“Emmeline!” exclaimed her mother, in an accent of warning and reproach, which brought a deep crimson flush to her cheek, and caused her eyes to glisten, for Mrs. Hamilton had marked that all was not serene on the countenance of the Earl, and her heart beat with anxious alarm; for she knew his intentions with regard to Caroline, and all she beheld and heard, startled, almost terrified her.  Lord St. Eval certainly looked a little disturbed at Emmeline’s continued questions, and perceiving it, she hesitatingly but frankly said—­

“I really beg your pardon, my lord, for my unjustifiable curiosity; mamma is always reproving me for it, and certainly I deserve her lecture now.  But will you really find out Mary, and be the bearer of a small parcel for me?”

“With the greatest pleasure; for it will give me an object, which I had not before, and a most pleasing one, if I may hope your friend will not object to my intrusion.”

“A friend of mine will ever be warmly welcomed by Mary,” said Emmeline, with eagerness, but checking herself.

“Then may I hope you will continue to regard me as your friend, and still speak of me as Eugene, though perhaps a year or more may pass before you see me again?” demanded the young Earl, somewhat sadly, glancing towards Mrs. Hamilton, as if for her approval.

“As my brother Eugene—­yes,” answered Emmeline, quickly, and perhaps archly.  A shadow passed over his brow.

“As your friend” he repeated, laying an emphasis on the word, which to any one less innocent of the world than Emmeline, would at once have excited their suspicion, and which single word at once told Mrs. Hamilton that all her cherished hopes were blighted.  She read confirmation in her husband’s countenance, and for a few minutes stood bewildered.

“I leave town in a few hours for my father’s seat,” added St. Eval, turning to Mrs. Hamilton.  “I may amuse myself by taking Devonshire in my way, or rather going out of my way for that purpose.  Have you any commands at Oakwood that I can perform?”

Mrs. Hamilton answered thankfully in the negative, but Emmeline exclaimed—­

“I have a good mind to make you bearer of a letter and a gage d’amour to my good old nurse; she will be so delighted to hear of me, and her postman a nobleman.  Poor nurse will have food for conversation and pleasurable reflection till we return.”

“Anything you like, only make me of use; and let me have it in an hour’s time, or perhaps I can give you two.”

“One will be all-sufficient; but what a wonderful desire to be useful has seized you all in a minute,” replied Emmeline, whose high spirits appeared on that day utterly uncontrollable, and she ran on unmindful of her mother’s glance.  “But if I really do this, I must bid you farewell at once, or I shall have no time.  Think of me, if anything extraordinary meets your eye, or occurs to you, and treasure it up for my information, as you know my taste for the marvellous.  My letter to Mary shall be forwarded to you, for I really depend on your seeking her, and telling her all about us; and now, then, with every wish for your pleasant journey, I must wish you good-bye.”