THE
BRITISH NOVELISTS;
WITH AN
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BIOGRAPHICAL AND CRITICAL,
MRS. BJRBAULD.
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VOL. XXVIII.
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SIMPLE STORY.
BY
MRS. INCHBALD.
*' When my occasions took me into France, towards the close of the
laic reign, (he clergy, under all their forms, engaged a considerable part
of my curiosity.
" They seemed to me, beyond the clerical character, liberal and
open ; with the hearts of gentlemen, and men of honour. They seemed
to me rather a superior class; a sort of men, amongst whom you would
not be surprised to find a Fenelon."
BURKE.
A NEW EDITION,
WITH THE LAST CORRECTIONS BY THE AUTHOR.
5 \ i>
'9> c i
MRS. INCHBALD.
1 O readers of taste it would be superfluous to
point out the beauties of Mrs. Inchbald's novels.
The Simple Story has obtained the decided ap-
probation of the best judges. There is an ori-
ginality both in the characters and the situations
which is not often found in similar productions.
To call it a simple start/ is perhaps a misnomer,
since the first and second parts are in fact two di-
tinct stories, connected indeed by the character
of Dorri forth, which they successively serve to
illustrate.
Dorriforth is introduced as a Roman priest of
a lofty mind, generous, and endued with strong
sensibilities, but having in his disposition much
of sternness and inflexibility. His being in
priest's orders presents an apparently insurmount-
able obstacle to his marriage ; but it is got over,
without violating probability, by his becoming-
heir to a title and estate, and on that account
receiving a dispensation from his vows. Though
slow to entertain thoughts of love, as soon as he
perceives the partiality of his ward, it enters his
breast like a torrent when the flood-gates are
opened. The perplexities in which he is involved
by Miss Milner's gay unthinking conduct bring
them to the very brink of separating for ever ;
and very few scenes in any novel have a finer
effect than the intended parting of the lovers,
VOL. XXVIII. a
ii MRS. INCHBALD.
and their sudden, immediate, unexpected mar-
riage.
It is impossible not to sympathize with the feel-
ings of Miss Milner, when she sees the corded
trunks standing in the passage ; or again, when
after their reconciliation she. sees the carriage
which was to take away her }over chive empty
from the door. The character of the ward of
Dorriforth is so drawn as to excite an interest
such as we seldom feel for more faultless cha-
racters. Young, sprightly, full of sensibility,
gay and thoughtless, we feel such a tenderness
for her as we should for a child -who is placing
on the brink of a precipice. The break between
the first and second parts of the story has a sin-
gularly fine effect. We pass over in a m.oment
a large space of years, and find every thing
changed : scenes of love and conjugal happiness
are vanished ; and for the young, gay, thought-
less, youthful beauty, we see a broken-hearted
penitent on her death-bed.
This sudden shifting of the scene has an effect
which no continued narrative could produce ; an
effect which even the scenes of real life could
not produce; for the curtain of futurity is lifted
up only by degrees, arid we must wait the slow
succession of months and years to bring about
events which are here presented close together.
The death-bed letter of Lady Milner is very so-
lemn, and cannot, be perused without tears.
Dorriforth in these latter volumes is become,
from the contemplation of his injuries, morose,
unrelenting, and tyrannical. How far it was
possible for a man to resist the atrong impulse
of nature, and deny himself the sight of his
MRS. INCHBALD. iii
child residing in the same house with him, the
reader will determinne ; but the situation is new
and striking.
It is a particular beauty in Mrs. Inchbald's
compositions, that they are thrown so much in-
to the dramatic form. There is little of mere
narrative, and in what there is of it, the style is
careless ; but all the interesting parts are carried
on in dialogue : we see and hear the persons
themselves; we are but little led to think of the
author, and it is only w'hen we have done feel-
ing that we begin to admire.
The only other novel which Mrs. Inchbald,
has given to the public is Nature and Ait. It
is of a slighter texture than the former, and put
together without much attention to probability;
the author's object being less to give a regular
story than to suggest reflections on the political
and moral state of society. For this purpose
two youths are introduced, one of whom is edu-
cated in all the ideas and usages of civilized life;
the other (the child of Nature) without any
knowledge of or regard to them. This is the
frame which has been used by Mr. Day and
others for the same purpose, and naturally tends
to introduce remarks more lively than solid, and
strictures more epigrammatic than logical, on
the differences between rich and poor, the regard
paid to rank, and such topics, on which it is
easy to dilate with an appearance of reason and
humanity ; while it requires a much profounder
philosophy to suggest any alteration in the social
system, which would not be rather Utop'ar than
beneficial.
iv MRS. TNCHBALD.
There is a beautiful stroke in this part of the
work, where Henry, who, according to Rous-
seau's plan, had not been taught to pray till he
was of an age to know what he was doing, kneels
down for the first time with great emotion; and
on being asked if he was not afraid to speak to
God, says, " To be sure I trembled very much
when I first knelt, but when I came to the words
'Our Father who art in heaven,' they gave
me courage, for I know how kind a father is."
But by far the finest passage in this novel is
the meeting between Hannah and her seducer,
when he is seated as judge upon the bench, and,
without recollecting the former object of his af-
fection, pronounces sentence of death upon her.
The shriek she gives, and her exclamation, " Oh,
not from you ! " electrifies the reader, and cannot
but stir the coldest feelings.
Judgement and observation may sketch cha-
racters, and often put together a good story ;
but strokes of pathos, such as the one just men-
tioned, or the dying-scene in Mrs. Opie's Father
and Daughter, can only be attained by those
whom nature has endowed with her choicest
gifts.
One cannot help wishing the author had been
a little more liberal of happiness to poor Henry,
who sits down contented with poverty and his
half-withered Rebecca.
There is another wish the public has often
formed, namely, that these two productions were
not the only novels of such a writer as Mrs.
Inchbald.
SIMPLE STORY.
CHAPTER I.
DORRI FORTH, bred at St. Omer's, in all the
scholastic rigour of that college, was, by edu-
cation and the solemn vows of his order, a Roman
Catholic priest : but, nicely discriminating between
the philosophical and the superstitious part of that
character, he adopted the former only, and pos-
sessed qualities not unworthy of the first pro-
fessors of Christianity. Every virtue which it was
his vocation to preach, it was his care to practise :
nor was he in the class of those of the religious,
who, by secluding themselves from the world, fly
from the merit they might acquire in reforming
mankind. He refused to shelter himself from the
temptations of the layman by the walls of a cloister;
but sought for, and found that shelter within the
centre of London where he dwelt, in his own pru-
dence, justice, fortitude, and temperance.
He was about thirty, and had lived in the metro-
polis near five years, when a gentleman, above his
VOL. XXVIII. B
2 A SIMPLE STORY.
own age, but with whom he had in his youth con-
tracted a sincere friendship, died, and left him the
sole guardian of his daughter, who was then eigh-
teen.
The deceased Mr. Milner, on his approaching
dissolution, perfectly sensible of his state, thus rea-
soned with himself before he made the nomination :
" I have formed no intimate friendship during my
whole life, except one : I can be said to know the
heart of no man, except the heart of Dorriforth.
After knowing his, I never sought acquaintance
with another ; I did not wish to lessen the exalted
estimation of human nature which he had inspired.
In this moment of trembling apprehension for every
thought which darts across my mind, and more for
every action which soon I must be called to answer
for ; all worldly views here thrown aside, I act as if
that tribunal, before which I every moment expect
to appear, were now sitting in judgment upon my
purpose. The care of an only child is the great
charge which in this tremendous crisis I have to
execute. These earthly affections that bind me to
her by custom, sympathy, or what I fondly call pa-
rental love, would direct me to consult her present
happiness, and leave her to the care of those whom
she thinks her dearest friends ; but they are friends
only in the sunshine of fortune : in the cold nip-
ping frost of disappointment, sickness, or connubial
strife, they will forsake the house of care, although
the very fabric which they may have themselves
erected."
Here the excruciating anguish of the father over-
came that of the dying man.
" In the moment of desertion," continued he,
" which I now picture to myself, where will my
child find comfort ? That heavenly aid which reli-
gion provides, and which now, amidst these agoniz-
A SIMPLE STORY. 3
ing tortures, cheers with humble hope my afflicted
soul; that she will be denied."
It is in this place proper to remark, that Mr.
Milner was a member of the Church of Rome, but
on his marriage with a lady of Protestant tenets,
they mutually agreed their sons should be educated
in the religious opinion of their father, and their
daughters in that of their mother. One child only
was the result of their union; the child whose future
welfare now occupied the anxious thoughts of her
expiring father. From him the care of her educa-
tion had been withheld, as he kept inviolate his pro-
mise to her departed mother on the article of reli-
gion, and therefore consigned his daughter to a
boarding-school for Protestants, whence she re-
turned with merely such ideas of piety as ladies
of fashion, at her age, mostly imbibe. Her little
heart, employed in all the endless pursuits of per-
sonal accomplishments, hid left her mind without
one ornament, except such as Nature gave ; and
even they were not wholly preserved from the
ravages made by its rival, Art.
While her father was in health he beheld, with
extreme delight, his accomplished daughter, with-
out one fault which taste or elegance could have
imputed to her ; nor ever inquired what might be
her other failings. But, cast on a bed of sickness,
and upon the point of leaving her to her fate, those
failings at once rushed on his thought ; and all the
pride, the fond enjoyment he had taken in behold-
ing her open the ball, or delight her hearers with
her wit or song, escaped his remembrance, or, not
escaping it, were lamented with a sigh of compas-
sion, or a contemptuous frown at such frivolous
qualifications.
