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 is 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." "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 she 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?" "No, madam." "Oh, you young 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 _me_! 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 handsomer? Miss Merton is the taller, but there is something fierce in her eyes. Don't you think so? By the by, I wish you joy,--you'll excuse _me_." "Wish me joy, madam?" "Oh, you are so close. Mr. Hare says he shall support you. You will have 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 the fair hand of Evelyn; and Evelyn, also, could not refuse. And now, as the crowd gathered round the red ropes, Maltravers had to undergo new exclamations at Evelyn's beauty and Vargrave's luck. Impatiently he turned from the spot, with that gnawing sickness of the heart which none but the jealous know. He longed to depart, yet dreaded to do so. It was the last time he should see Evelyn, perhaps for years; the last time he should see her as Miss Cameron!