Emmeline, as has before been stated, was remarkably young and innocent for her age; she had been brought up in the idea that Lord Fitzhenry was to be her husband; and, although without any very decided preference for him, and with a heart perfectly free, she had looked to her marriage as to a thing of course, and as to an event that was to secure her happiness. His indifference, however, had not escaped her observation; and, her cheek reddening with offended pride, she mentioned it to her father, when, breathless with delight, he came to announce to her that Lord Fitzhenry claimed her as his bride. Mr. Benson ridiculed what he called her conceit, her romance; exaggerated into compliments many a simply _civil_ thing which Fitzhenry had, or possibly had _not_, said of her; set forth all the advantages of the marriage; used every argument which he knew her affectionate deference to him would give weight to; even hinted at his word being pledged, till he succeeded at last in silencing her doubts and scruples. The good and pious Mrs. Benson too was not quite free from worldly vanities; she told herself, and she told Emmeline, that so good a son must make a good husband; that it would be such a comfort to see her settled in life with one whom she had known since a boy, and of whom she knew so much good. At last, with something between a smile and a sigh, Emmeline gave her consent, and all was thus finally arranged: Seven thousand a-year was firmly settled on Lord Fitzhenry, and the residue of Mr. Benson’s immense property promised at his death. He added likewise a _few thousands_ of ready money for plate, jewels, equipages, &c.; “in order,” as he said, “to set the young people a-going.” Every one was satisfied but poor Ernest. To his feelings, all this was hateful; and he was doubly shocked when he found, during the legal details into which he had now to enter, that Arlingford Hall, the abode of his childhood, although it had been long in the family, yet from not being entailed like the rest of the property, had only been saved by Mr. Benson’s liberality; and, that in the involved perplexity of his father’s affairs and the urgency of his creditors, all the expenses of his late election had been defrayed from the same source. Sick at heart, as soon as he could extricate himself from lawyers and papers, Ernest signified his intention of leaving town, in order, as he let it be understood, to superintend the repairs at Arlingford, but, in fact, to fly to Lady Florence, who was still in the country. It was their first meeting since his marriage had been declared; and with an unprincipled, impassioned woman, he had to undergo scenes still more agonizing than those with his father.