EVELYN.

I fancied it, and was deceived. Not an hour before I inherited this mighty wealth I confessed my love, and was rejected because I was poor. Now, mark: you remember the letter which Sharp gave me when the will was read?

GRAVES.

Perfectly; what were the contents?

EVELYN.

After hints, cautions, and admonitions-half in irony, half in earnest (ah, poor Mordaunt had known the world!), it proceeded but I'll read it to you:-"Having selected you as my heir, because I think money a trust to be placed where it seems likely to be best employed, I now—not_impose a condition, but ask a favour. If you have formed no other and insuperable attachment, I could wish to suggest your choice: my two nearest female relations are my niece Georgina, and my third cousin, Clara Douglas, the daughter of a once dear friend. If you could see in either of these one whom you could make your wife, such would be a marriage that, if I live long enough to return to England, I would seek to bring about before I die." My friend, this is not a legal condition-the fortune does not rest on it; yet, need I say that my gratitude considers it a moral obligation? Several months have elapsed since thus called upon-I ought now to decide: you hear the names-Clara Douglas is the woman who rejected me!

GRAVES.

But now she would accept you!

EVELYN.

And do you think I am so base a slave to passion, that I would owe to my gold what was denied to my affection?

GRAVES.

But you must choose one: in common gratitude, you ought to do so-yes, there you are right. Besides, you are constantly at the house-the world observes it: you must have raised hopes in one of the girls. Yes; it is time to decide between her whom you love and her whom you do not!

EVELYN.

Of the two, then, I would rather marry where I should exact the least. A marriage, to which each can bring sober esteem and calm regard, may not be happiness, but it may be content. But to marry one whom you could adore, and whose heart is closed to you-to yearn for the treasure, and only to claim the casket-to worship the statue that

you never may warm to life-Oh! such a marriage would be a hell, the more terrible because Paradise was in sight.

GRAVES.

Georgina is pretty, but vain and frivolous.-(Aside) But he has no right to be fastidious-he has never known Maria!-(Aloud) Yes, my dear friend, now I think on it, you will be as wretched as myself!-When you are married we will mingle our groans together.

EVELYN.

You may misjudge Georgina; she may have a nobler nature than appears on the surface. On the day, but before the hour, in which the will was read, a letter, in a strange or disguised hand, signed "From an unknown friend to Alfred Evelyn," and enclosing what to a girl would have been a considerable sum, was sent to a poor woman for whom I had implored charity, and whose address I had only given to Georgina.

GRAVES.

Why not assure yourself?

EVELYN.

Because I have not dared. For sometimes, against my reason, I have hoped that it might be Clara! (Taking a letter from his bosom and looking at it.) No, I can't recognise the hand. Graves, I detest that girl!

Who? Georgina?

GRAVES.

EVELYN.

No; Clara! But I've already, thank Heaven! taken some revenge upon her. Come nearer.-(Whispers) I've bribed Sharp to say that Mordaunt's letter to me contained a codicil leaving Clara Douglas 20,000l.

GRAVES.

And didn't it? How odd, then, not to have mentioned her in his will!

EVELYN.

One of his caprices: besides, Sir John wrote him word that Lady Franklin had adopted her. But I'm glad of it— I've paid the money-she's no more a dependant. No one can insult her now-she owes it all to me, and does not guess it, man-does not guess it!-owes it to me,―me whom she rejected;-me, the poor scholar!-Ha! ha!-there's some spite in that, eh?

GRAVES.

You're a fine fellow, Evelyn, and we understand each

other. Perhaps Clara may have seen the address, and dictated this letter after all!

EVELYN.

Do you think so?-I'll go to the house this instant!

GRAVES.

Eh? Humph! Then I'll go with you. That Lady Franklin is a fine woman! If she were not so gay, I think -I could

EVELYN.

No; no; don't think any such thing; women are even worse than men.

GRAVES.

True; to love is a boy's madness!

EVELYN.

To feel is to suffer.

GRAVES.

To hope is to be deceived.

EVELYN.

I have done with romance!

GRAVES.

