Circumstances, however, befriended him in an unexpected way; whilst he was giving way to his irritation by heavy steps and bent brows, and his host was heartily wishing the unpleasant interview terminated, the post arrived, and a letter was brought to Mr. Howard which speedily engrossed all his attention. It was from his sister, and written in great distress—her little boy was dangerously ill, and she urged her brother to come to her, as from a variety of circumstances she stood in need of his protection and advice. She was in lodgings, and the mistress of the house, a hard-hearted and parsimonious woman, took advantage of the difficulties in which she was placed, and not only imposed on her in every possible way, but refused her the assistance of which she stood in need in the present extremity.
Deeply grieved at this detail of the sufferings undergone by the sister on whom he doted, he felt not a moment's hesitation as to his determination. To fly to comfort and defend her must be his first wish, and let the consequences be what they might, all must give way before such an appeal.
With emotion scarcely to be repressed, he turned to Lord Osborne and said,
"Providence, my lord, has decided against me, and your request must now be acceded to as an imperative duty on my part. My sister requires my presence, and if I can arrange my affairs to-day I shall leave by the night mail for Wales."
Lord Osborne's irrepressible pleasure was a certain proof how deeply he had taken this affair to heart, and how little he cared for the feelings of others, except as they thwarted or fell in with his own. He greatly commended Howard for determining to go immediately, and would have been quite as ready to commend Mrs. Willis for wanting him. He was zealous in obviating any possible difficulty about the performance of the Sunday duty, and only demurred to the absolute necessity which Howard alleged of going up to the Castle to see and take leave of the ladies.
But here his arguments were met with entire unconcern; Mr. Howard was determined himself to explain the reason of his conduct, and not trust that office to another. Perhaps he flattered himself that his friend Lady Gordon would considerately allow him an interview with Emma untroubled by witnesses, when he might have an opportunity of setting his own wishes in a clearer light than he had hitherto had courage to do. But if he nourished such ideas, they were of course doomed to an entire disappointment, for on arriving at the well known sitting-room, he learnt, with infinite concern, that Emma was completely invalided.
"Quite unwell, and unfit for any exertion," Lady Gordon pronounced her to be, and with so much fever about her that if the evening did not find her better, medical advice must certainly be sent for. Sorrowfully, therefore, he was compelled to take his leave, only cheered by the assurance that Lady Gordon sympathised much in his anxieties, and that Emma would certainly do the same whenever she could be allowed to learn them.
The certainty that she would learn the real reason that hurried him away was his greatest consolation, and in that case she must forgive, and would probably pity him. He went—and Lord Osborne, relieved from the immediate dread of such a rival, instantaneously resolved to defer his own declaration until some indefinite and distant period, there being not the least occasion to hurry, since any day previous to Howard's return would be early enough for him.
Emma's indisposition lasted several days, and was probably rather increased than otherwise by the information which her attendant gave her, that Mr. Howard was gone to Wales, for no one knew how long. She had no one to whom she could communicate her feelings, and the disappointment was all the more deeply felt from being dwelt on in secret. Lady Gordon possibly guessed her sensations, but was too considerate to show it if she did, except perhaps by an increased kindness of manner. She saw no one else of course except the apothecary, who was by no means an entertaining man, and would bear no comparison with her former acquaintance, Mr. Morgan. It was quite true what Lord Osborne had mentioned, that his mother had talked of coming down to the Castle; she, however, changed her mind and remained at Richmond instead; but Miss Carr arrived on a visit, during the time of Emma's retirement in her own room, and she once more commenced a series of attacks upon the young peer's affections, which though extremely detrimental to his peace of mind, did not at all produce the effect which she intended. Miss Carr began strongly to suspect that some unseen obstacle must neutralize her efforts, and form a bar to her progress. She could not believe he would be so impenetrable to her charms if there were no other affection to shield his heart. She asked questions, considered, watched, and came to the conclusion that Emma Watson, whose presence she had learnt with surprise, was the individual who cast a malignant spell around her intended victim, which enabled him to elude her best devices.
She never for a moment imagined that Emma herself could be insensible or regardless of his admiration; what was a prize of such value to Miss Carr, must be a still greater object to Miss Watson, and doubtless she was internally triumphing in her superior attraction and success. No doubt, indeed, but this sprained ankle was a part of her plan; all devised to make herself of importance, and excite his sympathy. Something must be done to counteract such deep-laid schemes, and that immediately too, or all exertion would be too late; but yet it must be cautiously entered on, or she might only hurt her own cause.