" Something essential," said he to himself, " must
be considered something to prepare her for an
n 2
4 A SIMPLE STORY.
hour like this. Can I then leave her to the charge
of those who themselves never remember such an
hour will come ? Dorriforth is the only person I
know, who, uniting the moral virtues to those of
religion, and pious faith to native honour, will pro-
tect without controuling, instruct without tyranniz-
ing, comfort without flattering; and, perhaps in
time, make good by choice, rather than by con-
straint, the tender object of his dying friend's sole
care."
Dorriforth, who came post from London to visit
Mr. Milner in his illness, received a few moments
before his death all his injunctions, and promised to
fulfil them. But, in this last token of his friend's
perfect esteem, he still was restrained from all
authority to direct his ward in one religious opi-
nion, contrary to those her mother had professed,
and in which she herself had been educated.
" Never perplex her mind with any opinions that
may disturb, but cannot reform," were his latest
words ; and Dorriforth's reply gave him entire
satisfaction.
Miss Milner was not with her father at this affect-
ing period : some delicately nervous friend, with
whom she was on a visit at Bath, thought proper to
conceal from her not only the danger of his death,
but even his indisposition, lest it might alarm a mind
she thought too susceptible. This refined tender-
ness gave poor Miss Milner the almost insupport-
able agony of hearing that her father was no more,
even before she was told he was not in health. In
the bitterest anguish she flew to pay her last duty
to his remains, and performed it with the truest
filial love; while Dorriforth, upon important busi-
ness, was obliged to return to town.
A SIMPLE STORY.
CHAPTER II.
Dorri forth returned to London heavily afflicted
for the loss of his friend ; and yet, perhaps, with his
thoughts more engaged upon the trust which that
friend had reposed in hiin. He knew the life Miss
Milner had been accustomed to lead : he dreaded
the repulses his admonitions might possibly meet ;
and feared he had undertaken a task he was too
weak to execute the protection of a young woman
of fashion.
Mr. Dorriforth was nearly related to one of our
first Catholic peers ; his income was by no means
confined, but approaching to affluence ; yet such
was his attention to those in poverty, and the mode-
ration of his own desires, that he lived in all the
careful plainness of economy. His habitation was
in the house of a Mrs. Horton, an elderly gentlewo-
man, who had a maiden niece residing with her, not
many years younger than herself. But, although
Miss Woodley was thirty-five, and in person ex-
ceedingly plain, yet she possessed such cheerful-
ness of temper, and such an inexhaustible fund of
good nature, that she escaped not only the ridicule,
but even the appellation of an old maid.
In this house Dorriforth had lived before the
death of Mr. Horton ; nor upon that event had he
thought it necessary, notwithstanding his religious
vow of celibacy, to fly the roof of two such innocent
females as Mrs. Horton and her niece. On their
part, they regarded him with all that respect and
reverence which the most religious flock shows to
its pastor ; and his friendly society they not only es-
teemed a spiritual, but a temporal advantage, as the
liberal stipend he allowed for his apartments and
board, enabled them to continue in the large and
B3
A SIMPLE STORY.
commodious house which they had occupied during
the life of Mr. Horton.
Here, upon Mr. Dorriforth's return from his
journey, preparations were commenced for the re-
ception of his ward ; her father having made it his
request that she might, for a time at least, reside in
the same house with her guardian, receive the same
visits, and cultivate the acquaintance of his com-
panions and friends.
When the will of her father was made known to
Miss Milner, she submitted, without the least re-
luctance, to all he had required. Her mind, at that
time impressed with the most poignant sorrow for
his loss, made no distinction of happiness that was
to come ; and the day was appointed, with her silent
acquiescence, when she was to arrive in London,
and there take up her abode, with all the retinue of
a rich heiress.
Mrs. Horton was delighted with the addition this
acquisition to her family was likely to make to her
annual income, and style of living. The good-
natured Miss Woodley was overjoyed at the expect-
ation of their new guest, yet she herself could not
tell why ; but the reason was, that her kind heart
wanted a more ample field for its benevolence : and
now her thoughts were all pleasingly employed how
she should render, not only the lady herself, but
even all her attendants, happy in their new situa-
tion.
The reflections of Dorriforth were less agreeably
engaged : cares, doubts, fears, possessed his mind
and so forcibly possessed it, that upon every oc-
casion which offered, he would inquisitively endea-
vour to gain intelligence of his ward's disposition
before he saw her ; for he was, as yet, a stranger
not only to the real propensities of her mind, but
even to her person ; a constant round of visits, having
A SIMPLE STORY. 7
prevented his meeting her at her father's, the very
few times he had been at his house, since her final
return from school. The first person whose opi-
nion he, with all proper reserve, asked concerning
Miss Milner, was Lady Evans, the widow of a ba-
ronet, who frequently visited at Mrs. Horton's
But that the reader may be interested in what
Dorriforth says and does, it is necessary to give
tome description of his person and manners. His
figure was tall and elegant ; but his face, except a
pair of dark bright eyes, a set of white teeth, and a
graceful arrangement in his clerical curls of brown
hair, had not one feature to excite admiration yet
such a gleam of sensibility was diffused over each,
that many persons admired his visage as completely
handsome, and all were more or less attracted by it.
In a word, the charm, that is here meant to be
described, is a countenance on his you read the
feelings of his heart saw all its inmost workings
the quick pulses that beat with hope and fear, or the
gentle ones that moved in a more equal course of
patience and resignation. On this countenance his
thoughts were pourtrayed ; and as his mind was en-
riched with every virtue that could make it valuable,
so was his face adorned with every expression of
those virtues; and they not only gave a lustre to
his aspect, but added an harmonious sound to all he
uttered; it was persuasive, it was perfect eloquence:
whilst in his looks you beheld his thoughts moving
with his lips, and ever coinciding with what he
said.
With one of those expressions of countenance,
which revealed anxiety of heart, and yet with that
graceful restraint of all gesticulation, for which he
was remarkable, even in his most anxious concerns,
he addressed Lady Evans, who had called on Mrs.
Horton to hear and to request the news of the day :
8 A SIMPLE STORY.
" Your ladyship was at Bath last spring you know
the young lady to whom I have the honour of being
appointed guardian. Pray"
He was earnestly intent upon asking a question,
but was prevented by the person interrogated.
" Dear Mr. Dorriforth, do not ask me any thing
about Miss Milner : when I saw her she was very
young ; though indeed that is but three months ago,
and she can't be much older now."
" She is eighteen," answered Dorriforth, colour-
ing with regret at the doubts which this lady had
increased, but not inspired.
*' And she is very beautiful that I can assure
you," said Lady Evans.
" Which I call no qualification," said Dorriforth,
rising from his chair in evident uneasiness.
" But where there is nothing else, let me tell you,
beauty is something."
" Much worse than nothing, in my opinion," re-
turned Dorriforth.
' But now, Mr. Dorriforth, do not from what I
have said, frighten yourself, and imagine your ward
worse than she really is. All I know of her is
merely, that she's young, idle, indiscreet, and
giddy, with half a dozen lovers in her suite ; some
coxcombs, others men of gallantry, some single,
and others married."
Dorriforth started. " For the first time of my
life," cried he with a manly sorrow, " I wish I had
never known her father."
" Nay," said Mrs. Horton, who expected every
thing to happen just as she wished, (for neither an
excellent education, the best company, nor long
experience had been able to cultivate or brighten
this good lady's understanding) " Nay," said she
" I am sure, Mr. Dorriforth, you will soon convert
her from all her evil ways."
A SIMPLE STORY.
" Dear me," returned Lady Evans, " I am sure
I never meant to hint at any thing evil ; and for
what I have said, I will give you up my authors if
you please ; for they were not observations of my
own : all I do is to mention them again."
The good-natured Miss Woodley, who sat work-
ing at the window, an humble, but an attentive
listener to this discourse, ventured here to say ex-
actly six words : " Then don't mention them any
more."
" Let us change the subject," said Dorriforth.
" With all my heart," cried Lady Evans ; " and
I am sure it will be to the young lady's advantage."
" Is Miss Miluer tall or short?" asked Mrs. Hor-
ton, still wishing for farther information.
" Oh, tall enough of all conscience," returned
she : " I tell you again that no fault can be found
with her person."
" But if her mind is defective" exclaimed Dor-
riforth, with a sigh
" That may be improved as well as the person,"
cried Miss Woodley.
" No, my dear," returned Lady Evans, " I never
heard of a pad to make straight an ill-shapen dis-
position."
" Oh, yes," answered Miss Woodley: " good
company, good books, experience, and the misfor-
tunes of others, may have more power to form the
mind to virtue, than "
Miss Woodley was not permitted to proceed ; for
Lady Evans, rising hastily from her seat, cried, " I
must be gone I have an hundred people waiting
forme at home besides, were I inclined to hear a
sermon, I should desire Mr. Dorriforth to preach,
and not you."
Just then Mrs. Hillgrave was announced. " And
here is Mrs. Hillgrave," continued she " I be-
10 A SIMPLE STORY.
lieve, Mrs. Hillgrave, you knew Miss Milner; don't
you ? The young lady who has lately lost her fa-
ther?"
Mrs. Hillgrave was the wife of a merchant who
had met with severe losses : as soon as the name of
Miss Milner was uttered, she lifted up her hands,
and the tears started in her eyes.
"There!" cried Lady Evans, " I desire you will
give your opinion of her, and I am sorry 1 cannot
stay to hear it." Saying this, she curtsied and took
her leave.
When Mrs. Hillgrave had been seated a few
minutes, Mrs. Horton, who loved information equal-
ly with the most inquisitive of her sex, asked the
new visitor " if she might be permitted to know,
why, at the mention of Miss Milner, she had seemed
so much affected."
