The Baron observed that he was silent and reserved; the
conversation languished on both sides. As soon as dinner was ended,
Edmund asked permission to go up into his own apartment; where he packed
up some necessaries, and made a hasty preparation for his departure.

Afterwards he walked into the garden, revolving in his mind the
peculiarity of his situation, and the uncertainty of his future
prospects; lost in thought, he walked to and fro in a covered walk, with
his arms crossed and his eyes cast down, without perceiving that he was
observed by two females who stood at a distance watching his motions. It
was the Lady Emma, and her attendant, who were thus engaged. At length,
he lifted up his eyes and saw them; he stood still, and was irresolute
whether to advance or retire. They approached him; and, as they drew
near, fair Emma spoke.

"You have been so wrapt in meditation, Edmund, that I am apprehensive of
some new vexation that I am yet a stranger to. Would it were in my power
to lessen those you have already! But tell me if I guess truly?"

He stood still irresolute, he answered with hesitation. "O, lady--I
am--I am grieved, I am concerned, to be the cause of so much confusion
in this noble family, to which I am so much indebted; I see no way to
lessen these evils but to remove the cause of them."

"Meaning yourself?" said she.

"Certainly, Madam; and I was meditating on my departure."

"But," said she, "by your departure you will not remove the cause."

"How so, madam?"

"Because you are not the cause, but those you will leave behind you."

"Lady Emma!"

"How can you affect this ignorance, Edmund? You know well enough it is
that odious Wenlock, your enemy and my aversion, that has caused all
this mischief among us, and will much more, if he is not removed."

"This, madam, is a subject that it becomes me to be silent upon. Mr.
Wenlock is your kinsman; he is not my friend; and for that reason I
ought not to speak against him, nor you to hear it from me. If he has
used me ill, I am recompensed by the generous treatment of my lord your
father, who is all that is great and good; he has allowed me to justify
myself to him, and he has restored me to his good opinion, which I prize
among the best gifts of heaven. Your amiable brother William thinks well
of me, and his esteem is infinitely dear to me; and you, excellent Lady,
permit me to hope that you honour me with your good opinion. Are not
these ample amend