Vargrave, for my emotions would prejudice me despite myself. I may fancy
that her betrothed is not worthy of her,--but that is for her to decide.
While the bond lasts, who can be justified in tempting her to break it?"

Agreeably to these notions, which the world may, perhaps, consider
overstrained, whenever Maltravers met Evelyn, he intrenched himself in a
rigid and almost a chilling formality. How difficult this was with one
so simple and ingenuous! Poor Evelyn! she thought she had offended him;
she longed to ask him her offence,--perhaps, in her desire to rouse his
genius into exertion, she had touched some secret sore, some latent wound
of the memory? She recalled all their conversations again and again.
Ah, why could they not be renewed? Upon her fancy and her thoughts
Maltravers had made an impression not to be obliterated. She wrote more
frequently than ever to Lady Vargrave, and the name of Maltravers was
found in every page of her correspondence.

One evening, at the house of a neighbour, Miss Cameron (with the Mertons)
entered the room almost in the same instant as Maltravers. The party was
small, and so few had yet arrived that it was impossible for Maltravers,
without marked rudeness, to avoid his friends from the rectory; and Mrs.
Merton, placing herself next to Evelyn, graciously motioned to Maltravers
to occupy the third vacant seat on the sofa, of which she filled the
centre.

"We grudge all your improvements, Mr. Maltravers, since they cost us your
society. But we know that our dull circle must seem tame to one who has
seen so much. 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