Chapter 30

A day elapsed between the departure of Denbigh and the reappearance of
Emily amongst her friends. An indifferent observer would have thought her
much graver and less animated than usual. A loss of the rich color which
ordinarily glowed on her healthful cheek might be noticed; but the placid
sweetness and graceful composure which regulated her former conduct
pervaded all she did or uttered. Not so with Jane: her pride had suffered
more than her feelings--her imagination had been more deceived than her
judgment--and although too well bred and soft by nature to become rude or
captious, she was changed from a communicative, to a reserved; from a
confiding, to a suspicious companion. Her parents noticed this alteration
with an uneasiness that was somewhat embittered by the consciousness of a
neglect of some of those duties that experience now seemed to indicate,
could never be forgotten with impunity.

Francis and Clara had arrived from their northern tour, so happy in each
other, and so contented with their lot, that it required some little
exercise of fortitude in both Lady Moseley and her daughters, to expel
unpleasant recollections while they contemplated it. Their relation of the
little incidents of their tour had, however, an effect to withdraw the
attention of their friends in some degree from late occurrences; and a
melancholy and sympathizing kind of association had taken place of the
unbounded confidence and gaiety; which so lately prevailed at Benfield
Lodge. Mr. Benfield mingled with his solemnity an air of mystery; and he
was frequently noticed by his relatives looking over old papers, and was
apparently employed in preparations that indicated movements of more than
usual importance.

The family were collected in one of the parlors on an extremely unpleasant
day, the fourth after the departure of John, when the thin person of
Johnson stalked in amongst them. All eyes were fixed on him in expectation
of what he had to communicate, and all apparently dreading to break the
silence, from an apprehension that his communication would be unpleasant.
In the meantime Peter, who had respectfully left his hat at the door,
proceeded to uncase his body from the multiplied defences he had taken
against the inclemency of the weather. His master stood erect, with an
outstretched hand, ready to receive the reply to his epistle; and Johnson
having liberated his body from thraldom, produced the black leathern
pocket-book, and from its contents a letter, when he read aloud--Roderic
Benfield, Esq., Benfield Lodge, Norfolk; favored by Mr.--here Peter's
modesty got the better of his method; he had never been called Mr. Johnson
by anybody, old or young; all knew him in that neighborhood as Peter
Johnson--and he had very