looked, a shade came over her forehead, and she sighed,
and closed the lid.
"No, Margaret, I do not want it; take it away."
"Oh, dear, miss! what would my lord say if he were down! And they
are so beautiful! they will look so fine! Deary me, how they sparkle!
But you will wear much finer when you 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 arrest 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; he condescends to seek to please. It was the
wish of my 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
heard on the gravel; she started up, wiped the tears from her eyes, and
hurried down to welcome the expected guests.
CHAPTER V.
TELL me, Sophy, my dear, what do you think of our new visitors?
Vicar of Wakefield.
MRS. MERTON and her daughter were already in the middle
drawing-room, seated on either side of Mrs. Leslie,--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 fashion. The rich bonnet
of the large shape then worn; the Chantilly veil; the gay French
Cachemire; the full sleeves, at that time the unnatural rage; the
expensive yet unassuming robe de soie; the perfect chaussure; the air
of society, the easy manner, the tranquil but scrutinizing gaze,--all
startled, discomposed, and half-frightened Evelyn.
Miss Merton herself, if more at her ease, was equally surprised by the
beauty and unconscious grace of the young fairy before her, and rose to
greet her with 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, the mother and daughter
detected at a glance the care that had provided for their comforts; and
something eager and expectant in Evelyn's eyes taught the good-nature
of the one and the good breeding of the other to reward their young
hostess by various little exclamations of pleasure and satisfaction.
"Dear, how nice! What a pretty writing-desk!" said one--"And the
pretty goldfish!" said the other--"And the piano, too, so well placed;"
and Caroline's fair fingers ran rapidly over the keys. Evelyn retired,
covered with smiles and blushes. And then Mrs. Merton permitted
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 the condemned flowers. "And I see no
Pysche. However, the poor people have done their best."
"Sweet person, Lady Vargrave!" said Mrs. Merton,--"so interesting, so
beautiful; and how youthful in appearance!"
"No tournure--not much the manner of the world," said Caroline.
"No; but something better."
"Hem!" 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?"
"I never saw him; they say, most fascinating."
"Well, she is very happy," said Caroline, with a sigh.
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. Merton, 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?"
"Yes, a little."
"From Nature?"
"Oh,
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