At length, however, Mrs. Brackley, her Ladyship's woman, was heard speaking aloud to a footman--Walter, tell that young woman she may be admitted to see my Lady, and shew her up. Walter delivered his message; and the trembling Emmeline with some difficulty followed him. She entered the dressing-room. Her Ladyship, in a morning dress, sat at a table, on which was a salver with coffee. Her back was to the door, where stood Mrs. Brackley; who, as Emmeline, hesitating, seemed ready to shrink back, said, with a sort of condescending nod, 'There, you may go in, Miss.' Emmeline entered; but did not advance. Lady Montreville, without rising or speaking, turned her head, and looked at her with a scowling and disdainful countenance. 'Humph!' said she, looking at her eldest daughter, who sat by the fire with a newspaper in her hand--'humph!' as much as to say, I see no such great beauty in this creature. Miss Delamere, whose countenance wore a sort of disdainful sneer, smiled in answer to her mother's humph! and said, 'Would you have her sit down, Madam?' 'Aye,' said Lady Montreville, turning again her head towards Emmeline--'You may sit down.' There was a sofa near the door. Emmeline, hardly able to stand, went to it. A silence ensued. Lady Montreville sipped her coffee; and Miss Delamere seemed intent upon the newspaper. 'So!' cried her Ladyship, 'my son has absented himself! Upon my word, Miss What-d'ye-call-it, (for Mowbray I don't allow that your name is) you have a great deal to answer for. Pray what amends can you ever hope to make to my Lord, and me, for the trouble you have been the cause of?' 'I sincerely lament it, Madam,' answered Emmeline, forcing herself to speak; 'and do assure you it has been on my part involuntary.' 'Oh, no doubt on't. Your wonderful beauty is the fatal cause. You have used no art, I dare say; no pretty finesse, learned from novels, to inveigle a silly boy to his undoing.' 'If I had been disposed, Madam, to take advantage of Mr. Delamere's unhappy partiality for me--'