"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 then but a child," said Caroline,--"a handsome, thoughtful face." "Did you think so, my dear? Fine eyes and teeth, certainly, 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--I--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." Evelyn tripped away to put on her bonnet, and the children ran after her, clapping their hands,--they could 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'm well enough," answered Caroline, rather peevishly; "but this place is so dull now; very provoking that Lady Elizabeth does not go to London this year." "My dear, it will be gayer, I hope, in July, when the races at Knaresdean begin; and Lord Vargrave has promised to come." "Has Lord Vargrave written to you lately?" "No, my dear." "Very odd." "Does Evelyn ever talk of him?" "Not much," said Caroline, rising and quitting the room. 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 gun from his very drawing-room. However, Sir John takes care not to molest him. On the other side, the Burleigh estates extend for some miles; indeed, Mr. Maltravers is the next great proprietor to my uncle in this part of the county. Very strange that he does not marry! There, now you can see the house."