ABSTRACT
The appearance of lord Monteith, when the carriage stopped at Powerscourt, was sufficiently deplorable to excite commiseration even in those bosoms which felt the strongest abhorrence of his former conduct. Pale, and trembling with apprehension, he asked if his lady were still alive. On receiving an / answer in the affirmative, he flew to her apartment, not reflecting upon the effect which his sudden return might have. Fitzos-borne, possessed of a greater command of his own feelings, stopped him at the door, and, dragging him into an adjoining room, whispered to him, that prudence and composure were highly necessary. ‘If you see lady Monteith in your present perturbation of spirits,’ said he, ‘you will certainly become your own accuser, and perhaps lay the foundation for much future misery. Remember, possibly she knows nothing of Mrs. Harley’s affair. For shame! my friend, how you unman yourself by these emotions.’
