The remembrance of his last night's behaviour was in some measure obliterated by the alarm she had felt at the sight of Elkerton. Delamere looked melancholy and dejected. Emmeline speaking to him with her usual sweetness, seemed to have forgotten the offence he had given her, and tried to restore his good humour as if she had been the aggressor: but he continued gloomy and pensive.
They began their breakfast, and conversed on different subjects.
'Did you observe,' said Emmeline, 'the phaeton which drove in just now?'
'No—what was there remarkable about it?'
'Nothing, but that one of the persons it contained was Elkerton, the poor man you made so absurd at Mrs. Ashwood's, when he boasted of knowing you. I hope I shall get away without his seeing me—I should extremely dislike meeting him.'
'Stupid dog!—why should you care whether you meet him or no?'
'Because he must think it so strange that I am here with you.'
'Let him—Of what consequence is it to us what such a puppy thinks? I cannot possibly care about it.'
'But I do, Mr. Delamere,' said Emmeline, somewhat gravely.—'You will recollect that I may be very much injured by the scandal such a man may circulate.'