From the time of Edmund’s departure, the fair Emma had many uneasy hours; she wished to enquire after him, but feared to shew any solicitude concerning him.  The next day, when her brother William came into her apartment, she took courage to ask a question.

“Pray, brother, can you give any guess what is become of Edmund?”

“No,” said he, with a sigh; “why do you ask me?”

“Because, my dear William, I should think if any body knew, it must be you; and I thought he loved you too well to leave you in ignorance.  But don’t you think he left the castle in a very strange manner?”

“I do, my dear; there is a mystery in every circumstance of his departure; Nevertheless (I will trust you with a secret), he did not leave the castle without making a distinction in my favour.”

“I thought so,” said she; “but you might tell me what you know about him.”

“Alas, my dear Emma!  I know nothing.  When I saw him last, he seemed a good deal affected, as if he were taking leave of me; and I had a foreboding that we parted for a longer time than usual.”

“Ah! so had I,” said she, “when he parted from me in the garden.”

“What leave did he take of you, Emma?”

She blushed, and hesitated to tell him all that passed between them; but he begged, persuaded, insisted; and, at length, under the strongest injunctions of secrecy, she told him all.

He said, “That Edmund’s behaviour on that occasion was as mysterious as the rest of his conduct; but, now you have revealed your secret, you have a right to know mine.”

He then gave her the letter he found upon his pillow; she read it with great emotion.

“Saint Winifred assist me!” said she; what can I think?  ’The peasant Edmund is no more, but there lives one,’—­that is to my thinking, Edmund lives, but is no peasant.”

“Go on, my dear,” said William; “I like your explanation.”

“Nay, brother, I only guess; but what think you?”

“I believe we think alike in more than one respect, that he meant to recommend no other person than himself to your favour; and, if he were indeed of noble birth, I would prefer him to a prince for a husband to my Emma!”

“Bless me!” said she, “do you think it possible that he should be of either birth or fortune?”

“It is hard to say what is impossible! we have proof that the east apartment is haunted.  It was there that Edmund was made acquainted with many secrets, I doubt not:  and, perhaps, his own fate may be involved in that of others.  I am confident that what he saw and heard there, was the cause of his departure.  We must wait with patience the unravelling this intricate affair; I believe I need not enjoin your secrecy as to what I have said; your heart will be my security.”

“What mean you, brother?”

“Don’t affect ignorance, my dear; you love Edmund, so do I; it is nothing to be ashamed of.  It would have been strange, if a girl of your good sense had not distinguished a swan among a flock of geese.”