CHAPTER XVIII.
THE WANDERER.
'Tis a naughty night to swim in.
_King Lear._ There was a wild uncertainty about Mowbray's ideas, after he started from a feverish sleep on the morning succeeding this memorable interview, that his sister, whom he really loved as much as he was capable of loving any thing, had dishonoured him and her name; and the horrid recollection of their last interview was the first idea which his waking imagination was thrilled with.

Then came Touchwood's tale of exculpation--and he persuaded himself, or strove to do so, that Clara must have understood the charge he had brought against her as referring to her attachment to Tyrrel, and its fatal consequences.

Again, still he doubted how that could be--still feared that there must be more behind than her reluctance to confess the fraud which had been practised on her by Bulmer; and then, again, he strengthened himself in the first and more pleasing opinion, by recollecting that, averse as she was to espouse the person he proposed to her, it must have appeared to her the completion of ruin, if he, Mowbray, should obtain knowledge of the clandestine marriage.
"Yes--O yes," he said to himself, "she would think that this story would render me more eager in the rascal's interest, as the best way of hushing up such a discreditable affair--faith, and she would have judged right too; for, had he actually been Lord Etherington, I do not see what else she could have done.

But, not being Lord Etherington, and an anointed scoundrel into the bargain, I will content myself with cudgelling him to death so soon as I can get out of the guardianship of this old, meddling, obstinate, self-willed, busybody .-- Then, what is to be done for Clara ?--This mock marriage was a mere bubble, and both parties must draw stakes.

She likes this grave Don, who proves to be the stick of the right tree, after all--so do not I, though there be something lordlike about him.