Maltravers spoke gravely, and the subject was changed. Lord Doltimore challenged Caroline to chess. They sat down, and Lord Doltimore arranged the pieces. "Sensible man, Mr. Maltravers," said the young lord; "but I don't hit it off with him: Vargrave is more agreeable. Don't you think so?" "Y-e-s." "Lord Vargrave is very kind to me,--I never remember any one being more so; got Legard that appointment solely because it would please me,--very friendly fellow! I mean to put myself under his wing next session!" "You could not do better, I'm sure," said Caroline; "he is so much looked up to; I dare say he will be prime minister one of these days." "I take the bishop:--do you think so really?--you are rather a politician?" "Oh, no; not much of that. But my father and my uncle are stanch politicians; gentlemen know so much more than ladies. We should always go by their opinions. I think 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 him. Glad you don't like politics,--great bore." "Why, so young, so connected as you are--" Caroline stopped short, and made a wrong move. "I wish we were going to Paris together, we should enjoy it so;" and Lord Doltimore's knight checked the tower and queen. Caroline coughed, and stretched her hand quickly to move. "Pardon me, you will lose the game if you do so!" and Doltimore placed his hand on hers, their eyes met, Caroline turned away, and Lord Doltimore settled his right collar. "And is it true? are you really going to leave us?" said Evelyn, and she felt very sad. But still the sadness might not be that of love,--she had felt sad after Legard had gone. "I do not think I shall long stay away," said Maltravers, trying to speak indifferently. "Burleigh has become more dear to me than it was in earlier youth; perhaps because I have made myself duties there: and in 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. But you will not go yet?" "Not yet--no. [Evelyn's spirits rose.] Have you read the book I sent you?" (It was one of De Stael's.) "Yes; but it disappoints me." "And why? It is eloquent." "But is it true? Is there so much melancholy in life? Are the affections so full of bitterness? For me, I am so happy when with those I love! When I am with my mother, the air seems more fragrant, the skies more blue: it is surely not affection, but the absence of it, that makes us melancholy." "Perhaps so; but if we had never known affection, 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?"