"I hope Miss," said Mrs. Wilson, who attended our heroine, "that you will dress yourself as well as you can." "And why" cried Delia, "do you desire that? I can see nobody, I can think of nothing, but my absent and anxious Damon." "Let us hope," replied the other, "that he is very well. But, Miss, we expect lord Thomas Villiers by dinner time." "Lord Thomas Villiers!" exclaimed Delia, in the extremest surprise. "Yes," cried Mrs. Wilson. "He is our landlord, and he always comes over once about this time of the year." "Alas," said Delia, "I can see nobody. But I had rather meet any person at this time, than lord Thomas Villiers." "Bless me, Miss! why I am sure he is a very good sort of a gentleman." "I dare say he is," cried Delia. "But indeed, and indeed, Mrs. Wilson, I cannot see him. Pray oblige me in this." "Law, well I cannot think what objection you can have! There must be something very particular in it." Such were the hints that Mrs. Wilson threw out for the satisfying of her curiosity, but Delia was not disposed to be more communicative. The good woman however, with the error of our heroine before her eyes, was determined not to commit a similar fault. Lord Thomas was therefore scarcely arrived, before she set open the flood gates of her eloquence, in describing the rescue, and the unrivalled beauty of the lady under her roof. His lordship had long had a misunderstanding with lord Martin upon the subject of their contiguous estates. As his temper was not the most gentle, nor his memory upon these subjects the most treacherous, he expressed his triumph in loud shouts, and repeated horse laughs, upon the recent defeat of his antagonist. Nothing however would content him but a sight of the lady. "That," said Mrs. Wilson, "my guess is too nice to consent to. You must know, she has a particular dislike to your lordship." "A dislike to me!" said the old gentleman, whose curiosity was now more inflamed than even "Will you be contented," said his kind hostess, "with a peep through the key hole!" and without waiting for an answer, she took him by the hand, and led him up stairs. "By my foul!" said his lordship, "she is the finest woman in the world. Devil take me, if I can contain myself," and he burst into the room. Lord Thomas advanced a few steps, and then stopping, clasped his hands; "Why she is an angel of a woman! And did Martin, that dirty scoundrel, think he could run away with you? Impudent, pot-bellied spider! Ah, if my son had fallen in love with such a woman as you, I could forgive him any thing." And seizing her hand he pressed it to his lips. "Forgive me, charmer," cried he, "I am an old fellow. I will do you no harm."