This question exciting the fears of Dorriforth, he
turned anxiously round, attentive to the reply.
" Miss Milner," answered she, " has been my
benefactress, and the best I ever had." As she
spoke, she took out her handkerchief and wiped
away the tears that ran down her face.
" How so?" cried Dorriforth eagerly, with his
own eyes moistened with joy, nearly as much as
hers were with gratitude.
" My husband, at the commencement of his dis-
tresses," replied Mrs. Hillgrave, " owed a sum of
money to her father, and from repeated provoca-
tions, Mr. Milner was determined to seize upon all
our effects. His daughter, however, by her inter-
cessions, procured us time, in order to discharge
the debt ; and when she found that time was insuf-
ficient, and her father no longer to be dissuaded
from his intention, she secretly sold some of her
most valuable ornaments to satisfy his demand, and
screen us from its consequences.
A SIMPLE STORY. 11
Dorriforth, pleased at this recital, took Mrs. Hil-
grave by the hand, and told her, " she should never
want a friend."
" Is Miss Milner tall, or short?" again asked
Mrs. Horton, fearing, from the sudden pause which
had ensued, the subject should be dropped.
" I don't know," answered Mrs. Hillgrave.
" Is she handsome, or ugly?"
" I really can't tell."
" It is very strange you should not take notice."
" I did take notice, but I cannot depend upon
my own judgment. To me she appeared beautiful as
an angel ; but perhaps I was deceived by the beau-
ties of her disposition."
CHAPTER III.
This gentlewoman's visit inspired Mr. Dorriforth
with some confidence in the principles and character
of his ward. The day arrived on which she was to
leave her late father's seat, and fix her abode at Mrs.
Horton's ; and her guardian, accompanied by Miss
Woodley, went in his carriage to meet her, and
waited at an inn on the road for her reception.
After many a sigh paid to the memory of her fa-
ther, Miss Milner, upon the tenth of November,
arrived at the place, half-way on her journey to
town, where Dorriforth and Miss Woodley were
expecting her. Besides attendants, she had with
her a gentleman and lady, distant relations of her
mother's, who thought it but a proper testimony of
their civility to attend her part of the way, but
who so much envied her guardian the trust Mr.
Milner had reposed in him, that as soon as they had
delivered her safe into his care, they returned.
12 A SIMPLE STORY.
When the carriage, which hrought Miss Milner,
stopped at the inn gate, and her name was an-
nounced to Dorriforth, he turned pale something
like a foreboding of disaster trembled at his heart,
and consequently spread a gloom over all his face.
Miss Woodley was even obliged to rouse him
from the dejection into which he was cast, or he
would have sunk beneath it : she was obliged also
to be the first to welcome his lovely charge
lovely beyond description.
But the natural vivacity, the gaiety which report
had given to Miss Milner, were softened by her re-
cent sorrow to a meek sadness and that haughty
display of charms, imputed to her manners, was
changed to a pensive demeanour. The instant Dor-
riforth was introduced to her by Miss Woodley as
her " guardian, and her deceased fathers most
beloved friend," she burst into tears, knelt down to
him for a moment, and promised ever to obey him
as her father. He had his handkerchief to his face
at the time, or she would have beheld the agitation
the femotest sensations of his heart.
z : This affecting introduction being over, after some
minutes passed in general conversation, the car-
riages were again ordered ; and, bidding farewel to
the relations who had accompanied her, Miss Milner,
her guardian, and Miss Woodley departed for town;
the two ladies in Miss Milner's carriage, and Dorri-
forth in that in which she came.
Miss Woodley, as they rode along, made no at-
tempts to ingratiate herself with Miss Milner ;
though, perhaps, such an honour might constitute
one of her first wishes : she behaved to her but as
she constantly behaved to every other human crea-
ture and that was sufficient to gain the esteem of
a person possessed of an understanding equal to Miss
Milner's. She had penetration to discover Miss
A SIMPLE STORY. 13
Wood ley's unaffected worth, and was soon induced
to reward it with the wannest friendship.
CHAPTER IV.
After a night's rest in London ; less violently im-
pressed with the loss of her father, reconciled, if
not already attached to her new acquaintance, her
thoughts pleasingly occupied with the reflection that
she was in that gay metropolis a wild and rap-
turous picture of which her active fancy had often
formed ; Miss Milner waked from a peaceful and
refreshing sleep, with much of that vivacity, and
with all those airy charms, which for a while had
yielded their transcendent power to the weaker- in-
fluence of her filial sorrow.
Beautiful as she had appeared to Miss Woodley
and to Dorriforth on the preceding day, when she
joined them this morning at breakfast, re-possessed
of her lively elegance and dignified simplicity, they
gazed at her, and at each other alternately, with
astonishment : and Mrs. Horton, as she sat at the
head of her tea-table, felt herself but as a menial
servant ; such command has beauty when united
with sense and virtue. In Miss Milner it was so
.united. Yet let not our over-scrupulous readers be
misled_, and extend their idea of her virtue so as to
magnify it beyond that which frail mortals com-
jnonly possess ; nor must they cavil, if, on a nearer
view, they find it less ; but let them consider, that
if she had more faults than generally belong to
others, she had likewise more temptations.
From her infancy she had been indulged in all her
wishes to the extreme of folly, and started habitually
at the unpleasant voice of control. She was beauti-
vol, xxvm. c
14 A SIMPLE STORY.
ful ; she had been too frequently told the high value
of that beauty, and thought every moment passed in
wasteful idleness during which she was not gaining
some new conquest. She had a quick sensibility,
which too frequently discovered itself in the imme-
diate resentment of injuries or neglect. She had,
besides, acquired the dangerous character of a wit ;
but to which she had no real pretensions, although
the most discerning critic, hearing her converse,
might fall into this mistake. Her replies had all the
effect of repartee, not because she possessed those
qualities which can properly be called wit, but that
what she said was delivered with an energy, an in-
stantaneous and powerful conception of the senti-
ment, joined with a real or a well-counterfeited sim-
plicity, a quick turn of the eye, and an arch smile.
Her words were but the words of others, and, like
those of others, put into common sentences: but the
delivery made them pass for wit, as grace in an ill-
proportioned figure will often make it pass for sym-
metry.
And now, leaving description, the reader must
form a judgment of the ward of Dorriforth by her
actions ; by all the round of great or trivial circum-
stances that shall be related.
At breakfast, which had just begun at the com-
mencement of this chapter, the conversation was
lively on the part of Miss Milner, wise on the part of
Dorriforth, good on the part of Miss Woodley, and
an endeavour at all three of those qualities on the
part of Mrs. Horton. The discourse at length drew
from Mr. Dorriforth this observation :
" You have a greater resemblance of your father,
Miss Milner, than I imagined you had from report :
I did not expect to find you so like him."
" Nor did I, Mr. Dorriforth, expect to find you;
any thing like what you are ! "
A SIMPLE STORY. 16
" No ! pray what did you expect to find me?"
" I expected to find you an elderly man, and a
j)lain man."
This was spoken in an artless manner, but in a
tone which obviously declared she thought her guar-
dian both young and handsome. He replied, but
:not without some little embarrassment, " A plain
rman you shall find m& in all my actions."
" Then your actions are to contradict your ap-
pearance."
For in what she said, Miss Milner had the quality
peculiar to wits, of hazarding the thought that first
occurs, which thought is generally truth. On this,
he paid her a compliment in return :
" You, Miss Milner, I should suppose, must be
a very bad judge of what is plain, and what is not."
" How so?"
" Because I am sure you will readily own you do
not think yourself handsome; and allowing that, you
instantly want judgment."
" And I would rather want judgment than beau-
ty," she replied ; " and so I give up the one for the
other."
With a serious face, as if proposing a very serious
question, Dorriforth continued, " And you really
believe you are not handsome?"
" I should, if I consulted my own opinion, believe
that I was not: but in some respects I am like Roman
Catholics; I don't believe upon my own understand-
ing, but from what other people tell me."
" And let this convince you," replied Dorriforth,
" that what we teach is truth ; for you find you would
be deceived, did you not trust to persons who know
better than yourself. But, my dear Miss Milner, we
will talk upon some other topic, and never resume
this again. We differ in opinion, I dare say, on one
subject only ; and this difference I hope will never
c 2
10 A SIMPLE STORY.
extend itself to any other. Therefore, let not reli-
gion be named between us ; for as I have resolved
never to persecute you, in pity be grateful, and do
not persecute me."
Miss Milner looked with surprise that any thing
so lightly said should be so seriously received.
The kind Miss Woodley ejaculated a short prayer
to herself, that Heaven would forgive her young
friend the involuntary sin of religious ignorance ;
while Mrs. Horton, unperceived, as she imagined,
made the sign of the cross upon her forehead, as a
guard against the infectious taint of heretical opi-
nions. This pious ceremony Miss Milner by chance
observed, and now shewed such an evident propen-
sity to burst into a fit of laughter, that the good
lady of the house could no longer contain her re-
sentment, but exclaimed, " God forgive you," with
a severity so different from the sentiment which the
words conveyed, that the object of her anger was,
on this, obliged freely to indulge that impulse which
she had in vain been struggling to suppress ; and no
longer suffering under the agony of restraint, she
gave way to her humour, and laughed with a liberty
so uncontrolled, that it soon left her in the room
with none but the tender-hearted Miss Woodley a
witness of her folly.
" My dear Miss Woodley," then cried Miss Mil-
ner, after recovering herself, " I am afraid you
will not forgive me."
" No, indeed I will not," returned Miss Wood-
But how unimportant, how weak, how ineffectual
are words in conversation, looks and manners alone
express : for Miss Woodley, with her charitable face
and mild accents, saying she would not forgive im-
plied only forgiveness ; while Mrs. Horton, with her
enraged voice and aspect, begging Heaven to par-
A SIMPLE STORY. 17
don the offender, palpably said, she thought her
unworthy of all pardon.
