JIYSTEUIES. 
 
 CHAPTER THE LAST. 
 
 I: 
 
 L 
 
 1)1 ' ' 1* » 
 
 Arrived at last 
 Unto the wished liaven. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 In the August of that eventful year a bridal party were 
 assembled at the cottage of Lady Vargrave. The 
 ceremony had just been performed; and Ernest Mal- 
 travers had bestowed upon George Legard the hand of 
 Evelyn Templeton. 
 
 If upon the countenance of him who thus offinated 
 as a father to her he had once wooed as a bride an ob- 
 servant eye might have noted the trace of mental strug- 
 gles, It was the trace of struggles past; and the calm had 
 once more settled over the silent deeps. He saw from 
 the casement the carriage that was to bear away the 
 bride to the home of another, the gay faces of the vil- 
 lage group, whose intrusion was not forbidden, and to 
 whom that solemn ceremonial was but a joyous pageant; 
 and when he turned once more to those within the 
 chamber, he felt his hand clasped in Legard's. 
 
 " You have been the preserver of my life, you have 
 been the dispenser of my earthly happiness; all now 
 left to me to wish for is that you may receive from 
 Heaven the blessings you have given to others! " 
 
 "Legard, never let her know a sorrow that you can 
 guard her from ; and believe that the husband of Evelyn 
 will be dear to me as a brother." 
 
 And as a brotlier blesses some younger and orphan 
 sister, bequeathed and intrusted to a care that should 
 
ALICE; OR, TIFK MYSTKHIRS. 
 
 PEARE. 
 
 al party were 
 
 grave. The 
 
 Ernest Mal- 
 
 the Land of 
 
 lus officiated 
 bride, an ob- 
 nental stnig- 
 the calm liad 
 Fie saw from 
 lar away tlie 
 s of the vil- 
 dden , and to 
 ous pageant; 
 within the 
 's. 
 
 'e, you have 
 !ss; all now 
 eceive from 
 rs!" 
 
 lat you can 
 d of Evelyn 
 
 and orphan 
 that should 
 
 587 
 prayer. JFe c.-,.,.,l • 1,.. . • ^'J" '"°^'«"^ '» 
 
 ti'Lve ' rr;,: ::°; -" ,""? '- "■■■ «' ", 
 
 ^rriage that IxTa ; iHr^^ "'" T''"°'' °' ">= 
 
 Wore the l„„olv man «,„ : 1 1 1 , ■ "'"° ■''<""' 
 
 Alice, .„il|, pins „ ' ' ° '"" ""'^ ^""'l'. *» 
 
 S» 'hr™/. rr^u"':' '";^'"°"«'"' »■'• "^ 
 
 ■•hittlir;?"''' "''."«'™'». -"d '.is voice tre-bled 
 hitherto from motives too pure and too „„Uo for the 
 
 h7„to?t:^;::-:r;„:;;:::t;f"'^°''''"-^t"'"^*» 
 
 the „T^- ^'' °' "^ '"""'» ••"»"= '«-!' »' us '„ 
 the other. I„ jour heart is locked up all my fo de 
 
 asaoc,at,o„s, my brighlost memories, I„ you I see the 
 m.rror of what I was when the world was new er 1 1 id 
 ores 'Z,t'-'Tr'"'"' "Po„ us, and anlTon S 
 cerves. And me, Alice, -ah, jou love me still! Time 
 
 us Bv'trer'"*'":"*"'"-'"" "» «''""' "'»'«"" 
 as. By the memory of our early love, by the grave 
 
!. 
 
 588 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 If 
 1'^ 
 
 !!■' 
 
 i; % 
 
 of our lost child, that, had it lived, would have united 
 its parents, I implore you to be mine ! " 
 
 "Too generous! " said Alice, almost sinking beneath 
 the emotions that shook that gentle spirit and fragile 
 form. " How can I sulFer your compassion — for it is 
 but compassion — to deceive yourself? You are of an- 
 other station than I believed you. How can you raise 
 the child of destitution and guilt to your own rank ? 
 And shall I — I, who, Heaven knows! would save 
 you from all regret — bring to you now, when years 
 have so changed and broken the little charm I could 
 ever have possessed, this blighted heart and weary 
 spirit? Oh, no, no! " and Alice paused abruptly, and 
 the tears rolled down her cheeks. 
 
 "Be it as you will," said Maltravers, mournfully; 
 " but, at least, ground your refusal upon better motives. 
 Say that now, independent in fortune, and attached to 
 the habits you have formed, you would not hazard your 
 happiness in my keeping; perhaps you are right. To 
 my happiness you would indeed contribute : your sweet 
 voice might charm away many a memory and many a 
 thought of the baffled years that have intervened since 
 we parted; your imago might dissipate the solitude 
 which is closing round the future of a disappointed and 
 anxious life. With you, and with you alone, I might 
 yet find a home, a comforter, a charitable and soothing 
 friend. This you could give to me, and with a heart 
 and a form alike faithful to a love that deserved not so 
 enduring a devotion. But I, — what can I bestow on 
 you ? Your station is equal to my own ; your fortune 
 satisfies your simple wants. 'T is true the exchange is 
 not equal, Alice. Adieu!" 
 
