Chapter XVI

As soon as there was any probability of Emmeline's being visible the next morning, Delamere was at Clapham.

The servant of whom he enquired for her, told him, that Miss Mowbray had not yet rung her bell, and that as it was later than her usual hour, she was afraid it was owing to her being ill.

Alarmed at this intelligence, Delamere eagerly questioned her further; and learned that the preceding morning, a gentleman who had never been there before, had been to see Miss Mowbray, and had staid with her about three quarters of an hour, during which he had talked very loud; and that after he was gone, she had hastened to her own room, crying sadly, and had seemed very much vexed the whole day afterwards. That when she went to bed, which was early in the evening, she had sighed bitterly, and said she was not well. The servants, won by the sweetness and humanity with which Emmeline treated them, all seemed to consider her health and happiness as their own concern; and the girl who delivered this intelligence to Delamere, had been very much about her, and knowing her better, loved her more than the others.

Delamere could not doubt the truth of this account; yet he could not conjecture who the stranger could be, in whose power it was thus to distress Emmeline. But dreading lest some scheme was in agitation to take her from him, he sat in insupportable anxiety 'till she should summons the maid.

Her music book lay open on a _piano forte_ in the breakfast parlour. A song which he had a few days before desired her to learn, as being one which particularly charmed him, seemed to have been just copied into it, and he fancied the notes and the writing were executed with more than her usual elegance. Under it was a little _porte feuille_ of red morocco. Delamere took it up. It was untied; and two or three small tinted drawings fell out. He saw the likeness of Mrs. Stafford, done from memory; one yet more striking of his sister Augusta; and two or three unfinished resemblances of persons he did not know, touched with less spirit than the other two. A piece of silver paper doubled together enclosed another; he opened it--it was a drawing of himself, done with a pencil, and slightly tinged with a crayon; strikingly like; but it seemed unfinished, and somewhat effaced.

Though among so many other portraits, this could not be considered as a very flattering distinction, Delamere, on seeing it, was not master of his transports. He now believed Emmeline (whom he could never induce to own that her partiality for him exceeded the bounds of friendship) yet cherished in her heart a passion she would not avow.

While he was indulging these sanguine and delicious hopes, he heard a bell ring, and flew to enquire if it was that of Emmeline?

The maid, who crossed the hall to attend it's summons, told him it was. He stepped softly up stairs behind the servant, and waited at the door of the chamber while she went in.

To the question, from the maid, 'how she did?' Emmeline answered, 'much better.'

'Mr. Delamere is here, Madam, and begs to know whether he may see you?'

Emmeline had expected him all the day before, and was not at all surprised at his coming now. But she knew not what she should say to him. To dissimulate was to her almost impossible; yet to tell him what had passed between her and Sir Richard Crofts was to create dissentions of the most alarming nature between him and his father; for she knew Delamere would immediately and warmly resent the harshness of Lord Montreville.

She could not however determine to avoid seeing Delamere; and she thought his Lordship was not entitled to much consideration, after the indelicate and needless shock he had given her, by employing the peremptory, insolent, and unfeeling Sir Richard Crofts.

After a moment's hesitation, she told Nanny to let Mr. Delamere know that as soon as she was dressed she would be with him in the parlour.

Delamere, who heard the message, stepped softly down stairs, replaced the drawings, and waited the entrance of Emmeline; who neither requiring or accustoming herself to borrow any advantage from art or ornament, was soon dressed in her usual simple undress.

But to give some appearance of truth to what she intended to alledge, a cold, in excuse for her swollen eyes and languid looks, she wrapt a gauze hood over her head, and tied a black ribband round her throat; for tho' she could not wholly conceal the truth from Delamere, she wished to prevent his seeing how much it had affected her.

When she entered the room, Delamere, who was at the door to meet her, was astonished at the alteration he saw in her countenance.

'You are ill, Emmeline?' said he, taking her hand.

'I am not quite well--I have a violent cold coming.'

'A cold?' eagerly answered Delamere, 'you have been crying--who was the person who called on you yesterday?'

It was now in vain to attempt concealment if she had intended it.

'He did not tell me his name, for our conversation was very short; but his servants told those of Mrs. Ashwood that his name is Sir Richard Crofts.'

