'Stupid dog!--why should you care whether you meet him or no?' 'Because he must think it so strange that I am here with you.' 'Let him--Of what consequence is it to us what such a puppy thinks? I cannot possibly care about it.' 'But _I_ do, Mr. Delamere,' said Emmeline, somewhat gravely.--'You will recollect that I may be very much injured by the scandal such a man may circulate.' 'Well, well, my dear Emmeline--we will set out directly, and you will not meet him.--I will order the chaise.' He went out for that purpose as soon as their breakfast ended; but a few paces from the door was accosted by Elkerton, who feeling himself in point of figure equal to speak to any man, addressed him with all the confident familiarity of an old acquaintance. 'Sir, your most obedient humble servant.' 'Your servant, Sir;' replied Delamere, brushing by him. 'Sir, I hope you, and my Lord and Lady Montreville, have been well since I had last the honour of seeing you?' 'Since you oblige me, Sir, to acknowledge the acquaintance, I must remind you that our last meeting was attended with some circumstances which should make you not very desirous of recollecting it.' 'Oh, dear! very far from not wishing to remember it, I am always pleased with such agreeable badinage from my friends, and some how or other contrive to be even with them. Prithee, dear boy, whither are you going?--perhaps we are travelling the same road?' 'I hope not,' said Delamere, turning from him, and advancing towards the bar. Elkerton, unabashed, followed him. 'If we are,' continued he, 'I think you shall take me into your post-chaise. I am going to pass a month with a friend in Hampshire; and Jackman, who loves driving, tho' he knows nothing of the matter, persuaded me to use an open carriage; but it is so cold, that I believe I shall let him enjoy it alone the rest of the way. Suppose we go together, if your destination is the Winchester road?' Delamere was so provoked at this forwardness, that he found he should be unable to give a moderate answer.--He therefore turned away without giving any. 'Pray, Sir,' said the bar maid to Elkerton, 'who is that young gentleman?' 'Lord Montreville's son,' replied he; 'and one of the strangest fellows in the world.--Sometimes we are as intimate as brothers; and now you see he'll hardly speak to me.' 'Perhaps, Mr. Elkerton,' said the woman, smiling, 'the young gentleman may have very good reasons for not taking another companion in his post-chaise.' Elkerton pressed her to explain herself.