'Yes,' observed Mrs Wallington; 'or, rather, I dare say that angel of purity is gone upon the town.'

It was the dark hour, else Colonel Mordaunt's agitation, on hearing these gross and unjust remarks, must have betrayed his secret to every eye; while indignation now impeded his utterance as much as confusion had done before.

'Surely, surely,' cried the kind and candid Emma Douglas, 'I must grossly have mistaken Miss Mowbray's character, if she was capable of the conduct which you attribute to her!'

'My dear creature!' replied Mrs Wallington, 'how should you know any thing of her character, when it was gone long before you knew her?--_Character_, indeed! you remind me of my brother--Mr Davenport,'

continued she to a gentleman present, 'did you ever hear the story of my brother and an angel of purity whom he met with abroad?'

'No--never.'

'Be quiet,' said Maynard; 'I will not be laughed at.'

However, Mrs Wallington and Miss Maynard, who had not yet forgiven the deep impression which Adeline's graces had made on their brother, insisted on telling the story; to which Colonel Mordaunt listened with eager and anxious curiosity. It received all the embellishments which female malice could give it; and if it amused any one, certainly that person was neither Mordaunt, nor Emma Douglas, nor her gentle sister.

'But how fortunate it was,' added Miss Maynard, 'that we were not with my brother! as we should unavoidably have walked and talked with this angel.'

Mordaunt longed to say, 'I think the good fortune was all on Miss Mowbray's side.'

But Adeline and her cause were in good hands: Emma Douglas stood forth as her champion.--'We feel very differently on that subject,' she replied. 'I shall ever regret, not that I saw and conversed with Miss Mowbray, but that I did not see and converse with her again and again.'

At this moment Emma was standing by Colonel Mordaunt, who involuntarily caught her hand and pressed it eagerly; but tried to disguise his motives by suddenly seating her in a chair behind her, saying, 'You had better sit down; I am sure you must be tired with standing so long.'

'No; really, Emma,' cried Major Douglas, 'you go too far there; though to be sure, if by seeing and conversing with Miss Mowbray you could have convinced her of her errors, I should not have objected to your seeing her once more or so.'

'Surely,' said Mrs Douglas timidly, 'we ought, my love, to have repeated our visits till we had made a convert of her.'

'A _convert_ of her!' exclaimed Mr Maynard's sisters, 'a convert of a kept mistress!' bursting into a violent laugh, which had a most painful effect on the irritable nerves of Colonel Mordaunt, whose tongue, parched with emotion, cleaved to the roof of his mouth whenever he attempted to speak.

'Pray, to what other circ.u.mstance, yet untold, do you allude?' said Mr Davenport.

'Oh, we too had a rencontre with the philosopher and his charming friend,' said Major Douglas, 'and--but, Emma, do you tell the story.--'Sdeath!--Poor fellow!--Well, but we parted good friends,' added the kind-hearted Caledonian, dispersing a tear; while Emma, in simple but impressive language, related all that pa.s.sed at Perpignan between themselves, Adeline, and Glenmurray; and concluded with saying, that, 'from the almost idolatrous respect with which Glenmurray spoke and apparently thought of Adeline, and from the account of her conduct and its motives, which he so fully detailed, she was convinced that, so far from being influenced by depravity in connecting herself with Glenmurray, Adeline was the victim of a romantic, absurd, and false conception of virtue; and she should have thought it her duty to have endeavoured, a.s.sisted by her sister, to have prevailed on her to renounce her opinions, and, by becoming the wife of Glenmurray, to restore to the society of her own s.e.x, a woman formed to be its ornament and its example. 'Poor thing!' she added in a faltering voice, 'would that I knew her fate!'

'I can guess it, I tell you,' said Mrs Wallington.

'We had better drop the subject, madam,' replied Emma Douglas indignantly, 'as it is one that we shall never agree upon. If I supposed Miss Mowbray happy, I should feel for her, and feel interest sufficient in her fate to make me combat your prejudices concerning her; but now that she is perhaps afflicted, poor, friendless, and scorned, though unjustly, by every "virtuous she that knows her story," I cannot command my feelings when she is named with sarcastic respect, nor can I bear to hear an unhappy woman supposed to be plunged in the lowest depths of vice, whom I, on the contrary, believe to be at this moment atoning for the error of her judgment by a life of lonely penitence, or sunk perhaps already in the grave, the victim of a broken heart.'

