A day or two after, several of the neighbours, who had been invited, came to Arlingford. Mr. and Mrs. Benson were of course delighted on seeing the deference and court paid to their daughter; and the bustle occasioned by the visitors, the driving about in the morning, viewing the country, and returning visits, occupied Mrs. Benson’s time, if not her thoughts, so entirely, that she and Emmeline being seldom alone together, the latter was spared any more distressing conversations. At the end of about a week, Mr. Benson received letters which obliged him to return immediately to town on some mercantile business. “But,” said he, casting a doubtful, enquiring look on Lord Fitzhenry, “I need not carry off my good lady wife, if you will give her house-room a little longer, and I can perhaps return for her; or, at any rate, I think I may by this time trust her to travel alone, whatever other husbands may”—winking his eye at Emmeline. Lord Fitzhenry directly expressed great pleasure in Mrs. Benson prolonging her visit, and then, after a moment’s pause, added, “Indeed it will be particularly kind to Lady Fitzhenry if she will, for I myself shall be obliged to leave home in a day or two.” Emmeline gave a start, and involuntarily looked up towards her husband. For an instant their eyes met; but, as if by mutual consent, both were instantly withdrawn. “He catches at the first opportunity to leave me,” thought she. “Glad his penance is over.” Whither he was going, Fitzhenry never said, and Emmeline dared not ask; indeed, she hardly knew whether, during his absence, he would expect her to write to him; and therefore, if even under that pretext she could venture to enquire. On the day settled for his departure, when the carriage was ready at the door, he came into the drawing-room to take leave. Mrs. Benson was there with Emmeline. “If there come any letters for me,” said he, “I have desired Reynolds to send them to the house in town, and I shall leave word there to have them forwarded.” Still he said nothing about her writing to him. He staid some time in the room, seemingly uncertain what to do or say, or how to take leave of her. At length, apparently summoning courage for a disagreeable effort, he walked hastily up to Mrs. Benson, shook hands with her, came up to Emmeline and did the same, adding, in rather a low voice, “I shall be glad to hear from you;” and, not waiting for any answer, he hurried out of the room. It was the first time their hands had ever met since that morning after their marriage, when she had herself offered hers to Fitzhenry in token of forgiveness and goodwill. Since then, now nearly two months past, her sentiments towards him had taken a totally different character; her face blushed crimson; but he, whose slightest touch had thus thrilled to her heart, and had power to raise that blush, almost before the “eloquent blood” had reached her cheek, was already gone.