They dismounted, and giving their horses to their servants, joined them; Delamere reproaching Emmeline for the artifice she had used, yet congratulating himself on seeing her again. But his eyes eagerly running over her person, betrayed his extreme anxiety and concern at observing her pale and languid looks, and the lassitude of her whole frame. Fitz-Edward, in a whisper, made the same remarks on her appearance to Mrs. Stafford; who answered, 'that if Mr. Delamere persisted in pursuing her, she did not doubt but that it would end in her going into a decline.' 'Say rather,' answered Fitz-Edward artfully, 'that the interesting languor on the charming countenance of your friend, arises from the sensibility of her heart. She cannot surely see Delamere, dying for her as he is, without feeling some disposition to answer a passion so ardent and sincere: I know it is impossible she should. It is only your Stoic prudence, your cold and unfeeling bosom, which can arm itself against all the enthusiasm of love, all the tenderness of friendship. Miss Mowbray's heart is made of softer materials; and were it not for the inhuman reserve you have taught her, poor Delamere had long since met a more suitable return to an attachment, of which, almost any other woman would glory in being the object.' There was something in this speech particularly displeasing to Mrs. Stafford; who answered, 'that he could not pay her a compliment more gratifying, than when he told her she had been the means of saving Miss Mowbray from indiscretion; though she was well convinced, that her own excellent understanding, and purity of heart, made any monitor unnecessary.' 'However,' continued she, 'if you think that _my_ influence has prevented her entering into all the wild projects of Mr. Delamere, continue to believe, that while I am with her the same influence will invariably be exerted to the same purpose.' Delamere and Emmeline, who were a few paces before them while this dialogue was passing, were now met by Parkinson, the colonel's servant, who addressing himself to Delamere, told him that Lord Montreville and one of the young ladies were that moment alighted from their carriage at the inn, and had sent to his lodgings to enquire for him. Mrs. Stafford advancing, heard the intelligence, and looked anxiously at Emmeline, who turned paler than death at the thoughts of Lord Montreville. Delamere was alternately red and pale. He hesitated, and tried to flatter himself that Parkinson was mistaken; while Fitz-Edward, who found he should be awkwardly situated between the father and son, silently meditated his defence.