"Oh, tell me," cried Delia, with
an impatience not to be restrained by modes and forms, "tell me, how does
my Damon? Why is he not here? Alas, I fear"--"Fear nothing," cried the
baronet. "He is safe. He is at your father's house, and impatient to see
you." "And is this the lady," cried lord Thomas, "of whom my son is
enamoured? But he shall not disobey me. I will never permit it. Sir, if
this be the lady, I will give her to him with my own hand. But where is
the ungracious rascal? Why does not he appear?" "Nothing, be assured,"
said the baronet, "but reasons of the last importance, could have kept him
back in so interesting a moment." "Alas, I fear," cried Delia, "since you
endeavour to conceal them from me, they are reasons of the most afflicting
nature." "It is in vain," replied Sir William, "to endeavour at
concealment." "Your son," turning to lord Thomas Villiers, "is confined to
his bed. The anxiety and fatigue that he suffered, in consequence of the
extraordinary step of lord Martin, have thrown him into a fever. But be
not uneasy, my Delia," taking her hand, "there is no danger. One sigh, one
look from you will restore him." "Ten thousand curses," exclaimed the
father, "upon the head of the contemptible, misbegotten ravisher! But let
us make haste. I am glad however that my rogue of a son is a little
punished for his impertinence. Let us make haste."

Saying this, he ordered the horses to his chariot, and the whole company
prepared to set out for Southampton immediately. The only business which
remained, was the dispatching a message, which was done by one of sir
William's servants, from Mr. Godfrey to lord Martin, announcing his name,
and informing his lordship, that he was to be met with any time in the
ensuing week at Mr. Moreland's.

Lord Martin was a good deal bruised and enfeebled with the adventure of
the preceding evening. He had been obliged to undergo a lustration of near
an hour, before he could be put to bed. He was just risen, when the
message was delivered. "Zounds!" cried the peer, "he is, is he? And so
this fellow, whom nobody knows, has the impudence to snub me! By my title,
and all the blood of my ancestors, he is not worthy of my sword. I will
have him assassinated. I will hire some blackguards to seize him, and bind
him in my presence, and I will bastinado him with my own hand. Furies and
curses! I do not know what to do. Oh, this confounded vanity! Not
contented with one disgrace, I have bro