“How coldly you speak,” cried he. “Ah! could you read my heart, you would see so little presumption in it, that you would, I am confident, pity, though you could not relieve, its feelings. Every spot you loved to frequent, I have haunted since your departure. Your mother’s grave has often been the scene of pensive meditation. Nor has it wanted its vernal offering; the loveliest flowers of my garden I have wove into wreaths, and hung them over it, in fond remembrance of her angel daughter.”
The plaintive sound of Howel’s voice, the dejection of his countenance, excited the softest feelings of sensibility in Amanda’s bosom. But she grew confused by the tenderness of his expression, and, saying she was happy to see him, tried to disengage her hand, that she might retire.
“Surely,” exclaimed he, still detaining it a few moments, “you might grant me without reluctance—you, who are going to enjoy every happiness and pleasure, going to meet the favored——"
Amanda anticipated the name he was about uttering, and her confusion redoubled. She attempted again, yet in vain, to withdraw her hand, and turned to see whether any one was observing them. How great was her mortification, on perceiving Lady Greystock leaning from a window, exactly over their heads! She smiled significantly at Amanda, on being seen; and, the carriage being ready, said, “She would attend her below stairs.” Howel now relinquished Amanda’s hand. He saw she looked displeased; and expressed such sorrow, accompanied with such submissive apologies for offending her, that she could not avoid according him her pardon. He handed both her and Lady Greystock into the carriage, and looked a melancholy adieu as it drove off.
“Upon my word, a pretty smart young fellow!” said Lady Greystock. “Though impatient this long time to set out, I could not think of interrupting the interesting tete-��-tete I saw between you and him. I suppose you have been a resident in this part of the country before, from your seeming to know this tender swain so well.”
Amanda wished to avoid acknowledging this. If known, she feared it would lead to a discovery, or at least excite a suspicion of her intimacy with Lord Mortimer, which she was desirous of concealing, while in this uncertainty concerning him.
“Your ladyship has heard, I believe,” replied she, “that Ellen’s mother nursed me?” “Yes, my dear,” answered her ladyship, with some smartness; “but if your acquaintance even commenced with this youth in infancy, I fancy it has been renewed since that period.”
Amanda blushed deeply, and, to hide her confusion, pretended to be looking at the prospect from the window. Lady Greystock’s eyes pursued hers. Tudor Hall was conspicuous from the road, and Amanda involuntarily sighed as she viewed it.
“That is a fine domain,” said Lady Greystock; “I presume you have visited it, and know its owner?”
Amanda could not assert a falsehood, neither could she evade the inquiries of Lady Greystock; and therefore not only confessed its being the estate of Lord Mortimer, but her own residence near it the preceding summer. Her ladyship immediately conjectured it was then the attachment between her and Lord Mortimer had commenced; and the blushes, the hesitation, and the unwillingness of Amanda, in owning her visit to Wales, all confirmed this conjecture. She tried, however, to insinuate herself into her full confidence, by warm expressions of esteem, and by hinting, that from the disposition of Lord Mortimer, she could not believe he ever did, or ever would, think seriously of Lady Euphrasia; this, she hoped, would either induce or betray Amanda to open her whole heart; but she was disappointed. She flattered herself, however, with thinking she had discovered enough to satisfy the marchioness, if she, as Lady Greystock feared she would, expressed any disapprobation at seeing Amanda her companion. She intended saying, that Fitzalan had absolutely forced her under her protection.