CHAPTER V.
Six weeks have now elapsed since Miss Milner has
been in London, partaking with delight all its plea-
sures ; while Dorriforth has been sighing with appre-
hension, attending to all her words and ways with
precaution, and praying with zealous fervour for her
safety. Her own and her guardian's acquaintance,
and, added to them, the new friendships (to use the
unmeaning language of the world) which she was
continually forming, crowded so perpetually to the
house, that seldom had Dorriforth even a moment
left him from her visits or visitors, to warn her of
her danger : yet when a moment offered, he caught
it eagerly pressed the necessity of " time not al-
ways passed in society ; of reflection, of reading, of
thoughts for a future state, and of virtues acquired
to make old age supportable." That forcible power
of genuine feeling, which directs the tongue to elo-
quence, had its effect while she listened to him, and
she sometimes put on the looks and gesture of
assent : sometimes even spoke the language of
conviction ; but this the first call of dissipation
would change to ill-timed raillery, or peevish re-
monstrance, at being limited in delights which her
birth and fortune entitled her to enjoy.
Among the many visitors who attended at her
levees, and followed her wherever she went, there
was one who seemed, even when absent from her,
to share her thoughts. This was Lord Frederick
Lawnley, the younger son of a duke, and the avowed
favourite of all the most discerning women of taste,
c 3
18 A SIMPLE STORY.
He was not more than twenty-three ; animated,
elegant, extremely handsome, and possessed of every
accomplishment that would captivate a heart less
susceptible of love than Miss Milner's was supposed
to be. With these allurements, no wonder if she
took pleasure in his company ; no wonder if she
took pride in having it known that he was among
the number of her devoted admirers. Dorriforth
beheld this growing intimacy with alternate pain
and pleasure : he wished to see Miss Milner married,
to see his charge in the protection of another, rather
than of himself; yet under the care of a young
nobleman, immersed in all the vices of the town,
without one moral excellence, but such as might
result eventually from the influence of the moment
under such care he trembled for her happiness ;
yet trembled more lest her heart should be purloined
without even the authority of matrimonial views.
With sentiments like these, Dorriforth could
never disguise his uneasiness at the sight of Lord
Frederick ; nor could the latter want penetration to
discern the suspicion of the guardian, and conse-
quently each was embarrassed in the presence of
the other. Miss Milner observed, but observed
with indifference, the sensations of both : there was
but one passion which then held a place in her
bosom, and that was vanity ; vanity defined into all
the species of pride, vain-glory, self-approbation[;
an inordinate desire of admiration, and an immo-
derate enjoyment of the art of pleasing, for her own
individual happiness, and not for the happiness of
others. Still had she a heart inclined, and often-
times affected by tendencies less unworthy; but
those approaches to what was estimable, were in
their first impulse too frequently met and inter-
cepted by some darling folly.
Miss Woodley (who could easily discover a vir-
A SIMPLE STORY. 19
tue, although of the most diminutive kind, and
scarcely through the magnifying glass of calumny
could ever perceive a fault) was Miss Milner's in-
separable companion at home, and her zealous
advocate with Dorriforth, whenever, during her ab-
sence, she became the subject of discourse. He
listened with hope to the praises of her friend, but
saw with despair how little they were merited.
Sometimes he struggled to subdue his anger, but
oftener strove to suppress tears of pity for his ward's
hapless state.
By this time all her acquaintance had given Lord
Frederick to her as a lover ; the servants whispered
it, and some of the public prints had even fixed the
day of marriage : but as no explanation had taken
place on his part, Dorriforth's uneasiness was in-
creased ; and he seriously told Miss Milner, he
thought it would be indispensably prudent in her to
entreat Lord Frederick to discontinue his visits.
She smiled with ridicule at the caution ; but finding
it repeated, and in a manner that indicated authority,
she promised not only to make, but to enforce the
request. The next time he came, she did so ; as-
suring him it was by her guardian's desire, " who,
from motives of delicacy, had permitted her to so-
licit as a favour what he could himself make as a
demand." Lord Frederick reddened with anger :
he loved Miss Milner ; but he doubted whether,
from the frequent proofs he had experienced of his
own inconstancy, he should continue to love ; and
this interference of her guardian threatened an
explanation or a dismission, before he became tho-
roughly acquainted with his own heart. Alarmed,
confounded, and provoked, he replied,
" By Heaven, I believe Mr. Dorriforth loves you
himself; and it is jealousy alone that makes him
treat me in this manner."
20 A SIMPLE STORY.
" For shame, my lord ! " cried Miss Woodley,
who was present, and who trembled with horror at
the sacrilegious supposition.
" Nay, shame to him, if he is not in love," an-
swered his lordship ; " for who but a savage could
behold beauty like hers without owning its power?"
" Habit," replied Miss Milner, " is every thing :
Mr. Dorriforth sees and converses with beauty ;
but, from habit, he does not fall in love ; and you,
my lord, from habit, often do."
" Then you believe that love is not in my dispo-
sition?"
" No more of it, my lord, than habit could very
soon extinguish."
" But I would not have it extinguished I would
rather it should mount to a flame ; for I think it a
crime to be insensible of the divine blessings love
can bestow."
" Then you indulge the passion to avoid a sin?
This very motive deters Mr. Dorriforth from that
indulgence."
" It ought to deter him, for the sake of his oaths;
but monastic vows, like those of marriage, were
made to be broken : and surely when your guardian
cast his eyes on you, his wishes "
" Are never less pure," she replied eagerly, " than
those which dwell in the bosom of my celestial
guardian."
At that instant Dorriforth entered the room. The
colour had mounted into Miss Milner's face, from
the warmth with which she had delivered her
opinion ; and his accidental entrance at the very
moment this praise had been conferred upon him in
his absence, heightened the blush to a deep glow on
every feature : confusion and earnestness caused
even her lips to tremble and her whole frame to
shake.
A SIMPLE STORY. 21
" What is the matter ?" cried Dorriforth, looking
with concern on her discomposure.
" A compliment paid by herself to you, sir," re-
plied Lord Frederick, " has affected your ward in
the manner" you have seen."
" As if she blushed at the untruth," said Dorri-
forth.
" Nay, that is unkind," cried Miss Woodley ;
" for if you had been here"
" I would not have said what I did," replied
Miss Milner, " but had left him to vindicate himself."
" Is it possible that I can want any vindication ?
Who would think it worth their while to slander
so unimportant a person as I am?"
" The man who has the charge of Miss Milner/'
replied Lord Frederick, "derives a consequence from
her."
" No ill consequence, I hope, my lord I" said
Dorriforth, with a firmness in his voice, and with an
eye so fixed, that his antagonist hesitated for a mo-
ment in want of a reply ; and Miss Milner softly
whispering to him, as her guardian turned his head,
to avoid an argument, he bowed acquiescence.
Then, as if in compliment to her, he changed the
subject ; and with an air of ridicule he cried,
" I wish, Mr. Dorriforth, you would give me ab-
solution of all my sins, for I confess they are many,
and manifold."
" Hold, my lord," exclaimed Dorriforth, " do not
confess before the ladies, lest, in order to excite
their compassion, you should be tempted to accuse
yourself of sins you have never yet committed."
At this Miss Milner laughed, seemingly so well
pleased, that Lord Frederick, with a sarcastic sneer,
repeated,
From Abelarri it came,
" And Elo'ua Mill must love the name."
22 A SIMrLE STORY.
Whether from an inattention to the quotation, or
from a consciousness it was wholly inapplicable,
Dorriforth heard it without one emotion of shame
or of anger while Miss Milner seemed shocked at
the implication ; her pleasantry was immediately
suppressed, and she threw open the sash and held
her head out at the window, to conceal the embar-
rassment these lines had occasioned.
The Earl of Elmwood was at that juncture an-
nounced a Catholic nobleman, just come of age,
and on the eve of marriage. His visit was to his
cousin, Mr. Dorriforth ; but as all ceremonious visits
were alike received by Dorriforth, Miss Milner, and
Mrs. Horton's family, in one common apartment,
Lord Elmwood was ushered into this, and of course
directed the conversation to a different topic.
CHAPTER VI.
With an anxious desire that the affection, or ac-
quaintance, between Lord Frederick and Miss
Milner might be finally dissolved, her guardian
received with infinite satisfaction, overtures of mar-
riage from Sir Edward Ashton. Sir Edward was
not young or handsome, old or ugly, but immensely
rich and possessed of qualities that made him
worthy of the happiness to which he aspired. He
was the man whom Dorriforth would have chosen
before any other for the husband of his ward ; and
his wishes made him sometimes hope, against his
cooler judgment, that Sir Edward would not be re-
jected. He was resolved, at all events, to try the
force of his own power in the strongest recommenda-
tion of him.
Notwithstanding that dissimilarity of opinion
A SIMPLE STORY. 23
which, in almost every instance, subsisted between
Miss Milner and her guardian, there was in general
the most punctilious observance of good manners
from each towards the other on the part of Dorri-
forth more especially ; for his politeness would some-
times appear even like the result of a system which
he had marked out for himself, as the only means-
to keep his ward restrained within the same limita-
tions. Whenever he addressed her there was an
unusual reserve upon his countenance, and more
than usual gentleness in the tone of his voice :
this appeared the effect of sentiments which her
birth and situation inspired, joined to a studied
mode of respect, best calculated to enforce the
same from her. The wished-for consequence was
produced ; for though there was an instinctive rec-
titude in the understanding of Miss Milner that
would have taught her, without other instruction,
what manners to observe towards her deputed
father ; yet, from some volatile thought, or some
quick sense of feeling, which she had not been ac-
customed to correct, she was perpetually on the
verge of treating him with levity ; but he would on
the instant recal her recollection by a reserve too
awful, and a gentleness too sacred for her to violate.
