Though this was not all strictly true, Fitz-Edward possessed a sort of plausible and insinuating eloquence, which hardly ever failed of removing every impression, however strong, against him; and Lord Montreville was conversing with him with his usual confidence and friendship, when the note from Miss Delamere was brought in.
His Lordship, ever anxious for his son, gazed eagerly at it while Fitz-Edward read it; and trembling, asked from whom it came?
Fitz-Edward put it into his hand; and having ran it over in breathless terror, his Lordship hurried out, directing all his servants to go several ways in search of Delamere; while he entreated Fitz-Edward to run to whatever place he was likely to be in; and went himself to Mrs. Stafford's lodging, who was by this time returned home.
What he heard from her of the scene of the morning, contributed to encrease his alarm. The image of his son in all the wildness of ungovernable passion, shook his nerves so much, that he seemed ready to faint, yet unable to move to enquire where he was. As he could attend to nothing else, Mrs. Stafford told him how anxiously she had thought of a situation for Emmeline, and that she believed she had at length found one that would do, 'if,' said she, 'your Lordship cannot prevail on him to quit Swansea, which I think you had better attempt, though from the scene of this morning I own I despair of it more than ever.
'The person with whom I hope to be able to place Miss Mowbray is Mrs. Ashwood, the sister of Mr. Stafford. She has been two years a widow, with three children, and resides at a village near London. She has a very good fortune; and would be happy to have with her such a companion as Miss Mowbray, 'till I am so fortunate as to be enabled to take her myself. As her connections and acquaintance lie in a different set of people, and in a remote part of the country from those of Mr. Delamere, it is improbable, that with the precaution we shall take, he will ever discover her residence.'
Lord Montreville expressed his sense of Mrs. Stafford's kindness in the warmest terms. He assured her that he should never forget the friendly part she had taken, and that if ever it was in his power to shew his gratitude by being so happy as to have the ability to serve her or her family, he should consider it as the most fortunate event of his life.
Mrs. Stafford heard this as matter of course; and would have felt great compassion for Lord Montreville, whose state of mind was truly deplorable, but she reflected that he had really been the author of his own misery: first, by bringing up his son in a manner that had given such boundless scope to his passions; and now, by refusing to gratify him in marrying a young woman, who was, in the eye of unprejudiced reason, so perfectly unexceptionable. She advised him to try once more to prevail on his son to leave Swansea with him; and he left her to enquire whether Fitz-Edward had yet found Delamere, whose absence gave him the most cruel uneasiness.
Fitz-Edward, after a long search, had overtaken Delamere on an unfrequented common, about a mile from the town, where he was walking with a quick pace; and seeing Fitz-Edward, endeavoured to escape him. But when he found he could not avoid him, he turned fiercely towards him—'Why do you follow me, Sir? Is it not enough that you have broken through the ties of honour and friendship in betraying me to my father? must you still persecute me with your insidious friendship?'
Fitz-Edward heard him with great coolness; and without much difficulty convinced him that Miss Mowbray herself had given the information to Lord Montreville by means of Mrs. Stafford.
This conviction, while it added to the pain and mortification of Delamere, greatly reconciled him to Fitz-Edward, whom he had before suspected; and after a long conversation, which Fitz-Edward so managed as to regain some degree of power over the passions of his impetuous friend, he persuaded him to go and dine with Lord Montreville; having first undertaken for his Lordship that nothing should be said on the subject which occupied the thoughts of the father; on which condition only the son consented to meet him.