'Perhaps,' cried she, 'his situation may not be so desperate. Let us rather enquire what can be done for him, than indulge the extravagance of our own despair.'

'Ah! tell me, then, where?—how?' Lady Westhaven could say no more. Godolphin thought it best to satisfy her.

'I will not relate the first part of my search. It was fruitless. At length I saw a croud before the door of the Bedford. I asked what was the matter? and heard that two gentlemen had fought a duel, by candlelight, with swords; that one was killed and the other had escaped. This was too much like what I expected to hear: I forced my way into the room. Lord Delamere was bleeding on the ground. Two surgeons were with him. I cleared the room of all but them, and the necessary attendants. I saw him carefully conveyed to bed. I left them with him; and came to tell you. Now I must hasten back to him. I will not flatter you; the surgeons gave me very little—indeed no hope of his life.'

'Oh! my father! my father!' exclaimed Lady Westhaven, 'what will become of him when he hears this?'

'I would go to him,' said Godolphin, 'but that I must return to poor Delamere. What little he said was to request that I would stay with him.'

'Go then,' said Emmeline—'we must do without you. Let him not miss the comfort of your presence.'

'Yes,' answered he, 'I must indeed go.' Emmeline, leaving Lady Westhaven a moment to her woman, followed him out, and he said to her—'Try, I conjure you, my Emmeline, to exert yourself for the sake of your poor friend. Keep her as tranquil as you can; and may ye both acquire fortitude to bear what is, I fear, inevitable!'

'Oh! my father!' loudly exclaimed Lady Westhaven, with a dreadful shriek—'Who shall dare to announce these tidings to you?'

'Send,' continued Godolphin, 'an express to Lord Montreville. He is at Lord Dornock's; and dispatch another to my brother. Pray take care of your own health. It is now impossible for me to stay—the poor languishing Delamere expects me.' He then ran hastily away; and Emmeline, struggling with all her power against her own anguish, was obliged to commit her friend to the care of her servants, while she sat down to write to Lord Montreville. Her letter contained only two lines.

'My dear Lord,

'Your son is very ill. We are much alarmed; and Lady Westhaven begs you will immediately come hither. Do not go to Berkley-Square.

Emmeline Mowbray.'

Grosvenor-Street,
April 5th.