The distinction which both required was thus, by
his skilful management alone, preserved.
One morning he took an opportunity, before her
and Miss Woodley, to introduce and press the sub-
ject of Sir Edward Ashton's hopes. He first spoke
warmly in his praise ; then plainly said that he be-
lieved she possessed the power of making so deserv-
ing a man happy to the summit of his wishes. A
laugh of ridicule was the only answer ; but a sud-
den frown from Dorriforth having silenced her
mirth, he resumed his usual politeness, and said,
" I wish you would show a better taste than thus
pointedly to disapprove of Sir Edward."
24 A SIMPLE STORY.
" How, Mr. Dorriforth, can you expect me to
give proofs of a good taste, when Sir Edward,
whom you consider with such high esteem, has
given so bad an example of his, in approving me?"
Dorriforth wished not to flatter her by a compli-
ment she seemed to have sought for, and for a mo-
ment hesitated what answer to make.
" Reply, sir, to that question," she said.
" Why then, madam," returned he, " it is my
opinion, that supposing what your humility has ad-
vanced be just, yet Sir Edward will not suffer by the
suggestion; for in cases where the heart is so imme-
diately concerned, as I believe Sir Edward's to be,
taste, or rather reason, has little power to act."
" You are in the right, Mr. Dorriforth : this is a
proper justification of Sir Edward and when I fall
in love, I beg that you will make the same excuse
for me."
" Then," said he, earnestly, " before your heart
is in that state which I have described, exert your
reason."
" I shall," answered she, " and assuredly not
consent to marry a man whom I could never love."
" Unless your heart be already disposed of, Miss
Milner, what can make you speak with such a de-
gree of certainty 1 "
He thought on Lord Frederick when he uttered
this, and he rivetted his eyes upon her as if to
penetrate her most secret inclinations, and yet
trembling for what he might find there. She blush-
ed, and her looks would have confirmed her guilty,
if the unembarrassed and free tone of her voice,
more than her words, had not preserved her from
that sentence.
" No," she replied, " my heart is not stolen away ;
and yet I can venture to declare, that Sir Edward
will never possess it."
" 1 am sorry, for both your sakes, that these are
A SIMPLE STORY. 25
your sentiments," he replied. " But as your heart
is still your own," and he seemed rejoiced to find
it was, " permit me to warn you how you part with
a thing so precious. The dangers, the sorrows you
hazard in bestowing it, are greater than you may
possibly be aware of. The heart once gone, our
thoughts, our actions, are no more our own, than
that is." He seemed forcing himself to utter .
all this; and yet he broke off as if he could have said
much more, if the extreme delicacy of the subject
had not restricted him.
When he left the room, and she heard the door
close after him, she said, with an inquisitive thought-
fulness, " What can make good people so skilled in
all the weaknesses of the bad ? Mr. Dorriforth, with
all those prudent admonitions, appears rather like a
man who has passed his life in the gay world, ex-
perienced all its dangerous allurements, all its re-
pentant sorrows, than like one who has lived his
whole time secluded in a monastic college, or in his
own study. Then he speaks with such exquisite
sensibility on the subject of love, that he commends
the very thing which he attempts to depreciate. I
do not think my Lord Frederick would make the
passion appear in more pleasing colours by painting
its delights, than Mr. Dorriforth could in describing
its sorrows; and if he talks to me frequently in this
manner, I shall certainly take pity on Lord Fre-
derick, for the sake of his adversary's eloquence."
Miss Woodley, who heard the conclusion of this
speech with the tenderest concern, cried, " Alas !
you then think seriously of Lord Frederick 1"
"Suppose I do, wherefore that alas! Miss
Woodley ?"
" Because I fear you will never be happy with
him."
vol. xxvm. D
26 A SIMPLE STORY.
" That is plainly saying, he will not be happy
with me."
" I do not know : I cannot speak of marriage,
from experience," answered Miss Woodley ; " but I
think I can guess what it is."
" Nor can 1 speak of love from experience,"
replied Miss Milner ; " but I think I can guess what
it is."
" But do not fall in love, my dear," cried Miss
Woodley, with her accustomed simplicity of heart,
as if she had been asking a favour that depended
upon the will of the person entreated ; " pray do
not fall in love without the approbation of your
guardian."
Her young friend smiled at the inefficacious
prayer but promised to do all she could to oblige
her.
CHAPTER VII.
Sir Edward, not wholly discouraged by the denial
with which Dorriforth had, with delicacy, acquaint-
ed him, still hoped for a kind reception : and he was
so often at the house of Mrs. Horton, that Lord
Frederick's jealousy was excited ; and the tortures
he suffered in consequence convinced him, beyond
a doubt, of the sincerity of his affection. Every
time he beheld the object of his passion, (for he
still continued his visits, though not so frequently
as heretofore,) he pleaded his cause with such ar-
dour, that Miss Woodley, who was sometimes pre-
sent, and ever compassionate, could not resist wish-
ing him success. He now unequivocally offered
marriage, and entreated that he might lay his pro-
A SIMPLE STORY. 21
posals before Mr. Dorriforth; but this was positively
forbidden.
Her reluctance he imputed, however, more to the
known partiality of her guardian for the addresses
of Sir Edward, than to any motive which depended
upon herself: and to Mr. Dorriforth he conceived a
greater dislike than ever ; believing that through his
interposition, in spite of his ward's attachment, he
might yet be deprived of her. But Miss Milner
declared, both to him and to her friend, that love
had, at present, gained no influence over her mind.
Yet did the watchful Miss Woodley, oftentimes
hear a sigh escape from her unknown to herself, till
she was reminded of it ; and then a crimson blush
would instantly overspread her face. This seeming
struggle with her passion /endeared her more than
ever to Miss Woodley : and she would even risk the
displeasure of Dorriforth by her compliance with
every new pursuit that might amuse those leisure
hours which her friend, she now perceived, passed
in heaviness of heart.
Balls, plays, incessant company, at length roused
her guardian from that mildness with which he had
been accustomed to treat her. Night after night,
his sleep had been disturbed by fears for her when
abroad : morning after morning it had been broken
by the clamour of her return. He therefore gravely
said to her one forenoon as he met her accidentally
upon the staircase,
" I hope, Miss Milner, you pass this evening at
home V
Unprepared for the sudden question, she blushed
and replied, " Yes ;" though she knew she was
engaged to a brilliant assembly, for which her mil-
liner had been consulted a whole week.
She, however, flattered herself that what she had
said might be excused as a mistake, the lapse of
D2
28 A SIMPLE STORY.
memory, or some other trifling fault, when he should
know the truth. The truth was earlier divulged
than she expected for just as dinner was removed,
her footman delivered a message to her from her
milliner concerning a new dress for the evening
the present evening particularly marked. Her guar-
dian looked astonished !
" I thought, Miss Milner, you gave me your word
that you would pass this evening at home V
" I mistook for I had before given my word that
I should pass it abroad."
" Indeed ! " cried he.
" Yes, indeed ; and I believe it is right that I
should keep my first promise : is it not ?"
" The promise you gave me then, you do not
think of any consequence ?"
" Yes, certainly, if you do."
" I do."
" And mean, perhaps, to make it of more conse-
quence than it deserves, by being offended."
" Whether or not I am offended you shall find
I am." And he looked so.
She caught his piercing eyes hers were imme-
diately cast down ; and she trembled either with
shame or with resentment.
Mrs. Horton rose from her chair moved the de-
canters and fruit round the table stirred the fire
and came back to her chair again, before another
word was uttered. Nor had this good woman's
officious labours taken the least from the awkward-
ness of the silence, which, as soon as the bustle she
had contrived was over, returned in its full force.
At last, Miss Milner rising with alacrity, was
preparing to go out of the room, when Dorriforth
raised his voice, and in a tone of authority said,
" Miss Milner, you shall not leave the house this
evening."
A SIMPLE STORY. 29
" Sir !" she exclaimed with a kind of douht of
what she had heard ; a surprise, which fixed her
hand on the door she had half opened, but which
now she shewed herself irresolute whether to open
wide in defiance, or to shut submissively. Before
she could resolve, he rose from his chair, and said,
with a force and warmth she had never heard him
use before,
" I command you to stay at home this evening."
And he walked immediately out of the apartment by
another door.
Her hand fell motionless from that which she held
she appeared motionless herself till Mrs. Hor-
ton, " beseeching her not to be uneasy at the treat-
ment she had received," made her tears flow as if
her heart was breaking.
Miss Woodley would have said something to
comfort her ; but she had caught the infection, and
could not utter a word. It was not from any real
cause of grief that Miss Woodley wept ; but there
was a magnetic quality in tears, which always at-
tracted hers.
Mrs. Horton secretly enjoyed this scene, though
the well-meaning of her heart, and the ease of her
conscience, did not suffer her to think so. She,
however, declared she had " long prognosticated it
would come to this ;" and she " only thanked Heaven
it was no worse."
" What can be worse, madam? " cried Miss Mil-
ner. " Am not I disappointed of the ball ? "
" You don't mean to go then?" said Mrs. Hor-
ton. " I commend your prudence ; and I dare say
it is more than your guardian gives you credit for."
" Do you think I would go," answered Miss Mil-
ner, with an eagerness that for a time suppressed her
tears, " in contradiction to his will 1 "
" It is not the first time, I believe, you have acted
D 3
30 A SIMPLE STORY.
contrary to that, Miss Milner," replied Mrs. Hor-
ton, and affected a tenderness of voice to soften the
harshness of her words.