 "Cruel!" said Alice, approaching him with timid 
 
Id have united 
 
 n with timid 
 
 ^"CE; OR, THE MVSTEKIES. gg;, 
 
 steps. " If I could — J 
 
 if I could comfort yL inn'' "",^"*"^^<^' «« unworthy, _ 
 iuiuii you in a suiL' e care' " 
 
 She 8a;d no more, },ut she 1,.,] I 
 
 stretched beyond and afr wo! -^''"^^ •^^'»' *^«t 
 
 agoldenand happy smu"' '"'^'^ ''^'^ >*« ^^^e^n waves 
 
 up"frt^•^':eTs^"rait:;:v^'^^^^^ ^^ -'^ ^-^^^ 
 
 «ince we parted. - man's Lft ^T^"*^ ^°^^^ «^hers 
 -/only ask if'youTor m^ no!:;- '^^^^^"^ ^^^ -«• 
 
 fondly, more reverentlv 1 T''l P"'^^''"' " ^^'^e 
 loved living beLgTl'/,' "^r '"^t"^' ^^^'^ ^ «ver 
 nocence I fdored'the nelry^of \f ? ^ ^ ^"^ -' 
 found that which ahaZl ^a .^- ^'^« have I 
 Here have I found f""/;^,\''-krupts ^he ideal! 
 
 God and Nature has Wn ' T'^'^S ^^ ^'^'^^ from 
 
 losophy, and firm Hhan " 17": '''." ?" "^^ ^^^^ P^- 
 by misfortune; your childhnor ^^f'' ^°"' ^^''^^"'^d 
 fear and vice/wS tS^? '^"''^'^ ^"^^^^^ «-"es of 
 lect, had no poUu Uont; f/ '^ 'f ''^ ^^''^ "^« i^tel" 
 your tempter Ld your foe '°"^^' ^'"^ "^^^ P^^^"^ 
 and an angel by th'e stain oi on" 'softer ' """^^^ 
 error, -you, alike through fb^r ,? , ^ "^^conscious 
 wealth, have been destiS to '^"' '""^' °^P°^"^^' ^^d 
 the example of thetuli^rar^S t^" ^r'"^^^^^*^ 
 what mysterious beautv .J *'^'^'' "« ^^^^ 
 
 Creator has endowed our b? "°'"''*"^ ^'°""««« ^^e 
 naowed our human nature when hallowed 
 
590 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 
 
 by our human affections! You alono suffice to shatter 
 into dust the haughty creeds of the misantlirope and 
 Pharisee. And your fidelity to my erring self has 
 taught me ever to love, to serve, to compassionate, to 
 
 respect, the community of God's creatures to which 
 
 noble and elevated though you are — you yet belong ! " 
 
 He ceased, overpowered with the rush of his own 
 thoughts. And Alice was too blest for words. ]iut in 
 the murmur of the sunlit leaves, in the breath of the 
 summer air, in the song of the exulting birds, and the 
 deep and distant music of the heaven-surrounded seas, 
 there went a melodious voice that seemed as if ISTaturo 
 echoed to his words, and blessed the reunion of her 
 children. 
 
 Mai tra vers once more entered upon the career so long 
 suspended. He entered with an energy more practical 
 and steadfast than the fitful enthusiasm of former years ; 
 and it was noticeable amongst those who knew him well 
 that while the firmness of his mind was not impaired, 
 the haughtiness of his temper was subdued. No longer 
 despising man as he is, and no longer exacting from all 
 things the ideal of a visionary standard, he was more 
 fitted to mix in the living world, and to minister use- 
 fully to the great objects that refine and elevate our race. 
 His sentiments were, perhaps, less lofty, but his actions 
 were infinitely more excellent, and his theories in- 
 finitely more wise. 
 
 Stage after stage we have proceeded with him through 
 the Mysteries of Life. The Eleusinia are closed, 
 and the crowning libation poured. 
 
