'You have left your half-guinea, Ma'am,' said Wilkins, calling after her; and Laura, half angry at being detained, turned back to fetch it. At this moment Hargrave's eye fell upon her half averted face. Surprise and joy illuminating his fine countenance, 'Laura!' he exclaimed, 'is it possible! have I at last found you?' and springing forward, he clasped her to his breast, regardless of the inquisitive looks and significant smiles of the spectators of his transports. But to the scrutiny of strangers, to the caresses of Hargrave, even to the indecorum of her situation, poor Laura was insensible. Weakened by the fatigue and emotion of the two preceding days, overcome by the sudden conviction that she had not been wilfully neglected, her head sunk upon the shoulder of Hargrave, and she lost all consciousness.
When Laura recovered, she found herself in a little parlour adjoining to the shop, with no attendant but Hargrave, who still supported her in his arms. Her first thought was vexation at her own ill-timed sensibility; her next, a resolution to make no further forfeiture of her respectability, but rather, by the most stoical composure, to regain what she had lost. For this purpose, she soon disengaged herself from her perilous support, and unwilling to speak till secure of maintaining her firmness, she averted her head, and returned all Hargrave's raptures of love and joy with provoking silence.
As soon as she had completely recovered her self-possession, she rose, and apologizing for the trouble she had occasioned him, said she would return home. Hargrave eagerly begged permission to accompany her, saying that his carriage was in waiting, and would convey them. Laura, with cold politeness, declined his offer. Though a little piqued by her manner, Hargrave triumphed in the idea that he retained all his former influence. 'My bewitching Laura,' said he, taking her hand, 'I beseech you to lay aside this ill-timed coquetry. After so sweet, so interesting a proof, that you still allow me some power over your feelings, must I accuse you of an affectation of coldness?' 'No, sir,' said Laura indignantly, 'rather of a momentary weakness, for which I despise myself.'
The lover could not indeed have chosen a more unfavourable moment to express his exultation; for Laura's feelings of humiliation and self-reproach were just then raised to their height, by her perceiving the faces of two of the shop-boys peeping through the glass door with an aspect of roguish curiosity. Conscious of her inability to walk home, and feeling her situation quite intolerable, she called to one of the little spies, and begged that he would instantly procure her a hackney coach.
Hargrave vehemently remonstrated against this disorder. 'Why this unkind haste?' said he. 'Surely after so tedious, so tormenting an absence, you need not grudge me a few short moments.' Laura thought he was probably himself to blame for the absence of which he complained, and coldly answering, 'I have already been detained too long,' was about to quit the room, when Hargrave, impatiently seizing her hand, exclaimed, 'Unfeeling Laura! does that relentless pride never slumber? Have I followed you from Scotland, and sought you for three anxious months, to be met without one kind word, one pitying look!'
'Followed me!' repeated Laura with surprise.
'Yes, upon my life, my journey hither had no other object. After you so cruelly left me, without warning or farewell, how could I endure to exist in the place which you once made delightful to me. Indeed I could not bear it. I resolved to pursue you wherever you went, to breathe at least the same air with you, sometimes to feast my fond eyes with that form, beyond imagination lovely—perhaps to win that beguiling smile which no heart can withstand. The barbarous caution of Mrs Douglas in refusing me your address, has caused the disappointment of all my hopes.'
Hargrave had egregiously mistaken the road to Laura's favour when he threw a reflection upon her friend. 'Mrs Douglas certainly acted right,' said she. 'I have equal confidence in her prudence and in her friendship.' 'Probably then,' said Hargrave, reddening with vexation, 'this system of torture originated with you. It was at your desire that your friend withstood all my entreaties.' 'No,' answered Laura, 'I cannot claim the merit of so much forethought. I certainly did not expect the honour that you are pleased to say you have done me, especially when you were doubtful both of my abode and of your own reception.'
'Insulting girl,' cried Hargrave, 'you know too well, that, however received, still I must follow you. And, but for a series of the most tormenting accidents, I should have defeated the caution of your cold-hearted favourite. At the Perth post-office I discovered that your letters were addressed to the care of Mr Baynard; and the very hour that I reached London, I flew to make inquiries after you. I found that Mr Baynard's house was shut up, and that he was gone in bad health to Richmond. I followed him, and was told that he was too ill to be spoken with, that none of the servants knew your abode, as the footman who used to carry messages to you had been dismissed, and that your letters were now left at Mr Baynard's chambers in town. Thither I went, and learnt that, ever since your removal to Richmond, you had yourself sent for your letters, and that, of course, the clerks were entirely ignorant of your residence. Imagine my disappointment. The people, however, promised to make inquiries of your messenger, and to let me know where you might be found; and day after day did I haunt them, the sport of vain hope and bitter disappointment. No other letter ever came for you, nor did you ever inquire for any.'
'After Mr Baynard's removal to Richmond,' said Laura, 'I directed Mrs Douglas to address her letters to our lodgings.'