" If you think so, madam, I see nothing that
should prevent me now." And she went eagerly
out of the room as if she had resolved to disobey him.
This alarmed poor Miss Woodley.
" My dear aunt," she cried to Mrs. Horton, " fol-
low and prevail upon Miss Milner to give up her
design : she means to be at the ball, in opposition to
her guardian's will."
" Then," said Mrs. Horton, " I'll not be instru-
mental in deterring her. If she does go, it may be
for the best : it may give Mr. Dorri forth a clearer
knowledge, what means are proper to convert her
from evil."
" But, my dear madam, she must be preserved
from the evil of disobedience ; and as you tempted,
you will be the most likely to dissuade her. But if
you will not, I must endeavour."
Miss Woodley was leaving the room to perform
this good work, when Mrs. Horton, in imitation of
the example given her by Dorriforth, cried,
*' Niece, I command you not to stir out of this
room this evening."
Miss Woodley obediently sat down : and though
her thoughts and heart were in the chamber of her
friend, she never marked by one impertinent word,
or by one line of her face, the restraint she suffered.
At the usual hour, Mr. Dorriforth and his ward
were summoned to tea. He entered with a coun-
tenance which evinced the remains of anger : his
eye gave testimony of his absent thoughts ; and
though he took up a pamphlet affecting to read, it
was plain to discern that he scarcely knew he held it
in his hand.
Mrs. Horton began to make tea with a mind as
A SIMPLE STORY. 31
intent upon something else as Dorriforth's. She
longed for the event of this misunderstanding : and
though she wished no ill to Miss Milner, yet with an
inclination bent upon seeing something new with-
out the fatigue of going out of her own house she
was not over scrupulous what that novelty might be.
But for fear she should have the imprudence to
speak a word upon the subject which employed her
thoughts, or even to look as if she thought of it at
all, she pinched her lips close together, and cast her
eyes on vacancy, lest their significant regards might
expose her to detection. And for fear that any
noise should intercept even the sound of what might
happen, she walked across the room more softly than
usual, and more softly touched every thing she was
obliged to lay her hand on.
Miss Woodley thought it her duty to be mute ;
and now the gingle of a tea-spoon was like a deep-
toned bell, all was so quiet.
Mrs. Horton, too, in the self-approving reflection
tba.t she was not in a quarrel or altercation of any
kind, felt herself at this moment remarkably peace-
ful and charitable. Miss Woodley did not recollect
herself so, but was so in reality. In her, peace and
charity were instinctive virtues : accident could not
increase them.
The tea had scarcely been made, when a servant
came with Miss Milner's compliments, and she " did
not mean to have any tea." The pamphlet shook
in Dorriforth's hand while this message was de-
livered. He believed her to be dressing for her
evening's entertainment ; and now studied in what
manner he should prevent or resent her disobedi-
ence to his commands. He coughed drank his tea
endeavoured to talk, but found it difficult some-
times he read ; and in this manner near two hours
were passed away, when Miss Milner came into the
32 A SIMPLE STORY.
room not dressed for a ball, but as she had
risen from dinner. Dorriforth read on, and seemed
afraid of looking up, lest he should see what he
could not have pardoned. She drew a chair and sat
at the table by the side of her delighted friend.
After a few minutes' pause, and some little em-
barrassment on the part of Mrs Horton, at the
disappointment she had to encounter from this un-
expected dutiful conduct, she asked Miss Milner,
" if she would now have any tea?" She replied,
" No, I thank you, ma'am," in a voice so languid,
compared with her usual one, that Dorriforth lifted
up his eyes from the book ; and seeing her in the
same dress that she had worn all the day, turned
them hastily away from her again not with a look
of triumph, but of confusion.
Whatever he might have suffered if he had seen
Miss Milner decorated, and prepared to bid defiance
to his commands ; yet even upon that trial, he
would not have endured half the painful sensations
he now for a moment felt he felt himself to blame.
He feared that he had treated her with too much
severity he admired her condescension, accused
himself for having exacted it he longed to ask her
pardon he did not know how.
A cheerful reply from her, to a question of Miss
Woodley's, embarrassed him still more. He wished
that she had been sullen : he then would have had a
temptation, or pretence, to have heen sullen too.
With all these sentiments crowding fast upon his
heart, he still read, or seemed to read, as if he took
no notice of what was passing ; till a servant came
into the room and asked Miss Milner at what time
she should want the carriage : to which she replied,
" / don't go out to-night." Dorriforth then laid
the book out of his hand, and, by the time the ser-
vant had left the room, thus began :
A SIMPLE STORY. S3
" Miss Milner, I give you, I fear, some unkind
proofs of my regard. It is often the ungrateful task
of a friend to be troublesome sometimes unman-
nerly. Forgive the duties of my office, and believe
that no one is half so much concerned if it robs you
of any degree of happiness, as I myself am."
What he said, he looked with so much sincerity,
that had she been burning with rage at his late be-
haviour, she must have forgiven him, for the regret
which he so forcibly exprest. She was going to re-
ply, but found she could not, without accompanying
her words with tears : therefore, after the first at-
tempt, she desisted.
On this he rose from his chair, and going to her,
said, " Once more shew your submission by obeying
me a second time to-day. Keep your appointment :
and be assured that I shall issue my commands with
more circumspection for the future, as I find how
strictly they are complied with."
Miss Milner, the gay, the vain, the dissipated,
the haughty Miss Milner, sunk underneath this
kindness, and wept with a gentleness and patience,
which did not give more surprise than it gave joy to
Dorriforth. He was charmed to find her disposi-
tion so tractable prophesied to himself the future
success of his guardianship, and her eternal as well
as temporal happiness from this specimen of com-
pliance.
CHAPTER VIII.
Although Dorriforth was the good man that he
has been described, there were in his nature shades
of evil. There was an obstinacy, which himself and
hii friends termed firmness of mind ; but which, had
34 A SIMPLE STORY.
not religion and some contrary virtues weighed hea-
vily in the balance, would have frequently degene-
rated into implacable stubbornness.
The child of a sister once beloved, who married
a young officer against her brother's consent, was at
the age of three years left an orphan, destitute of
all support but from his uncle's generosity : but
though Dorriforth maintained, he would never see
him. Miss Milner, whose heart was a receptacle
for the unfortunate, no sooner was told the melan-
choly history of Mr. and Mrs. Rushbrook, the pa-
rents of the child, than she longed to behold the
innocent inheritor of her guardian's resentment, and
took Miss Wood ley with her to see the boy. He
was at a farm house a few miles from town : and his
extreme beauty and engaging manners wanted not
the sorrows to which he had been born, to give him
farther recommendation to the kindness of her who
had come to visit him. She looked at him with ad-
miration and pity, and having endeared herself to
him by the most affectionate words and caresses,
on her bidding him farewel, he cried most piteously
to go along with her. Unused at any time to resist
temptations, whether to reprehensible or to lauda-
ble actions, she yielded to his supplications ; and
having overcome a few scruples of Miss Woodley's,
determined to take young Rushbrook to town, and
present him to his uncle. This design was no sooner
formed than executed. By making a present to the
nurse, she readily gained her consent to part with
him for a day or two ; and the excess of joy denoted
by the child on being placed in the carriage, repaid
her before hand for every reproof she might receive
from her guardian, for the liberty she had taken.
" Besides," said she to Miss Woodley, who had
still her fears, " do you not wish his uncle should
have a warmer interest in his care than duty ? It is
A StMPLE STORY. 35
duty alone which induces Mr. Dorriforth to provide
for him ; but it is proper that affection should have
some share in his benevolence ; and how, when he
grows older, will he be so fit an object of the love
which compassion excites, as he is at present ? "
Miss Woodley acquiesced. But before they ar-
rived at their own door it came into Miss Milner's
remembrance, that there was a grave sternness in
the manners of her guardian when provoked ; the
recollection of which made her a little apprehensive
for what she had done. Her friend, who knew him
better than she did, was more so. They both be-
came silent as they approached the street where
they lived ; for Miss Woodley having once repre-
sented her fears, and having suppressed them in re-
signation to Miss Milner's better judgment, would
not repeat them and Miss Milner would not con-
fess that they were now troubling of her.
Just, however, $s the coach stopped at their home
she had the forecast and the humility to say, " We
will not tell Mr. Dorriforth the child is his nephew,
unless he should appear fond, and pleased with
him, and then I think we may venture without any
danger."
This was agreed ; and when Dorriforth entered
the room just before dinner, poor Harry Rushbook
was introduced as the son of a lady who frequently
visited there. The deception passed : his uncle
shookhands with him; and at length, highly pleased
with his engaging manner and applicable replies,
took him on his knee, and caressed him with affection.
Miss Milner could scarcely restrain the joy it gave
her ; but unluckily, Dorriforth said soon after to the
child, " And now tell me your name."
" Harry Rushbrook," replied he, with force and
clearness of voice.
Dorriforth was holding him fondly round the waist
36 A SIMPLE STORY.
as he stood with his feet upon his kness ; and at this
reply he did not throw him from him but he re-
moved his hands, which had supported him, so sud-
denly, that the child, to prevent falling on the floor,
threw himself about his uncle's neck. Miss Milner
and Miss Woodley turned aside to conceal their
tears. " I had like to have been down," cried
Harry, fearing no other danger. But his uncle took
hold of each hand which had twined around him,
and placed him immediately on the ground. The
dinner being that instant served, he gave no greater
marks of his resentment than calling for his hat, and
walking instantly out of the house.
