Near this gentleman's house lived Mr Maynard and his two sisters, who had taken up their abode there immediately on their return from Portugal. Major Douglas, his wife, and Emma Douglas, were then on a visit to them. Mordaunt had known Major Douglas in early life; and as soon as he found that he was in the neighbourhood, he rode over to renew his acquaintance with him; and received so cordial a welcome, not only from the major, but the master of the house and his sisters, that he was strongly induced to repeat his visits, and not a day passed in which he was not, during some part of it, a guest at Mr Maynard's.
Mrs Wallington and Miss Maynard, indeed, received him with such pointed marks of distinction and preference, as to make it visible to every observer that it was not as a friend only they were desirous of considering Colonel Mordaunt; while, by spiteful looks and acrimonious remarks directed to each other, the sisters expressed the jealousy which rankled in their hearts, whenever he seemed by design or inadvertency to make one of them the particular object of his attention.
Of Emma Douglas's chance for his favour, they were not at all fearful:—they thought her too plain, and too unattractive, to be capable of rivalling them; especially in the favour of an officer, a man of fashion; and therefore they beheld without emotion the attention which Colonel Mordaunt paid to her whenever she spoke, and the deference which he evidently felt for her opinion, as her remarks on whatever subject she conversed were formed always to interest, and often to instruct.
One evening, while Major Douglas was amusing himself in looking over some magazines which had lately been bound up together, and had not yet been deposited in Mr Maynard's library, he suddenly started, laid down the book, and turning to the window, with an exclamation of—'Poor fellow!'—passed his hand across his eyes, as if meaning to disperse an involuntary tear.
'What makes you exclaim "Poor fellow?"' asked his lovely wife: 'have you met with an affecting story in those magazines?'
'No, Louisa,' replied he, 'but I met in the obituary with a confirmation of the death of an old friend, which I suspected must have happened by this time, though I never knew it before; I see by this magazine that poor Glenmurray died a very few months after we saw him at Perpignan.'
'Poor fellow!' exclaimed Mrs Douglas.
'I wish I knew what is become of his interesting companion, Miss Mowbray,' said Emma Douglas.
'I wish I did too,' secretly sighed Colonel Mordaunt: but his heart palpitated so violently at this unexpected mention of the woman for whom he still pined in secret, that he had not resolution to say that he knew her.
'Become of her!' cried Miss Maynard sneeringly: 'you need not wonder, I think, what her fate is: no doubt Mr Glenmurray's interesting companion has not lost her companionable qualities, and is a companion still.'