He unluckily tarried so long at the ale-house to prove if
his employer's coin was good that, when he appeared at Fairy Knowe, the
little sense which nature had given him was effectually drowned in ale
and brandy; and instead of asking for Lord Evandale, he demanded to speak
with Lady Margaret, whose name was more familiar to his ear. Being
refused admittance to her presence, he staggered away with the letter
undelivered, perversely faithful to Morton's instructions in the only
point in which it would have been well had he departed from them.
A few minutes after he was gone, Edith entered the apartment. Lord
Evandale and she met with mutual embarrassment, which Lady Margaret, who
only knew in general that their union had been postponed by her
granddaughter's indisposition, set down to the bashfulness of a bride and
bridegroom, and, to place them at ease, began to talk to Lady Emily on
indifferent topics. At this moment Edith, with a countenance as pale as
death, muttered, rather than whispered, to Lord Evandale a request to
speak with him. He offered his arm, and supported her into the small
ante-room, which, as we have noticed before, opened from the parlour. He
placed her in a chair, and, taking one himself, awaited the opening of
the conversation.
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