The next morning, resolving if possible still to deceive her parents, and by assumed cheerfulness to do away the impression made upon their minds the preceding evening, poor Emmeline entered the breakfast-room with as composed a countenance as she could command, and even forced a smile, when, as in former days, she went up to her father to claim his parental kiss. Mr. Benson, however, did not raise his eyes towards her, or even return the pressure of her hand, but in silence pointed to the seat prepared for her. She looked at her mother, whose eyes were fixed on the table before her, and she saw that they were red with crying. Twice Emmeline endeavoured at conversation by making some remark on the weather, but no answer was given to her. Mr. Benson’s attention seemed entirely engrossed by the newspaper that lay beside him, his breakfast remaining untouched. Aware that something disagreeable must have happened from the disturbed appearance of her father and mother, a thousand vague but dreadful apprehensions soon took possession of Emmeline’s mind, and at last, unable any longer to endure the state of alarm and suspense into which her fears had thrown her, she suddenly seized her father’s arm, entreating him for pity’s sake to tell her what had so discomposed him, what had happened. “You, Lady Fitzhenry, can better inform _us_ of that,” he coldly said, as he put the paper into her hand, and pointed to the following paragraph: “A singular fracas took place at the Opera on Saturday night; not being yet informed of the particulars, we forbear making any reflections. As it is a double intrigue, and therefore neither party can complain, it is impossible to say how the affair may end. The _chère amie_ of the noble lord is well known in the fashionable world both _abroad_ and at _home_; and it is not perhaps surprising that the neglected wife should have _pris son parti_, and found a champion to espouse her cause. He is said to be in the _diplomatic_ line, and _of course_ a particular friend of the husband. One rumour states the injured wife to have eloped—another that a duel has taken place. Certain it is that two carriages with the F—z—y arms were seen to drive furiously out of Grosvenor-street at different hours and in different directions on Sunday afternoon.” Emmeline turned deadly pale as she read this cruel paragraph; but a still more ghastly hue spread itself over her mother’s face as she anxiously watched her daughter’s countenance, and fancied that in her emotion she read confession of guilt.