Emmeline Part 11

F. DELAMERE.'

The maid was sent up with this billet to Emmeline; who, after a moment's consideration, determined to send it to Miss Delamere, and to tell her, in an envelope, how she was situated.

Having enclosed it therefore, and desired the maid to go with it without saying whither she was going, she bid her, as she went through the house, deliver to Mr. Delamere another note, which was as follows:

'Sir,

'Your request of an interview, I think myself obliged on every account to refuse. I am extremely sorry you determine to persevere in offering me proposals, to which, though they do me a very high and undeserved honour, I never ought to listen; and excuse me if I add, that I never will.

EMMELINE MOWBRAY.'

Emmeline had not before so positively expressed her rejection of Delamere's addresses. The peremptory stile, therefore, of this billet, added to his extreme vexation at being overtaken by his father, and the little hope that seemed to remain for him any way, operated altogether on his rash and pa.s.sionate disposition, and seemed to affect him with a temporary phrenzy. He stamped about the room, dashed his head against the wainscot, and seizing Mrs. Watkins by the arm, swore, with the most frightful vehemence, that he would see Miss Mowbray though death were in the way.

The woman concluding he was mad, screamed out to her husband, who descending from his chamber in astonishment, put himself between his wife and the stranger, demanding his business?

'Alack-a-day!' cried Mrs. Watkins, 'tis the young Lord. He is gone mad, to be sure, for the love of Miss up stairs!'

Emmeline, who in so small a house could not avoid hearing all that pa.s.sed, now thought it better to go down; for she knew enough of Delamere to fear that the effects of his fit of pa.s.sion might be very serious; and was certain that nothing could be more improper than so much confusion.

She therefore descended the stairs, with trembling feet, and entered Mrs. Watkins's parlour; where she saw Delamere, his eyes flashing fire and his hands clenched, storming round the room, while Watkins followed him, and bowing in his awkward way, 'begged his Honour would only please to be pacified.'

There was something so terrifying in the wild looks of the young man, that Emmeline having only half opened the door, retreated again from it, and was hastening away. But Delamere had seen her; and darting out after her, caught her before she could escape out of the pa.s.sage, and she was compelled to return into the room with him; where, on condition of his being more composed, she agreed to sit down and listen to him.

Watkins and his wife having left the room, Delamere again renewed his solicitations for a Scottish expedition. 'However averse,' said he, 'my father and mother may at present be to our marriage, I know they will be immediately reconciled when it is irrevocable. But if you continue to harden your heart against me, of what advantage will it be to them?

Their ambition will still suffer; for I here swear by all that is sacred, that then I never will marry at all; and by my dying without posterity, their views will for ever be abortive, and their projects disappointed.'

To this, and every other argument Delamere used, Emmeline answered, 'that having determined never to accept of his hand, situated as she at present was, nothing should induce her to break through a determination which alone could secure her the approbation of her own heart.'

He then asked her, 'whether, if the consent of Lord and Lady Montreville could be obtained, she would continue averse to him?'

This question she evaded, by saying, 'that it was to no purpose to consider how she should act in an event so unlikely to happen.'

He then again exerted all the eloquence which love rather than reason lent him. But Emmeline combated his arguments with those of rect.i.tude and honour, by which she was resolutely bent to abide.

This steadiness, originating from principles he could not controvert or deny, seemed, while it shewed him all its hopelessness, to give new force to his pa.s.sion. He became again almost frantic, and was anew acting the part of a madman, when Mrs. Stafford and Miss Delamere entered the house, and enquiring for Miss Mowbray, were shewn into the room where she was with Delamere; who, almost exhausted by the violence of those emotions he had so boundlessly indulged, had now thrown himself into a chair, with his head leaning against the wainscot; his hair was dishevelled, his eyes swoln, and his countenance expressed so much pa.s.sionate sorrow, that Augusta Delamere, extremely shocked, feared to speak to him; while Emmeline, on the opposite side of the room, sat with her handkerchief to her eyes; and as soon as she saw Mrs. Stafford, she threw herself into her arms and sobbed aloud.

Delamere looked at Mrs. Stafford and his sister, but spoke to neither; till Augusta approaching him, would have taken his hand; but he turned from her.

'Oh, Frederic!' cried she, 'I beseech you to consider the consequence of all this.'

'I consider nothing!' said he, starting up and going to the window.

His sister followed him.

'Go, go,' said he, turning angrily from her--'Go, leave me, leave me!

a.s.sist Lord Montreville to destroy his only son! go, and be a party in the cruel policy that will make you and f.a.n.n.y heiresses!'

The poor girl, who really loved her brother better than any thing on earth, was quite overwhelmed by this speech; and her tears now flowed as fast as those of Emmeline, who continued to weep on the bosom of Mrs.

Stafford.

Delamere looked at them both with a stern and angry countenance; then suddenly catching his sister by the hand, which he eagerly grasped, he said, in a low but resolute voice--'Tears, Augusta, are of no use. Do not lament me, but try to help me. I am now going out for the whole day; for I will not see my father only to repeat to him what I have already said. Before I return, see what you can do towards persuading him to consent to my marriage with Miss Mowbray; for be a.s.sured that if he does not, the next meeting, in which I expect his answer, will be the last we shall have.'

