Hargrave vehemently remonstrated against this disorder. 'Why this unkind haste?' said he. 'Surely after so tedious, so tormenting an absence, you need not grudge me a few short moments.' Laura thought he was probably himself to blame for the absence of which he complained, and coldly answering, 'I have already been detained too long,' was about to quit the room, when Hargrave, impatiently seizing her hand, exclaimed, 'Unfeeling Laura! does that relentless pride never slumber? Have I followed you from Scotland, and sought you for three anxious months, to be met without one kind word, one pitying look!'
'Followed me!' repeated Laura with surprise.
'Yes, upon my life, my journey hither had no other object. After you so cruelly left me, without warning or farewell, how could I endure to exist in the place which you once made delightful to me. Indeed I could not bear it. I resolved to pursue you wherever you went, to breathe at least the same air with you, sometimes to feast my fond eyes with that form, beyond imagination lovely--perhaps to win that beguiling smile which no heart can withstand. The barbarous caution of Mrs Douglas in refusing me your address, has caused the disappointment of all my hopes.'
Hargrave had egregiously mistaken the road to Laura's favour when he threw a reflection upon her friend. 'Mrs Douglas certainly acted right,' said she. 'I have equal confidence in her prudence and in her friendship.' 'Probably then,' said Hargrave, reddening with vexation, 'this system of torture originated with you. It was at your desire that your friend withstood all my entreaties.' 'No,' answered Laura, 'I cannot claim the merit of so much forethought. I certainly did not expect the honour that you are pleased to say you have done me, especially when you were doubtful both of my abode and of your own reception.'
'Insulting girl,' cried Hargrave, 'you know too well, that, however received, still I must follow you. And, but for a series of the most tormenting accidents, I should have defeated the caution of your cold-hearted favourite. At the Perth post-office I discovered that your letters were addressed to the care of Mr Baynard; and the very hour that I reached London, I flew to make inquiries after you. I found that Mr Baynard's house was shut up, and that he was gone in bad health to Richmond. I followed him, and was told that he was too ill to be spoken with, that none of the servants knew your abode, as the footman who used to carry messages to you had been dismissed, and that your letters were now left at Mr Baynard's chambers in town. Thither I went, and learnt that, ever since your removal to Richmond, you had yourself sent for your letters, and that, of course, the clerks were entirely ignorant of your residence. Imagine my disappointment. The people, however, promised to make inquiries of your messenger, and to let me know where you might be found; and day after day did I haunt them, the sport of vain hope and bitter disappointment. No other letter ever came for you, nor did you ever inquire for any.'