'Ah! Madam!' said the colonel, throwing into his eyes and manner all that insinuation of which he was so perfect a master, 'is it possible, that with a countenance where softness and compassion seem to invite the unhappy to trust you with their sorrows, you have a cruel and unfeeling heart? Lay by for a moment your barbarous prudence, in favour of my unfortunate friend; upon my honour, nothing but the conviction that his life was at stake, would have induced me to accompany him hither; and I pledge myself for the propriety of his conduct. He only begs to be forgiven by Miss Mowbray for his improper treatment of her at Mowbray Castle; to be assured she is in health and safety; and to hear that she does not hate him for all the uneasiness he has given her; and having done so, he promises to return to his family. Upon my soul,' continued he, laying his hand upon his breast, 'I know not what would have been the consequence, had I not consented to assist him in deceiving his family and coming hither: but I have reason to think he would have made some wild attempt to secure to himself more frequent interviews with Miss Mowbray; and that a total disappointment of the project he had formed for seeing her, would have been attended with a violence of passion arising even to phrenzy.--Madness or death would perhaps have been the event.' Mrs. Stafford turned her eyes on Fitz-Edward, with a look sufficiently expressive of incredulity--'Does a modern man of fashion pretend to talk of madness and death? You certainly imagine, Sir, that you are speaking to some romantic inhabitant of a Welch provincial town, whose ideas are drawn from a circulating library, and confirmed by the conversation of the captain in quarters.' 'Ah, madam,' said he, 'I know not to whom I have the honour of addressing myself,' (though he knew perfectly well;) 'but I feel too certainly that madness and death would be preferable to the misery such coldness and cruelty as your's would inflict on me, was it my misfortune to love as violently as Delamere; and indeed I tremble, lest in endeavouring to assist my friend I have endangered myself.' Of this speech, Mrs. Stafford, who believed he did not know her, took very little notice; and turning towards Emmeline, who had in the mean time been listening in trembling apprehension to the ardent declarations of Delamere, said it was time to return home. Delamere, without attending to her hint, renewed his importunities for her friendship and interest with Miss Mowbray; to which, as soon as he would allow her to answer, she said very gravely--'Sir, as Miss Mowbray seems so much alarmed at your pursuing her hither, and as you must be yourself sensible of it's extreme impropriety, I hope you will not lengthen an interview which can only produce uneasiness for you both.' 'Let us go home, for heaven's sake!' whispered Emmeline. 'They are determined, you see, to follow us,' replied her friend; 'we will however go.'