Colonel Mordaunt, affected and delighted, hung on Emma Douglas's words with breathless attention, resolving when she had ended her narration to begin his, and clear Adeline from the calumnies of Mrs Wallington and Miss Maynard: but after articulating with some difficulty--'Ladies,--I --Miss Douglas,--I--' he found that his feelings would not allow him to proceed: therefore, suddenly raising Emma's hand to his lips, imprinted on it a kiss, at once fervent and respectful, and, making a hasty bow, ran out of the house.

Every one was astonished; but none so much as Emma Douglas.

'Why, Emma!' cried the major, 'who should have thought it? I verily believe you have turned Mordaunt's head;--I protest that he kissed your hand:--I suppose he will be here to-morrow, making proposals in form.'

'I wish he may!' exclaimed Mrs Douglas.

'It is not very likely, I think,' cried Miss Maynard.

Mrs Wallington said nothing; but she fanned herself violently.

'How do you know that?' said Maynard. 'He kissed your hand very tenderly--did he not, Miss Douglas? and took advantage of the dark hour: that looks very lover-like.'

Emma Douglas, who, in spite of her reason, was both embarra.s.sed and flattered by Colonel Mordaunt's unexpected mode of taking leave, said not a word; but Mrs Wallington, in a voice hoa.r.s.e with angry emotion, cried:

'It was very free in him, I think, and very unlike Colonel Mordaunt; for he was not a sort of man to take liberties but where he met with encouragement.'

'Then I am sure he would be free with you, sister, sometimes,'

sarcastically observed Miss Maynard.

'Nay, with both of you, I think,' replied Maynard, who had not forgiven the laugh at his expense which they had tried to excite; on which an angry dialogue took place between the brother and sisters: and the Douglases, disgusted and provoked, retired to their apartment.

'There was something very strange and uncommon,' said Mrs Douglas, detaining Emma in her dressing-room, 'in Colonel Mordaunt's behaviour--Do you not think so, Emma?--If it should have any meaning!'

'Meaning!' cried the major: 'what meaning should it have? Why, my dear, do you think Mordaunt never kissed a woman's hand before?'

'But it was so _particular_.--Well, Emma, if it should lead to consequences!'

'Consequences!' cried the major: 'my dear girl, what can you mean?'

'Why, if he should _really love_ our Emma?'

'Why then I hope our Emma will love him.--What say you, Emma?'

'I say?--I--' she replied: 'really I never thought it possible that Colonel Mordaunt should have any thoughts of me, nor do I now;--but it is very strange that he should kiss my hand!'

The major could not help laughing at the _naivete_ of this reply, and in a mutual whisper they agreed how much they wished to see their sister so happily disposed of; while Emma paced up and down her own apartment some time before she undressed herself; and after seeming to convince herself, by recollecting all Colonel Mordaunt's conduct towards her, that he could not possibly _mean_ any thing by his unusual adieu, she went to sleep, exclaiming, 'But it is very strange that he should kiss my hand!'

CHAPTER XXIV

The next morning explained the mystery: for breakfast was scarcely over, when Colonel Mordaunt appeared; and his presence occasioned a blush, from different causes, on the cheeks of all the ladies, and a smile on the countenances of both the gentlemen.

'You left us very abruptly last night,' said Major Douglas.

'I did so,' replied Mordaunt with a sort of grave smile.

'Were you taken ill?' asked Maynard.

'I--I was not quite easy,' answered he: 'but, Miss Douglas, may I request the honour of seeing you alone for a few minutes?'

Again the ladies blushed, and the gentlemen smiled. But Emma's weakness had been temporary: she had convinced herself that Colonel Mordaunt's action had been nothing more than a tribute to what he fancied her generous defence of an unfortunate woman: and with an air of embarra.s.sed dignity she gave him her hand to lead her into an adjoining apartment.

'This is very good of you,' cried Colonel Mordaunt: 'but you are all goodness!--My dear Miss Douglas, had I not gone away as I did last night, I believe I should have fallen down and worshipped you, or committed some other extravagance.'

'Indeed!--What could I say to excite such enthusiasm!' replied Emma deeply blushing.

'What!--Oh, Miss Douglas!'--Then after a few more ohs, and other exclamations, he related to her the whole progress of his acquaintance with an attachment to Adeline, adding as he concluded, 'Now then judge what feelings you must have excited in my bosom:--yes, Miss Douglas, I reverenced you before for your own sake, I now adore you for that of my lost Adeline.'