Miss Milner cried for anger ; yet she did not shew
less kindness to the object of this vexatious circum-
stance : she held him in her arms while she sat at
table, and repeatedly said to him (though he had
not the sense to thank her), " That she would al-
ways be his friend."
The first emotions of resentment against Dorri-
forth being passed, she returned with her little
charge to the farm house, before it was likely his
uncle should come back ; another instance of obe-
dience, which Miss Woodley was impatient her
guardian should know. She therefore inquired where
he was gone, and sent him a note for the sole pur-
pose of acquainting him with it, offering at the same
time an apology for what had happened. He re-
turned in the evening seemingly reconciled ; nor
was a word mentioned of the incident which had
occurred in the former part of the day : still in his
countenance remained the evidence of a perfect re-
collection of it, without one trait of compassion for
his helpless nephew.
A SIMPE STORY. 37
CHAPTER IX.
There are few things so mortifying- to a proud
spirit as to suffer by immediate comparison : men
can hardly bear it, but to women the punishment is
intolerable ; and Miss Milner now laboured under
this humiliation to a degree which gave her no
small inquietude.
Miss Fenton, young, of exquisite beauty, elegant
manners, gentle disposition, and discreet conduct,
was introduced to Miss Milner's acquaintance by
her guardian, and frequently, sometimes inadvert-
ently, held up by him as a pattern for her to follow:
for when he did not say this in direct terms, it was
insinuated by the warmth of his panegyric on those
virtues in which Miss Fenton excelled, and in which
his ward was obviously deficient. Conscious of her
own inferiority in these subjects of her guardian's
praise, Miss Milner, instead of being inspired to
emulation, was provoked to envy.
Not to admire Miss Fenton was impossible to
find one fault with her person or sentiments was
equally impossible and yet to love her was un-
likely.
That serenity of mind which kept her features in
a continual placid form, though enchanting at the
first glance, upon a second or third fatigued the
sight for want of variety ; and to have seen her dis-
torted with rage, convulsed with mirth, or in deep
dejection, had been to her advantage. But her
superior soul appeared above those emotions, and
there was more inducement to worship her as a saint
than to love her as a woman. Yet Dorriforth, whose
heart was not formed (at least not educated) for
love, regarding her in the light of friendship only,
beheld her as the most perfect model for her sex.
vol. xxvm. E
44G32
.38 A, SIMPLE STORY.
Lord Frederick on first seeing her was struck with
her beauty, and Miss Milner apprehended she had
introduced a rival ; but he had not seen her three
times, before he called her " the most insufferable
of Heaven's creatures," and vowed there was more
charming variation in the plain features of Miss
Woodley.
Miss Milner had a heart affectionate to her own
sex, even where she saw them in possession of supe-
rior charms ; but whether from the spirit of contra-
diction, from feeling herself more than ordinarily
offended by her guardian's praise of this lady, or
that there was a reserve in Miss Fenton that did not
accord with her own frank and ingenuous disposi-
tion, so as to engage her esteem, certain it is that
she took infinite satisfaction in hearing her beauty
and virtues depreciated or turned into ridicule, par-
ticularly if Mr. Dorriforth was present. This was
painful to him on many accounts ; perhaps an anxiety
for his ward's conduct was not among the least ; and
whenever the circumstance occurred, he could with
difficulty restrain his anger. Miss Fenton was not
only a person whose amiable qualities he admired ;
but she was soon to be allied to him by her marriage
with his nearest relation, Lord Elmwood a young
nobleman whom he sincerely loved.
Lord Elmwood had discovered all that beauty in
Miss Fenton which every common observer could
not but see. The charms of her mind and of her
fortune had been pointed out by his tutor ; and the
utility of the marriage, in perfect submission to his
precepts, he never permitted himself to question.
This preceptor held with a magisterial power the
government of his pupil's passions ; nay, governed
them so entirely, that no one could perceive (nor
did the young lord himself know) that he had any.
This rigid monitor and friend was a Mr. Sand ford.
A SIMPLE STORY. 39
bred a Jesuit in the same college at which Dorri-
tbrth had since been educated; but previous to his
education the order had been compelled to take
another name. Sandford had been the tutor of
Dorriforth as well as of his cousin, Lord Elmwood,
and by this double tie he seemed now entailed upon
the family. As a Jesuit, he was consequently a man
of learning ; possessed of steadiness to accomplish
the end of any design once meditated, and of saga-
city to direct the views of men more powerful, but
less ingenious, than himself. The young earl, ac-
customed in his infancy to fear him as his master,
in his youthful manhood received every new indul-
gence with gratitude, and at length loved him as a
father : nor had Dorriforth as yet shaken off simi-
lar sensations.
Mr. Sandford perfectly knew how to influence the
sentiments and sensations of all human kind, but
yet he had the forbearance not to " draw all hearts
towards him." There were some, whose hatred he
thought not unworthy of his pious labours to ex-
cite ; and in that pursuit he was more rapid in his
success than even in procuring esteem. It was an
enterprise in which he succeeded with Miss Milner
even beyond his most sanguine wish.
She had been educated at an English boarding-
school, and had no idea of the superior and subor-
dinate state of characters in a foreign seminary:
besides, as a woman, she was privileged to say any
thing she pleased ; and as a beautiful woman, she
had a right to expect that whatever she pleased to
say should be admired.
Sandford knew the hearts of women, as well as
those of men, though he had passed but little of his
time in their society. He saw Miss Milner's heart
at the first sight of her person ; and beholding in
that small circumference a weight of folly that he
K2
40 A SIMPLE STORY.
wished to eradicate, he began to toil in the vineyard,
eagerly courting her detestation of him, in the hope
he could also make her abominate herself. In the
mortifications of slight he was expert ; and being a
man of talents, whom all companies, especially those
of her friends, respected, he did not begin by wast-
ing that reverence he so highly valued upon ineffec-
tual remonstrances, of which he could foresee the
reception, but wakened her attention by his neglect
of her. He spoke of her in her presence as of an
indifferent person ; sometimes forgetting even to
name her when the subject required it ; then would
ask her pardon, and say that he " really did not
recollect her," with such seeming sorrow for his
fault, that she could not suppose the offence intend-
ed, and of course felt the affront more acutely.
While, with every other person she was the prin-
ciple, the cause, upon whom a whole party depended
for conversation, cards, music, or dancing, with Mr.
Sandford she found that she was of no importance.
Sometimes she tried to consider this disregard of
her as merely the effect of ill-breeding ; but he was
not an ill-bred man : he was a gentleman by birth,
and one who had kept the best company a man of
sense and learning. " And such a man slights me
without knowing it," she said ; for she had not
dived so deeply into the powers of simulation, as to
suspect that such careless manners were the result
of art.
This behaviour of Mr. Sandford had its desired
effect : it humbled her in her own opinion more
than a thousand sermons would have done, preached
on the vanity of youth and beauty. She felt an in-
ward shame at the insignificance of these qualities
that she never knew before ; and would have been
cured of all her pride, had she not possessed a de-
gree of spirit beyond the generality of her sex ;
A SIMPLE STORY. 41
such a degree as even Mr. Sandford, with all his
penetration, did not expect to rind. She determined
to resent his treatment ; and, entering the lists as
his declared enemy, give to the world a reason why
he did not acknowledge her sovereignty, as well as
the rest of her devoted subjects.
She now commenced hostilities against all his
arguments, his learning, and his favourite axioms ;
and by a happy talent of ridicule, in want of other
weapons for this warfare, she threw in the way of
the holy father as great trials of his patience as any
that his order could have substituted in penance.
Many things he bore like a martyr at others, his
fortitude would forsake him, and he would call on
her guardian, his former pupil, to interpose with his
authority : she would then declare that she only had
acted thus " to try the good man's temper, and that
if he had combated with his fretfulness a few mo-
ments longer, she would have acknowledged his
claim to canonization ; but that, having yielded to
the sallies of his anger, he must now go through
numerous other probations."
If Miss Fenton was admired by Dorriforth, by
Sandford she was adored ; and, instead of placing
her as an example to Miss Milner, he spoke of her
as of one endowed beyond Miss Milner's power of
imitation. Often, with a shake of his head and a
sigh, would he say,
" No : I am not so hard upon you as your guar-
dian : I only desire you to love Miss Fenton ; to re-
semble her, I believe, is above your ability."
This was too much to bear composedly and poor
Miss Woodley, who was generally a witness of these
controversies, felt a degree of sorrow at every sen-
tence which, like the foregoing, chagrined and dis-
tressed her friend. Yet as she suffered too for Mr.
Sandford, the jov of her friend's reply wns mostly
K :j
42 A SIMPLE STORY.
abated by the uneasiness it gave to him. But Mrs.
Horton felt for none but the right reverend priest ;
and often did she feel so violently interested in his
cause, that she could not refrain giving an answer
herself in his behalf thus doing the duty of an ad-
versary with all the zeal of an advocate.
CHAPTER X.
Mr. Sandford finding his friend Dorriforth frequent-
ly perplexed in the management of his ward, and
he himself thinking her incorrigible, gave his coun-
sel, that a suitable match should be immediately
sought out for her, and the care of so dangerous a
person given into other hands. Dorriforth acknow-
ledged the propriety of this advice, but lamented
the difficulty of pleasing his ward as to the quality
of her lover ; for she had refused, besides Sir Ed-
ward Ashton, many others of equal pretensions.
" Depend upon it then," cried Sandford, " that her
affections are engaged ; and it is proper that you
should know to whom." Dorriforth thought he did
know, and mentioned Lord Frederick ; but said that
he had no farther authority for the supposition than
what his observation had given him, for that every
explanation both upon his and her side had been
evaded. " Take her then," cried Sandford, " into
the country ; and if Lord Frederick should not fol-
low, there is an end of your suspicions." " I shall
not easily prevail upon Miss Milner to leave town,"
replied he, " while it is in the highest fashion."
