Alice, or the Mysteries — Book 11

								

Ferrers, but the gentleman insisted upon it that he had seen Mr. Ferrers
enter.  I was in the lodge at the moment, my lord, and I explained--"
"That Mr. Ferrers and Lord Vargrave are one and the same?  What sort of
looking person?"
"Thin and dark, my lord,--evidently a foreigner.  When I said that you
were now Lord Vargrave, he stared a moment, and said very abruptly that
he recollected it perfectly, and then he laughed and walked away."
"Did he not ask to see me?"
"No, my lord; he said he should take another opportunity.  He was a
strange-looking gentleman, and his clothes were threadbare."
"Ah, some troublesome petitioner.  Perhaps a Pole in distress!  Remember
I am never at home when he calls.  Shut the door.  To Lady Doltimore's."
Lumley's heart beat as he threw himself back,--he again felt the grip of
the madman at his throat.  He saw, at once, that Cesarini had dogged him;
he resolved the next morning to change his hotel, and to apply to the
police.  It was strange how sudden and keen a fear had entered the breast
of this callous and resolute man!
On arriving at Lady Doltimore's, he found Caroline alone in the
drawing-room.  It was a tete-a-tete that he by no means desired.
"Lord Vargrave," said Caroline, coldly, "I wished a short conversation
with you; and finding you did not come in the morning, I sent you a note
an hour ago.  Did you receive it?"
"No; I have been from home since six o'clock,--it is now nine."
"Well, then, Vargrave," said Caroline, with a compressed and writhing
lip, and turning very pale, "I tremble to tell you that I fear Doltimore
suspects.  He looked at me sternly this morning, and said, 'You seem
unhappy, madam; this marriage of Lord Vargrave's distresses you!'"
"I warned you how it would be,--your own selfishness will betray and ruin
you."
"Do not reproach me, man!" said Lady Doltimore, with great vehemence.
"From you at least I have a right to pity, to forbearance, to succour.  I
will not bear reproach from you."
"I reproach you for your own sake, for the faults you commit against
yourself; and I must say, Caroline, that after I had generously conquered
all selfish feeling, and assisted you to so desirable and even brilliant
a position, it is neither just nor high-minded in you to evince so
ungracious a reluctance to my taking the only step which can save me from
actual ruin.  But what does Doltimore suspect?  What ground has he for
suspicion, beyond that want of command of countenance which it is easy to
explain,--and which it is yet easier for a woman and a great lady [here
Lumley sneered] to acquire?"
"I know not; it has been put into his head.  Paris is so full of slander.
But, Vargrave--Lumley--I tremble, I shudder with terror, if ever
Doltimore should discover--"
"Pooh! pooh!  Our conduct at Paris has been most guarded, most discreet.
Doltimore is Self-conceit personified,--and Self-conceit is horn-eyed.  I
am about to leave Paris,--about to marry, from under your own roof; a