'It is in your power,' resumed he, 'not only to place yourself above all fear of such desertion, but to engage my affection and that of my whole family. You will be in a situation of life which I should hardly refuse for one of the Miss Delameres. You will possess the most unbounded affluence, and a husband who adores you. A man unexceptionable in character; of a mature age; and whose immense fortune is every day encreasing. You will be considered by me, and by Lady Montreville, as a daughter of the house of Mowbray. The blemish of your birth will be wiped off and forgotten.' Emmeline wept more than before. And his Lordship continued, 'If you absurdly refuse an offer so infinitely above your expectations, I shall consider myself as having more than done my duty in putting it in your way; and that your folly and imprudence dissolve all obligation on my part. You must no longer call yourself Mowbray; and you must forget that you ever were allowed to be numbered among the relations of my family. Nor shall I think myself obliged in any manner to provide for a person, who in scorn of gratitude, prudence and reputation, throws from her an opportunity of providing for herself.' Emmeline regained some degree of resolution. She looked up, her eyes streaming with tears, and said, 'Well, my Lord! to the lowest indigence I must then submit; for to marry Mr. Rochely is not in my power.' 'We will suppose for a moment,' resumed Lord Montreville, 'that you could realize the visionary hopes you have presumed to indulge of uniting yourself to Mr. Delamere. Dear as he is to me and his mother, we are determined from that moment to renounce him--never shall the rebellious son who has dared to disobey us, be again admitted to our presence!--never will we acknowledge as his wife, a person forced upon us and introduced into our family in despite of our commands, and in violation of duty, honour, and affection. _You_ will be the occasion of his being loaded with the curses of both his parents, and of introducing misery and discord into his family. Can you yourself be happy under such circumstances? In point of fortune too you will find yourself deceived--while _we_ live, Mr. Delamere can have but a very slender income; and of every thing in our power we shall certainly deprive him, both while we live, and at our decease. Consider well what I have said; and make use of your reason. Begin by giving up to me the ridiculous witnesses of a ridiculous and boyish passion, which must be no longer indulged; to keep a picture of Delamere is discreditable and indelicate--you will not refuse to relinquish it?'