He then s.n.a.t.c.hed up his hat, and disengaging himself from his sister, who attempted to detain him, he went hastily out of the house; leaving Mrs. Stafford, Miss Mowbray, and his sister, under great uneasiness and alarm.

They thought it necessary immediately to inform Lord Montreville of the whole conversation, and Miss Delamere dispatched a note to Fitz-Edward, desiring him to attend to the motions of his friend.

Fitz-Edward was at breakfast with Lord Montreville; who took the first opportunity of their being alone, to reproach him with some severity for what he had done.

The Colonel heard him with great serenity; and then began to justify himself, by a.s.suring his Lordship that he had accompanied Delamere only in hopes of being able to detach him from his pursuit, and because he thought it preferable to his being left wholly to himself. He declared that he meant to have given Lord Montreville information, if there had appeared the least probability of Delamere's marriage; but that being perfectly convinced, from the character of Emmeline, that there was nothing to apprehend, he had every day hoped his friend would have quitted a project in which there seemed not the least likelihood of success, and would have returned to his family cured of his pa.s.sion.

Though this was not all strictly true, Fitz-Edward possessed a sort of plausible and insinuating eloquence, which hardly ever failed of removing every impression, however strong, against him; and Lord Montreville was conversing with him with his usual confidence and friendship, when the note from Miss Delamere was brought in.

His Lordship, ever anxious for his son, gazed eagerly at it while Fitz-Edward read it; and trembling, asked from whom it came?

Fitz-Edward put it into his hand; and having ran it over in breathless terror, his Lordship hurried out, directing all his servants to go several ways in search of Delamere; while he entreated Fitz-Edward to run to whatever place he was likely to be in; and went himself to Mrs.

Stafford's lodging, who was by this time returned home.

What he heard from her of the scene of the morning, contributed to encrease his alarm. The image of his son in all the wildness of ungovernable pa.s.sion, shook his nerves so much, that he seemed ready to faint, yet unable to move to enquire where he was. As he could attend to nothing else, Mrs. Stafford told him how anxiously she had thought of a situation for Emmeline, and that she believed she had at length found one that would do, 'if,' said she, 'your Lordship cannot prevail on him to quit Swansea, which I think you had better attempt, though from the scene of this morning I own I despair of it more than ever.

'The person with whom I hope to be able to place Miss Mowbray is Mrs.

Ashwood, the sister of Mr. Stafford. She has been two years a widow, with three children, and resides at a village near London. She has a very good fortune; and would be happy to have with her such a companion as Miss Mowbray, 'till I am so fortunate as to be enabled to take her myself. As her connections and acquaintance lie in a different set of people, and in a remote part of the country from those of Mr. Delamere, it is improbable, that with the precaution we shall take, he will ever discover her residence.'

Lord Montreville expressed his sense of Mrs. Stafford's kindness in the warmest terms. He a.s.sured her that he should never forget the friendly part she had taken, and that if ever it was in his power to shew his grat.i.tude by being so happy as to have the ability to serve her or her family, he should consider it as the most fortunate event of his life.

Mrs. Stafford heard this as matter of course; and would have felt great compa.s.sion for Lord Montreville, whose state of mind was truly deplorable, but she reflected that he had really been the author of his own misery: first, by bringing up his son in a manner that had given such boundless scope to his pa.s.sions; and now, by refusing to gratify him in marrying a young woman, who was, in the eye of unprejudiced reason, so perfectly unexceptionable. She advised him to try once more to prevail on his son to leave Swansea with him; and he left her to enquire whether Fitz-Edward had yet found Delamere, whose absence gave him the most cruel uneasiness.

Fitz-Edward, after a long search, had overtaken Delamere on an unfrequented common, about a mile from the town, where he was walking with a quick pace; and seeing Fitz-Edward, endeavoured to escape him.

But when he found he could not avoid him, he turned fiercely towards him--'Why do you follow me, Sir? Is it not enough that you have broken through the ties of honour and friendship in betraying me to my father?

must you still persecute me with your insidious friendship?'

Fitz-Edward heard him with great coolness; and without much difficulty convinced him that Miss Mowbray herself had given the information to Lord Montreville by means of Mrs. Stafford.

This conviction, while it added to the pain and mortification of Delamere, greatly reconciled him to Fitz-Edward, whom he had before suspected; and after a long conversation, which Fitz-Edward so managed as to regain some degree of power over the pa.s.sions of his impetuous friend, he persuaded him to go and dine with Lord Montreville; having first undertaken for his Lordship that nothing should be said on the subject which occupied the thoughts of the father; on which condition only the son consented to meet him.

CHAPTER XI

Notwithstanding the steadiness Emmeline had hitherto shewn in rejecting the clandestine addresses of Delamere, he still hoped they would succeed. A degree of vanity, pardonable in a young man possessing so many advantages of person and fortune, made him trust to those advantages, and to his unwearied a.s.siduity, to conquer her reluctance.

He determined therefore to persevere; and did not imagine it was likely he could again lose sight of her by a stratagem, against which he was now on his guard.

As he fancied Lord Montreville and his sister designed to carry her with them when they went, he kept a constant eye on their motions, and set his own servant, and Fitz-Edward's valet, to watch the servants of Lord Montreville.

Fitz-Edward, who had been so near losing the confidence of both the father and son, found it expedient to observe a neutrality, which it required all his address to support; being constantly appealed to by them both.