Ross saw in all this new reason to be alarmed: he no longer wondered at the progress this insinuating man had made in the affections of Ellen, and most earnestly did he wish that Mordaunt had never seen her, or had selected her for his wife. Yet even in that case there was something to consider: they knew nothing of Mordaunt but what he had told them. There was certainly something equivocal in the total retirement of such a man from the world: he might have been driven from it rather by his vices than by his misfortunes: yet there was in the appearance and manners of Mordaunt, an uprightness, a loftiness of carriage, that looked not like that of a man debased and bowed down by guilt. While Ross thus meditated, Mordaunt suddenly came in--his eyes sparkling, and his cheeks glowing: for hearing some one moving in the parlour, and having seen Powis in the fields at a distance, he concluded it could be no one but Ellen: his impatient step, extended hand, and pleased countenance, at once explained to Ross what his expectation had been. On seeing him, Mordaunt half started back, exclaiming, "I thought----" Then recovering himself, he again advanced, and offering his hand to Mr. Ross, said with much cordiality, "My dear Sir, I am glad to see you: it is sometime since we met." There was a charm in the voice and manner of Mordaunt that few could withstand, however unkindly disposed towards him. Ross, who had from the first felt pleased with him, although he now on Ellen's account was angry, yet could not prevail on himself to appear displeased; yet there was a coolness in his expression that was visible enough to so acute an observer as Mordaunt. Whatever was his motive, however, he chose not to notice it, but continued to speak with frankness and vivacity, inquiring for Mrs. Ross and Joanna. At last, glancing his eyes round the room, he said, "Are you alone this morning, my good Sir? Miss Powis, I learnt, slept at your house last night: I hope she is not ill?" Through all the assumed composure of his look, and affected indifference of his tone, Ross plainly saw that Mordaunt made this inquiry with real anxiety; but of the true motive of that anxiety he was extremely doubtful. He replied somewhat coldly, "Ellen is certainly not quite well, and Mrs. Ross thinks her _safest_ under her own _care at present_." This speech, which might to a guilty conscience have conveyed "more than met the ear," seemed to be literally interpreted by Mordaunt; and thrown off his guard, he evinced great agitation, while he exclaimed, "Safest! Good God! You do not surely apprehend any danger in her complaints?" "Not exactly that," said Ross (not displeased at his warmth), "but she has a bad cold; and Mrs. Ross has a high opinion of her own skill as a nurse: we shall therefore keep Ellen with us for a few days at least. If she should then not be better, I shall advise her father to let her change the air."