 believe me--upon my honour I do _not_
know whither Mr. Delamere is gone--nor do I know that he has left
London.'

Lord Montreville could not but believe her. But while his fears were
relieved as to the elopement, they were awakened anew by the uncertainty
of what was become of his son, and what his motive could be for this
sudden disappearance.

He thought however the present opportunity of speaking to Emmeline of
his resolution was not to be neglected.

'However ignorant you may be, Miss Mowbray,' said he, 'of the reason of
his having quitted his lodgings, you are not to learn that his motive
for estranging himself from his family, and becoming a stranger to his
father's house, originates in his inconsiderate attachment to you.
Contrary to the assurances you gave me at Swansea, you have encouraged
this attachment; and, as I understand from Sir Richard Crofts, you
peremptorily and even rudely refuse the opportunity now offered you of
establishing yourself in rank and affluence, which no other young woman
would a moment hesitate to accept. Such a refusal cannot be owing to
mere caprice; nor could it possibly happen had you not determined, in
despite of every objection, and of bringing discord into my family, to
listen to that infatuated and rash young man.'

'Your Lordship does not treat me with your usual candour. I have
promised you, voluntarily promised you, not to marry Mr. Delamere
without your Lordship's consent. To prevent his coming here was out of
my power; but if I really aspired to the honour of which your Lordship
thinks me ambitious, _what_ has prevented me from engaging at once with
Mr. Delamere? who has, I own to you, pressed me repeatedly to elope. My
Lord, while I am treated with kindness and confidence, I can rely upon
my own resolution to deserve it; _but_ when your Lordship, on suspicion
or misrepresentation, is induced to withdraw that kindness and
confidence--why should _I_ make a point of honour, where _you_ no longer
seem to expect it?'

The truth of this answer, as well as it's spirit, at once hurt and
irritated Lord Montreville.

Determined to separate Emmeline from his son, he was mortified to be
forced to acknowledge in his own breast that she merited all his
affection, and angry that she should be in the right when he wished to
have found something to blame in her conduct. Pride and self-love seemed
to resent that a little weak girl should pretend to a sense of
rectitude, and a force
