"Whatever her temper is, _every one_ admires it; and so far from its being what you have described, she has great vivacity; vivacity which comes from the heart."
"No, if it _came_ from thence, I should admire it too; but, if she has any, it rests there, and no one is the better for it."
"Pshaw!" said Miss Woodley, "it is time for us to retire; you and Mr.
Sandford must finish your dispute in the morning."
"Dispute, Madam!" said Sandford, "I never disputed with any one beneath a doctor of divinity in my life. I was only cautioning your friend not to make light of those virtues which it would do her honour to possess.
Miss Fenton is a most amiable young woman, and worthy of just such a husband as my Lord Elmwood will make her."
"I am sure," said Miss Woodley, "Miss Milner thinks so--she has a high opinion of Miss Fenton--she was at present only jesting."
"But, Madam, a jest is a very pernicious thing, when delivered with a malignant sneer. I have known a jest destroy a lady"s reputation--I have known a jest give one person a distaste for another--I have known a jest break off a marriage."
"But I suppose there is no apprehension of that in the present case?"
said Miss Woodley--wishing he might answer in the affirmative.
"Not that I can foresee. No, Heaven forbid," he replied, "for I look upon them to be formed for each other--their dispositions, their pursuits, their inclinations the same. Their pa.s.sions for each other just the same--pure--white as snow."
"And I dare say, not warmer," replied Miss Milner.
He looked provoked beyond measure.
"My dear," cried Miss Woodley, "how can you talk thus? I believe in my heart you are only envious, because my Lord Elmwood has not offered himself to you."
"To her!" said Sandford, affecting an air of the utmost surprise; "to her! Do you think he received a dispensation from his vows, to become the husband of a coquette--a----."--He was going on.
"Nay, Mr. Sandford," cried Miss Milner, "I believe, after all, my worst crime, in your eyes, is that of being a heretic."
"By no means--it is the only circ.u.mstance that can apologize for your faults; and if you had not that excuse, there would be none for you."
"Then, at present, there _is_ an excuse--I thank you, Mr. Sandford--this is the kindest thing you ever said to me. But I am vext to see that you are sorry you have said it."
"Angry at your being a heretic!" he resumed--"Indeed I should be much more concerned to see you a disgrace to our religion."
Miss Milner had not been in a good humour the whole evening--she had been provoked several times to the full extent of her patience: but this harsh sentence hurried her beyond all bounds, and she arose from her seat in the most violent agitation, exclaiming, "What have I done to be thus treated?"
Though Mr. Sandford was not a man easily intimidated, he was upon this occasion evidently alarmed; and stared about him with so violent an expression of surprise, that it partook, in some degree, of fear. Miss Woodley clasped her friend in her arms, and cried with the tenderest affection and pity, "My dear Miss Milner, be composed."
Miss Milner sat down, and was so for a minute; but her dead silence was almost as alarming to Sandford as her rage had been; and he did not perfectly recover himself till he saw tears pouring down her face. He then heaved a sigh of content that all had thus ended; but in his heart resolved never to forget the ridiculous affright into which he had been thrown. He stole out of the room without uttering a syllable--but as he never retired to rest before he had repeated a long form of evening prayer, when this evening he came to that part which supplicates "Grace for the wicked," he mentioned Miss Milner"s name with the most fervent devotion.
CHAPTER V.
Of the many restless nights that Miss Milner pa.s.sed, this was not one.
It is true, she had a weight of care upon her heart, even heavier than usual, but the burden had overcome her strength: wearied out with hopes, with fears, and, at the end, with disappointment and rage, she sunk at once into a deep slumber. But the more forgetfulness had then prevailed, the more powerful was the force of remembrance when she awoke. At first, so sound her sleep had been, that she had a difficulty in calling to mind why she was unhappy; but that she _was_ unhappy she well recollected--when the cause came to her memory, she would have slept again--but it was impossible.
Though her rest had been sound, it had not been refreshing--she was far from well, and sent word of her indisposition, as an apology for not being present at breakfast. Lord Elmwood looked concerned when the message was delivered--Mr. Sandford shook his head.
"Miss Milner"s health is not good!" said Mrs. Horton a few minutes after.
Lord Elmwood laid down the newspaper to attend to her.
"To me, there is something very extraordinary about her!" continued Mrs.
Horton, finding she had caught his Lordship"s attention.
"So there is to me!" added Sandford, with a sarcastic sneer.
"And so there is to me!" said Miss Woodley, with a serious face and a heartfelt sigh.
Lord Elmwood gazed by turns at each, as each delivered their sentiments--and when they were all silent, he looked bewildered, not knowing what judgment to form from any of these sentences.
Soon after breakfast, Mr. Sandford withdrew to his own apartment: Mrs.
Horton, in a little time, went to hers: Lord Elmwood and Miss Woodley were left alone. He immediately rose from his seat, and said,
"I think, Miss Woodley, Miss Milner was extremely to blame, though I did not chuse to tell her so before Mr. Sandford, in giving Lord Frederick an opportunity of speaking to her, unless she means that he shall renew his addresses."
"That, I am certain," replied Miss Woodley, "she does _not_ mean--and I a.s.sure you, my Lord, seriously, it was by mere accident she saw him yesterday evening, or permitted his attendance upon her to her carriage."
"I am glad to hear it," he returned quickly; "for although I am not of a suspicious nature, yet in regard to her affections for him, I cannot but still have my doubts."
"You need have none, my Lord," replied Miss Woodley, with a smile of confidence.
"And yet you must own her behaviour has warranted them--has it not been in this particular incoherent and unaccountable?"
"The behaviour of a person in love, no doubt," answered Miss Woodley.
"Don"t I say so?" replied he warmly; "and is not that a just reason for my suspicions?"
"But is there only one man in the world on whom those suspicions can fix?" said Miss Woodley, with the colour mounting into her face.
"Not that I know of--not one more that I know of," he replied, with astonishment at what she had insinuated, and yet with a perfect a.s.surance that she was in the wrong.
"Perhaps I am mistaken," answered she.
"Nay, that is impossible too," returned he with anxiety--"You share her confidence--you are perpetually with her; and if she did not confide in you, (which I know, and rejoice that she does) you would yet be acquainted with all her inclinations."
"I believe I am _perfectly_ acquainted with them," replied Miss Woodley, with a significance in her voice and manner which convinced him there was some secret to learn.
After a hesitation----
"It is far from me," replied he, "to wish to be entrusted with the private sentiments of those who desire to with-hold them from me; much less would I take any unfair means to be informed of them. To ask any more questions of you, I believe, would be unfair. Yet I cannot but lament that I am not as well informed as you are. I wish to prove my friendship to Miss Milner, but she will not suffer me--and every step that I take for her happiness, I take in the most perplexing uncertainty."
Miss Woodley sighed--but she did not speak. He seemed to wait for her reply; but as she made none, he proceeded--
"If ever breach of confidence could be tolerated, I certainly know no occasion that would so justly authorise it as the present. I am not only proper from character, but from circ.u.mstances, to be relied upon--my interest is so nearly connected with the interest, and my happiness with the happiness of my ward, that those principles, as well as my honour, would protect her against every peril arising from my being trusted."