'And what business could Sir Richard Crofts possibly have with you?'

Emmeline related the conversation with great fidelity and without comment.

Delamere had hardly patience to hear her out. He protested he would immediately go to Sir Richard Crofts, and not only force him to apologize for what had passed, but promise never again to interfere between Lord Montreville and his family.

From executing this violent measure, Emmeline by earnest entreaty diverted him. She had not yet recovered the shock given her by the unwelcome interview of the preceding day; and though she had a very excellent constitution, her sensibility of mind was so great, that when she suffered any poignant uneasiness, it immediately affected her frame. In the present state of her spirits, she could not hear Delamere's vehement and passionate exclamations without tears; and when he saw how much she was hurt, he commanded himself; spoke more calmly; and by a rapid transition from rage to tenderness, he wept also, and bathed her hands with his tears.

He was not without hopes that this last effort of Lord Montreville would effect a change in his favour; and he pleaded again for an elopement with the warmest eloquence of love.

But Emmeline, though she felt all the force of his arguments, had still the courage to resist them; and all he could obtain from her was a renewal of her former promise, neither to leave Mrs. Ashwood unknown to him or to conceal the place of her residence; to consent to see him wherever she should be, and positively to reject Mr. Rochely's offer.

In return, she expected from Delamere some concessions which nothing but the sight of her uneasiness would have induced him to grant. At length she persuaded him to promise that he would not insult Sir Richard Crofts, or commit any other rashness which might irritate Lord Montreville.

Nothing was a stronger proof of the deep root which his passion had taken in his heart, than the influence Emmeline had obtained over his ungovernable and violent spirit, hitherto unused to controul, and accustomed from his infancy to exert over his own family the most boundless despotism.

Emmeline, tranquillized and consoled by his promises, then entreated him to go; as the state of Mrs. Ashwood's family made visitors improper. In this, too, he obeyed her. And as soon as he was gone, Emmeline sat down to write to Mrs. Stafford, related briefly what had lately happened, and told her, that as soon as Lord Montreville could be induced to settle some yearly sum for her support, (which notwithstanding his threats she still thought he would do, on condition of her engaging never, without his consent, to marry Delamere,) she would set out for Woodfield.

Lord Montreville, absorbed in politics and in a negociation with ministry, had, on the evening when he and his son were at Lord Dornock's, forgotten the impatient temper and particular situation of Delamere. His non appearance at supper occasioned an enquiry, and it was found he had left the house. It was too late for Lord Montreville to follow him that night, and would, indeed, have been useless; but early the next morning he was in Berkley-square, where he heard nothing of his son.

He received a letter from Sir Richard Crofts, relating the ill success of his embassy; but adding, that he would bring Rochely to his Lordship the next day, to consider together what was next to be done. A letter also soon after arrived from Lady Montreville, to let his Lordship know that herself and her daughter, with Lady Mary and Miss Otley, were coming to town the next evening.

Delamere, the tumult of whose spirits was too great immediately to subside, took, for the first time in his life, some pains to conquer their violence, in consideration of Emmeline.

He sent his servants to Berkley-square, to enquire among the domestics what had passed. He thence learned that his father had returned in the morning from Lord Dornock's in very ill humour, and that his mother was expected in town. An interview with either, would, he was conscious, only be the occasion of that dissention he had promised Emmeline to avoid. His mother, he knew, came to town determined to keep no terms with him; and that she would incessantly harrass him with reproaches or teize him with entreaties. He therefore determined to avoid entirely all conversation with both; and after a short reflection on the best means to do so, he ordered Millefleur to discharge the lodgings; told him and his other two servants that he was going out of town, and should not take either them or his horses; therefore would have them go to Berkley-square, and wait there his return. He bade his valet tell Lord Montreville that he should be absent ten days or a fortnight. Then ordering an hackney coach, he directed it to drive to Westminster Bridge, as if he meant there to take post: instead of which he dismissed it at the end of Bridge-street; and walking over to the Surry side, he presently provided himself with lodgings under the name of Mr. Oswald, a gentleman just come from Ireland; and all traces of Mr. Delamere were lost.

END OF THE FIRST VOLUME

VOLUME II