He answered, that 'he would reserve it for a _bon bouche_ after supper.' Then looking significantly at Emmeline, to say he understood and would oblige her, he strolled into the anti-room; Emmeline saying to him, as he passed her, that she would wait his return in the parlour below. Fitz-Edward disappeared; and Emmeline, in hopes of escaping observation, joined the party of some young ladies who were playing at a large table, and affected to enter into their conversation. But she really knew nothing that was passing; and as soon as they rose on finishing their game, she escaped in the bustle, and ran down into the parlour, where in five or six minutes Fitz-Edward found her. He wore a look of great concern; and laid down his hat as he came in, without seeming to know what he did. 'Have you seen Mr. Delamere, Sir?' said Emmeline. 'Seen him!' answered he; 'I have seen him; but to no manner of purpose; his intellects are certainly deranged; he raves like a madman, and absolutely refuses to leave the place till he has spoken to you.' 'Why will he not come in, then?' said Emmeline. 'Because,' said Fitz-Edward, 'Rochely is here, who will relate it to that meddling fellow, Sir Richard Crofts, and by that means it will get to his father. I said every thing likely to prevail on him to be more calm; but he will hear nothing. I know not what to do,' continued he, rising, and walking about the room. 'I am convinced he has something in his head of fatal consequence to himself. He protests he will stay all night where he is. In short, he is in an absolute frenzy with the idea of Rochely's success and his own despair.' 'You frighten me to death,' said Emmeline. 'Tell me, colonel, what ought I to do?' 'Go to him,' returned Fitz-Edward; 'speak to him only a moment, and I am persuaded he will be calm. I will go with you; and then there can be nothing wrong in it.' 'I _will_ go, then,' said she, rising and giving Fitz-Edward her hand, which trembled extremely. 'But it is very cold,' remarked he: 'had not you better take a cloak?' 'There is my long _pelisse_ in the back parlour,' answered she. Fitz-Edward fetched it, wrapt her in it, and led her down stairs; and by a garden door, they reached a sort of back stable-yard, where rubbish and stable-litter was usually thrown, and which opened into a bye-lane, where the garden-wall formed a sudden angle. Delamere received her with transport, which he tried to check; and reproached her for refusing to come down to him. Seizing the opportunity, as soon as he would give her leave to speak, she very forcibly represented to him the distress of his family at his absence, and the particular uneasiness it inflicted on his sister Augusta. 'I knew not,' said Delamere, 'that she was come home.' Emmeline told him she was, and related the purport of her letter, and again besought him to put an end to the uncertainty and anxiety of his family.