As the summer advanced, a few stragglers came in, and it was no longer wonderful to see a stranger. But Mrs. Stafford and Miss Mowbray, perfectly satisfied with each other, sought not to enlarge their society. They sometimes held short conversations with the transient visitants of the place, but more usually avoided those walks where it was likely they should meet them. Early one morning, they were returning from the bathing place together, muffled up in their morning dresses. They had seen at a distance two gentlemen, whom they did not particularly notice; and Emmeline, leaning on the arm of her friend, was again anticipating all she should suffer when the hour came which would separate them, and recollecting the different company and conversation to which she had been condemned from the death of Mrs. Carey to her quitting Mowbray Castle-- 'You have not only taught me, my dear Mrs. Stafford,' said she, 'to dread more than ever being thrown back into such company; but you have also made me fear that I shall never relish the general conversation of the world. As I disliked the manners of an inferior description of people when I first knew them, because they did not resemble those of the dear good woman who brought me up; so I shall undoubtedly be disappointed and dissatisfied with the generality of those acquaintance I may meet with; for I am afraid there are as few Mrs. Staffords in your rank of life as there were Mrs. Careys in hers. However, there is no great likelihood, I believe, at present, of my being convinced how little they resemble you; for it is not probable I shall be taken from hence.' 'Perhaps,' answered Mrs. Stafford, 'you might be permitted to stay some months next winter with me. I shall pass the whole of it in the country; the greatest part of it probably alone; and such a companion would assist in charming away many of those hours, which now, tho' I have more resources than most people, sometimes are heavy and melancholy. My children are not yet old enough to be my companions; and I know not how it is, but I have often more pain than pleasure in being with them. When I remember, or when I feel, how little happiness there is in the world, I tremble for their future destiny; and in the excess of affection, regret having introduced them into a scene of so much pain as I have hitherto found it. But tell me, Emmeline, do you think if I apply to Lord Montreville he will allow you to pass some time with me?' 'Dear Madam,' said Emmeline, eagerly, 'what happiness do you offer me! Lord Montreville would certainly think me highly honoured by such an invitation.' 'Shall I answer for Lord Montreville,' said a voice behind them, 'as his immediate representative?' Emmeline started; and turning quickly, beheld Mr. Delamere and Fitz-Edward. Delamere caught her hands in his. 'Have I then found you, my lovely cousin?' cried he.--'Oh! happiness unexpected!'