 And Alice! — will the world blame us if you are 
 left happy at the last? We are daily banishing from 
 our law-books the statutes tliat disproportion punish- 
 
RIES, 
 
 B suffice to shatter 
 I misanthrope and 
 Y erring self has 
 
 compassionate, to 
 itures to which — • 
 fow yet belong ! " 
 
 rush of his own 
 or words. ]iut in 
 
 the breath of the 
 ag birds, and the 
 i-surrounded seas, 
 !med as if Nature 
 le reunion of her 
 
 the career so long 
 ly more practical 
 I of former years ; 
 10 knew him well, 
 vas not impaired, 
 dued. No longer 
 exacting from all 
 >rd, he was more 
 to minister use- 
 l elevate our race, 
 y, but his actions 
 his theories in- 
 
 ALICE; OR, THE MYSTERIES. 591 
 
 ^^:zj^i:ir'^ f- ^-^^^- that we 
 
 - time that rihold p^h/'^t '''''■T'''' '' 
 wisdom we recognize 1 • 1 .• ' ""'^"^ '""^^ ^^'^ 
 
 should do ary w th , . '" ' r- ^' '' """ '^'' ^« 
 
 adequate o JnTe tef /Zks'Tt ^' ^'^ /°^ ^"- 
 should allow the mo rnHf f ! ' '' *''"" "^^* ^^« 
 error the righ to Tone ' H "T'' '""^ 1"™'^ ^^> 
 
 its suffering! Nor le 'it 1 V^'f'^ '^ '"^^^^^^^'^ ^o 
 
 consumed in silent sorrow over the grave of ^v , 
 
 f.om the we";iit'rat v:,2'°if i5^:rjj"'5 
 
 of a broken heart if h.. I' ^^ ^^^ '^^^'^ 
 
 than she could bear" tkZ ^"'^"^^^f , ^/^ been more 
 
 have Justl, conrmnT;t; ITa^ nf ^ T'^'^ 
 heart, in its nitv fnr ih. • ^- ' ^^e human 
 
 -nation onLtrMT:ieTir'»'^" 
 
 THE END. 
 
 vith him through 
 sinia are closed, 
 
 le us if you are 
 f banishing from 
 oportion punish- 
 
: 
 
 
 ^^'. 4 . 
 
 
 i 1 V 
 
 
 ■ 1 1 'i 
 
 1 
 
 ■'^^ 
 
 i^\ 1 
 
 't \ 
 
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 TRANSLATED BY KATHARINE PRESCOTT WORMELEY, 
 Translator of Balzac's Novels. 
 
 IVitA Preface to Moliire's Works by Hanoi i de Balzac, Criticisms 
 on the Author by Sainte-Bcuve, Portraits by Coypel and Mignard, 
 and decorative Titlepages. 
 
 Arraaeement of tlie Flays. 
 The Misanthrope ; Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme. 
 Tartuffe; Les Pr^cieuses Ridicules; George Dandin. 
 Les Femmes Savantes ; Le Malade Imaginaire. 
 L'Avare ; Don Juan ; Les Fdcheux. 
 L'ficole des Femmes; L'Ecole des Maris; Monsieui 
 
 de Pourceaugnac. 
 L'£tourdi; Le Mariage Force; Le Medecin Malgri 
 
 Lui; La Critique de l'ficole des Femmes. 
 
 Vol. I. 
 
 Vol. n. 
 Vol. in. 
 
 Vol. IV. 
 Vol. V. 
 
 VoL VI. 
 
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 insight that has made her name famous among the lovers of high liter- 
 ature. While it is undoubtedly true that the student o* Molifere would 
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 now she continues by an equally excellent translation of the works of the 
 genius to whom is conceded with still greater unanimity the rank of 
 France's first dramatist. And by a happy thought 'Miss Wormeley avails 
 herself, for the presentation of Moli&re to American readers, of the elo- . 
 quent tribute which Balzac paid to him in his preface to his own edition 
 of Molifere, issued in his younger days. The translator also calls attention 
 to the singular parallel afforded in the lives of the two writers. These 
 "fathers of the 'Comedy of Human Life' and of rcaUsm," she says, "died 
 at the same age (fifty-one) ; the fame of both was of little mors than fifteen 
 years' duration in their lifetime; both died of the toil to which their genius 
 impelled them ; and both are going down with ever-brightening lustre to 
 posterity." — Boston, Budget. 
 
 l2mo. Half leather. Per yolome, $1.50. 
 
 Orders may be addressed to 
 
 LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY, 
 
 254 Washington Street, Boston. 
 
 i <tm%mm»- 
 
oliere. 
 
 'T VVORMELEY. 
 
 LS. 
 
 Balzac, Criticisms 
 lypel and MignarJ, 
 
 itilhomme. 
 George Dandin. 
 imaginaire. 
 
 Maris ; Monsieui 
 
 Medecin Malgr^ 
 itnmes. 
 
 English version of 
 of her recent trans- 
 nowledge, skill, and 
 lovers of high liter- 
 it o* Moliere would 
 It tliose who cannot 
 
 to Miss Wormeley 
 It to love Molifere is 
 ;11 as in ourselves," 
 
 admirable English 
 's first novelist, and 
 of the works of the 
 limity the rank of 
 iss Wormeley avails 
 readers, of the elo- . 
 e to his own edition 
 • also calls attention 
 wo writers. These 
 ni," she says, "died 
 le mors than fifteen 
 I which their genius 
 rightening lustre to 
 
 .50. 
 
 DMPANY, 
 
 TON.