Mine is buried with Maria!

EVELYN.

If Clara did but write this

GRAVES.

Make haste, or Lady Franklin will be out!-A vale of tears-a vale of tears!

EVELYN.

A vale of tears, indeed!

[Exeunt.

Re-enter GRAVES for his hat.

GRAVES.

And I left my hat behind me! Just like my luck! If I had been bred a hatter, little boys would have come into the world without heads."

[Exit.

SCENE IV.

Drawing-rooms at SIR JOHN VESEY's, as in Act I. Scene I. LADY FRANKLIN, CLARA, Servant.

LADY FRANKLIN.

Past two, and I have so many places to go to! Tell Philipps I want the carriage directly-instantly.

*For this melancholy jest Mr. Graves is indebted to a poor Italian poet.

SERVANT.

I beg pardon, my lady; Philipps told me to say the young horse had fallen lame, and could not be used to-day,

LADY FRANKLIN.

[Exit.

Well, on second thoughts, that is lucky; now I have an excuse for not making a great many tedious visits. I must borrow Sir John's horses for the ball to-night. Oh, Clara, you must see my new turban from Carson's-the prettiest thing in the world, and so becoming!

CLARA.

Ah, Lady Franklin, you'll be sorry-but-but

But what?

LADY FRANKLIN.

CLARA.

Such a misfortune! poor Smith is in tears-I promised to break it to you. Your little Charley had been writing his copy, and spilt the ink on the table; and Smith not secing it and taking out the turban to put in the pearls as you desired-she-she

LADY FRANKLIN.

Ha! ha! laid it on the table, and the ink spoilt it. Ha! ha!-how well I can fancy the face she made! Seriously, on the whole it is fortunate; for I think I look best, after all, in the black hat and feathers.

CLARA.

Dear Lady Franklin, you really have the sweetest temper!

LADY FRANKLIN.

I hope so-for it's the most becoming turban a woman can wear! Think of that when you marry. Oh, talking of marriage, I've certainly made a conquest of Mr. Graves.

CLARA.

Mr. Graves! I thought he was inconsolable!

LADY FRANKLIN.

For his sainted Maria! Poor man! not contented with plaguing him while she lived, she must needs haunt him now she is dead.

CLARA.

But why does he regret her?

LADY FRANKLIN.

Why? Because he has everything to make him happyeasy fortune, good health, respectable character. And since it is his delight to be miserable, he takes the only excuse the world will allow him. For the rest-it's the way

with widowers; that is, whenever they mean to marry again. But, my dear Clara, you seem absent — pale — unhappy tears, too?

Ever since Mr. Mordaunt left you 20,000l. every one admires you. Sir Frederick is desperately smitten.

Sir Frederick!

CLARA (with disdain).

LADY FRANKLIN.

Ah! Clara, be comforted-I know your secret: I am certain that Evelyn loves you.

CLARA.

He did-it is past now. He misconceived me when he was poor; and now he is rich, it is not for me to explain.

LADY FRANKLIN.

My dear child, happiness is too rare to be sacrificed to a scruple. Why does he come here so often?

Perhaps for Georgina!

CLARA.

[Enter SIR JOHN, and turns over the books, &c., on the table, as if to look for the newspaper.

LADY FRANKLIN.

Pooh! Georgina is my niece; she is handsome and accomplished-but her father's worldliness has spoilt her nature-she is not worthy of Evelyn! Behind the humour of his irony there is something noble-something that may yet be great. For his sake as well as yours let me at least

CLARA.

Recommend me to his pity? Ah, Lady Franklin! if he addressed me from dictation, I should again refuse him. No; if he cannot read my heart-if he will not seek to read it, let it break unknown.

LADY FRANKLIN.

:

You mistake me, my dear child let me only tell him that you dictated that letter-that you sent that money to his old nurse. Poor Clara! it was your little all. He will then know, at least, if avarice be your sin.

CLARA.

He would have guessed it, had his love been like mine.

LADY FRANKLIN.

Guessed it!-nonsense! The handwriting unknown to him-every reason to think it came from Georgina.