Oh then I am sure this chain at least is his present, said the enraptured girl, (her face flushing, and her eyes glistening with joy) why didn’t you call me down instantly to pay my thanks to him? Come, madam! why do we keep him waiting?
Hold, my dear. The gentleman is not waiting: he is gone.
Gone! exclaimed Amelia! you astonish me; you alarm me. Is it possible Mr. De Lancaster could bring me these fine presents, these inestimable presents, and go away without seeing me? Ah dear madam, tell me at once without disguise where is he gone; why is he gone?
Have patience, my dear child, and you shall hear—It was by no means my wish that he should go without your seeing him, and paying him your acknowledgments so justly due; but as I did not know to what degree you might be affected by the sight of your father’s picture, I thought it on all accounts adviseable to desire Mr. De Lancaster would allow me to be the bearer of the pacquet to you; for which I assured him I had no other motive but consideration and regard for your repose; upon which he gave me the pacquet, expressed himself disappointed, and before I could answer, left the house.
In anger—
I suspect it.
Ah madam, madam, where then is my repose, which you so cautiously consulted? Gone for ever. I might have been the happiest of human beings, I am now the most miserable. Much as I adore the memory of my father, infinitely as I prize this relique, which presents me with his image, and dear to me as this token of Mr. De Lancaster’s favour would have been, yet as he wished to give it to me, and that small, that trifling gratification was denied to him, never will I wear it, touch it, look upon it more, till I receive it from his hands, and am assured of his forgiveness.
Having said this, she burst into tears, and what Mrs. Jennings suggested for her consolation would not be very interesting to relate.
CHAPTER IX.
A Hasty Retreat. Meditations by the Way.
When a hasty youth is mounted on a hasty horse, who can foresee where the spur of passion will transport him? The patience of an ass, or the obstinacy of a mule might either weary out his anger, or so divert it, as to give him some chance for recollection; but John and his steed were in the same humour for a start at score, and it seemed equally indifferent to both which way they bent their course, so they did but agree to outrun discretion. They soon left Denbigh behind them, and as Glen Morgan did not just then occur to the rider, and old Ben could not come up within earshot to remind him of it, where they might have gone is mere matter of conjecture, but certainly not to Kray Castle, had not that inextinguishable spark of humanity, which John cherished in his bosom, given him a memento, that a generous animal ought not to suffer merely because a hot-headed rider had got astride upon his back.