'Oh, we too had a rencontre with the philosopher and his charming friend,' said Major Douglas, 'and--but, Emma, do you tell the story.--'Sdeath!--Poor fellow!--Well, but we parted good friends,' added the kind-hearted Caledonian, dispersing a tear; while Emma, in simple but impressive language, related all that passed at Perpignan between themselves, Adeline, and Glenmurray; and concluded with saying, that, 'from the almost idolatrous respect with which Glenmurray spoke and apparently thought of Adeline, and from the account of her conduct and its motives, which he so fully detailed, she was convinced that, so far from being influenced by depravity in connecting herself with Glenmurray, Adeline was the victim of a romantic, absurd, and false conception of virtue; and she should have thought it her duty to have endeavoured, assisted by her sister, to have prevailed on her to renounce her opinions, and, by becoming the wife of Glenmurray, to restore to the society of her own sex, a woman formed to be its ornament and its example. 'Poor thing!' she added in a faltering voice, 'would that I knew her fate!' 'I can guess it, I tell you,' said Mrs Wallington. 'We had better drop the subject, madam,' replied Emma Douglas indignantly, 'as it is one that we shall never agree upon. If I supposed Miss Mowbray happy, I should feel for her, and feel interest sufficient in her fate to make me combat your prejudices concerning her; but now that she is perhaps afflicted, poor, friendless, and scorned, though unjustly, by every "virtuous she that knows her story," I cannot command my feelings when she is named with sarcastic respect, nor can I bear to hear an unhappy woman supposed to be plunged in the lowest depths of vice, whom I, on the contrary, believe to be at this moment atoning for the error of her judgment by a life of lonely penitence, or sunk perhaps already in the grave, the victim of a broken heart.' Colonel Mordaunt, affected and delighted, hung on Emma Douglas's words with breathless attention, resolving when she had ended her narration to begin his, and clear Adeline from the calumnies of Mrs Wallington and Miss Maynard: but after articulating with some difficulty--'Ladies,--I --Miss Douglas,--I--' he found that his feelings would not allow him to proceed: therefore, suddenly raising Emma's hand to his lips, imprinted on it a kiss, at once fervent and respectful, and, making a hasty bow, ran out of the house. Every one was astonished; but none so much as Emma Douglas. 'Why, Emma!' cried the major, 'who should have thought it? I verily believe you have turned Mordaunt's head;--I protest that he kissed your hand:--I suppose he will be here to-morrow, making proposals in form.' 'I wish he may!' exclaimed Mrs Douglas. 'It is not very likely, I think,' cried Miss Maynard. Mrs Wallington said nothing; but she fanned herself violently.