She was sure that Lady Westhaven would immediately fly to her brother. And in that event how was she herself to act?
Could she suffer her generous, her tender friend, to whom she was so much obliged, to encounter alone all the fatigue and anxiety to which the sickness and danger of this beloved brother would probably expose her? Yet could she submit to the appearance of seeking a man who had so lately renounced her for ever, with coldness, contempt, and insult? If she went not with Lady Westhaven, she had no choice but that of travelling across France alone, to rejoin Mrs. Stafford; since she could not remain with propriety a moment at St. Alpin, with the Chevalier de Bellozane; whose addresses she never meant to encourage, and whose importunate passion persecuted and distressed her. Godolphin too!—whither would Godolphin go? Could she go where he was, and conceal her partiality? or could she, by accompanying him to Besançon, plunge another dagger in the heart of Delamere, and shew him, not only that he had lost that portion of her regard he had once possessed, but that all her love was now given to another.
That she was most partial to Godolphin, she could no longer attempt to conceal from herself. The moment her fears that he had met Delamere hostilely were removed, all her tenderness for him returned with new force. She again saw all the merit, all the nobleness of his character; but she still tormented herself with uneasy conjectures as to the cause of his journey to Switzerland; and wearied herself with considering how she ought to act, 'till towards morning, when falling, thro' mere fatigue and lassitude, into a short slumber, she saw multiplied and exaggerated, in dreams, the dreadful images which had disturbed her waking; and starting up in terror, determined no more to attempt to sleep. It was now day break; and wrapping herself in her muslin morning gown and cloak, she went down into the garden of Mrs. St. Alpin, where, seated on a bench, under a row of tall walnut trees, which divided it from the vineyard, she leaned her head against one of them; and lost in reflections on the strangeness of her fate, and the pain of her situation, she neither saw or heard any thing around her.
Godolphin, in the anxiety she had expressed for Delamere, believed he saw a confirmation of his fears; which had always been that the early impression he had made on her heart would be immoveable, and that neither his having renounced her or his rash and heedless temper would prevent her continuing to love him. Wretched in this idea, he concluded all hopes of obtaining her regard for ever at an end; while every hour's experience of his own feelings, whether he thought of or saw her, convinced him that his love, however desperate, was incurable. Accustomed to fatigue, all that he had endured the day before could not restore to him that repose which was driven away by these reflections. Almost as soon as he saw it was light, he left his room, and with less interest than he would once have taken in such a survey, wandered over the antique apartments of the paternal house of his mother. He then went down into the garden; and musing rather than observing, passed along the strait walk that went between the walnut trees into the vineyard. At the end of it he turned, and, in coming again towards the house, saw Emmeline sitting on the bench beneath them, who had not seen him the first time he passed her, but who now appeared surprised at his approach.
She had not, however, time to rise before he went up to her, and bowing gravely, enquired how she did after the alarm he had been so unfortunate as to give her the evening before?
'I fear,' said he, seating himself by her, 'that Miss Mowbray is yet indisposed from her late walk and my inconsiderate address to her. I know not how to forgive myself for my indiscretion, since it has distressed you.'
'Such intelligence as I had the misfortune of hearing, Sir, of the brother of Lady Westhaven—a brother so dear to her—could hardly fail of affecting me. I should have been concerned had a stranger been so circumstanced; but when—'
'Ah! Madam,' interrupted Godolphin, 'you need not repeat all the claims which give the fortunate Delamere a right to your favour. But do not suffer yourself, on his account, to be so extremely alarmed. I hope the danger is by no means so great as to make his recovery hopeless. Since of those we love, the most minute account is not tedious, and since it may, perhaps, alleviate your apprehensions for his safety, will you allow me to relate all I know of his illness! It will engage me, perhaps, in a detail of our first acquaintance, and carry me back to circumstances which I would wish to forget; if your gratification was not in my mind a consideration superior to every other.'
Emmeline, trembling, yet wishing to hear all, could not refuse. She bowed in silence; and Godolphin considering that as an assent, reassumed his discourse.