" You can but try," returned Sandford; " and if
you should not succeed now, at least fix the time
you mean to go during the autumn, and be firm to
your determination." " But in the autumn," replied
A SIMPLE STORY. 43
Dorriforth, " Lord Frederick will of course be in
the country ; and as his uncle's estate is near our
residence, he will not then so evidently follow her,
as he would if I could induce her to go immedi-
ately."
It was agreed the attempt should be made. In-
stead of receiving this abrupt proposal with uneasi-
ness, Miss Milner, to the surprise of all present,
immediately consented, and gave her guardian an
opportunity of saying several of the kindest and
politest things upon her ready compliance.
" A token of approbation from you, Mr. Dorri-
forth," returned she, " I always considered with
high estimation : but your commendations are now
become infinitely superior in value by their scarcity ;
for I do not believe that since Miss Fenton and Mr.
Sandford came to town, I have received one testi-
mony of your esteem."
Had these words been tittered with pleasantry,
they might have passed without observation ; but at
the conclusion of the period, resentment flew to Miss
Milner's face, and she darted a piercing look at Mr.
Sandford, which more pointedly expressed that she
was angry with him, than if she had spoken volumes
in her usual strain of raillery. Dorriforth was con-
fused ; but the concern which she had so plainly
evinced for his good opinion throughout all that she
had been saying, silenced any rebuke he might else
have given her, for this unwarrantable charge against
his friend. Mrs. Horton was shocked at the irreve-
rent manner in which Mr. Sandford was treated:
and Miss Woodley turned to him with a benevolent
smile upon her face, hoping to set him an example
of the manner in which he should receive the re-
proach. Her good wishes did not succeed ; yet he
was perfectly unruffled, and replied with coolness,
44 A SIMPLE STORY.
" The air of the country has affected the lady
already : hut it is a comfortable thing-," continued
he, " that in the variety of humours to which some
women are exposed, they cannot be uniform even in
deceit."
" Deceit!" cried Miss Milner: " In what am 1
deceitful ? Did I ever pretend that I had an esteem
for you ? "
" That would not have been deceit, madam, but
merely good manners."
" I never, Mr. Sand ford, sacrificed truth to po-
liteness."
" Except when the country has been proposed,
and you thought it politeness to appear satisfied."
" And I was satisfied, till I recollected that you
might probably be of the party. Then every grove
was changed into a wilderness, every rivulet into a
stagnated pool, and every singing bird into a croak-
ing raven."
" A very poetical description ! " returned he calm-
ly. " But, Miss Milner, you need not have had any
apprehensions of my company in the country ; for I
understand the seat to which your guardian means
to go, belongs to you ; and you may depend upon
it, madam, that I will never enter a house in which
you are the mistress/'
" Nor any house, I am certain, Mr. Sandford,
but in which you are yourself the master."
" What do you mean, madam ? (and for the first
time he elevated his voice) : am I the master here V
" Your servants," replied she, looking at the com-
pany, " will not tell you so ; but I do."
" You condescend, Mr. Sandford," cried Mrs.
Horton, " in talking so much to a young heedless
woman ; but I know you do it for her good."
" Well, Miss Milner," cried Dorriforth, (and the
A SIMPLE STORY. 45
most cutting thing he could say), " since I find my
proposal of the country has put you out of humour,
1 shall mention it no more."
With all that quantity of resentment, anger, or
rage, which sometimes boiled in the veins of Miss
Milner, she was yet never wanting in that respect
towards her guardian which withheld her from ever
uttering one angry sentence directed immediately
to him ; and a severe word of his, instead of exas-
perating, was sure to subdue her. This was the case
at present: his words wounded her to the heart, but
she had not the asperity to reply to them as she
thought they merited, and she burst into tears.
Dorriforth, instead of being concerned, as he usually
was at seeing her uneasy, appeared on the present
occasion provoked. He thought her weeping was a
new reproach to his friend Mr. Sandford, and that
to suffer himself to be moved by it would be a tacit
condemnation of his friend's conduct. She under-
stood his thoughts, and getting the better of her
tears, apologized for her weakness ; adding,
" She could never bear with indifference an un-
just accusation."
" To prove that mine was unjust, madam," re-
plied Dorriforth, " be prepared to quit London,
without any marks of regret, within a few days."
She bowed assent ; the- necessary preparations
were agreed upon; and while with apparent satisfac-
tion she adjusted the plan of her journey (like those
who behave well, not so much to please themselves
as to vex their enemies), she secretly triumphed in
the mortification she hoped that Mr. Sandford would
receive from her obedient behaviour.
The news of this intended journey was of course
soon made public. There is a secret charm in be-
ing pitied, when the misfortune is but ideal ; and
Miss Milner found infinite gratification in being told,
46 A SIMPLE STORY.
" that hers was a cruel case, and that it was un-
just and barbarous to force so much beauty into
concealment while London was rilled with her ad-
mirers, who, like her, would languish in conse-
quence of her solitude." These things, and a
thousand such, a thousand times repeated, she still
listened to with pleasure ; yet preserved the con-
stancy, not to shrink from her resolution of submit-
ting.
Those involuntary sighs, however, that Miss
Woodley had long ago observed, became still more
frequent ; and a tear half starting in her eye was
an additional subject of her friend's observation.
Yet though Miss Milner at those times was softened
into melancholy, she by no means appeared unhappy.
Her friend was acquainted with love only by name ;
yet she was confirmed from these increased symp-
toms, in what she before only suspected, that love
must be the foundation of her care. " Her senses
have been captivated by the person and accomplish-
ments of Lord Frederick," said Miss Woodley to
herself; " but her understanding compels her to see
his faults, and reproaches her passion. And, oh !"
cried she, " could her guardian and Mr. Sandford
but know of this conflict, how much would they
have to admire ; how little to condemn !"
With such friendly thoughts, and with the purest
intentions, Miss Woodley did not fail to give both
gentlemen reason to believe a contention of this
nature was the actual state of Miss Milner's mind.
Dorriforth was affected at the description, and
Sandford urged more than ever the necessity of
leaving town. In a few days they departed : Mrs.
Horton, Miss W r oodley, Miss Milner, and Mr. Dor-
riforth, accompanied by Miss Fenton, whom Miss
Milner, knowing it to be the wish of her guardian,
invited, for three months before her marriage, to her
A SIMPLE STORY. 47
country seat. Elmwood House, or rather Castle, the
seat of Lord Ehnwood, was only a few miles distant
from this residence, and he was expected to pass
great part of the summer there, with his tutor, Mr.
Sandford.
In the neighbourhood was also (as it has been
already said) an estate belonging to an uncle of
Lord Frederick's ; and most of the party suspected
they should soon see him on a visit there. To that
expectation they in great measure attributed Miss
Milner's visihle content.
CHAPTER XL
With this party Miss Milner arrived at her country
house ; and for near six weeks, all around was the
picture of tranquillity. Her satisfaction was as
evident as every other person's ; and all severe ad-
monition being at this time unnecessary, either to
exhort her to her duty or to warn her against her
folly, she was even in perfect good humour with
Miss Fenton, and added friendship to hospitality.
Mr. Sandford, who came with Lord Elmwood to
the neighbouring seat, about a week after the ar-
rival of Miss Milner at hers, was so scrupulously
exact in the observance of his word, " never to enter
a house of Miss Milner's," that he would not even
call upon his friend Dorriforth there : but in their
walks, and at Lord Elmwood's, the two parties, re-
siding at the two houses, would occasionally join,
and of course Sandford and she at those times met ;
yet so distant was the reserve on either side, that
not a single word upon any occasion was ever ex-
changed between them.
Miss Milner did not like Mr. Sandford ; yet, as
48 A SIMPLE STORY.
there was no cause of inveterate rancour, admiring
him, too, as a man who meant well, and her being
besides of a most forgiving temper, she frequently
felt concerned that he did not speak to her, although
it had been to find fault as usual: and one morning,
as they were all, after a long ramble, drawing to-
wards her house, where Lord Elmwood was invited
to dine, she could not refrain from dropping a tear
at seeing Sandford turn back and wish them a
" Good day."
But though she had the generosity to forgive an
affront, she had not the humility to make a conces-
sion : and she foresaw that nothing less than some
very humble atonement on her part would prevail
upon the haughty priest to be reconciled. Dorri-
forth saw her concern upon this last trifling occasion
with a secret pleasure, and an admiration that she
had never before excited. She once insinuated to
him to be a mediator between them ; but before any
accommodation could take place, the peace and
composure of their abode were disturbed by the
arrival of Sir Edward Ashton at Lord Elmwood's,
where it appeared as if he had been invited in order
to pursue his matrimonial plan.
At a dinner given by Lord Elmwood, Sir Edward
was announced as an unexpected visitor. Miss Mil-
ner did not suppose him such ; and she turned pale
when his name was uttered. Dorriforth fixed his
eyes upon her with some tokens of compassion,
while Sandford seemed to exult; and, by his repeated
" welcomes" to the baronet, gave proofs how much
he was rejoiced to see him. All the declining en-
mity of Miss Milner was renewed at this behaviour;
and suspecting Sandford as the instigator of the
visit, she could not overcome her displeasure, but
gave way to it in a manner which she thought the
most mortifying. Sir Edward, in the course of
A SIMPLE STORY. 49
conversation, inquired " What neighbours were in
the country ;" and she, with an appearance of high
satisfaction named Lord Frederick Lawnley as being
hourly expected at his uncle's. The colour spread
over Sir Edward's face Dorriforth was confounded
and Mr. Sandford looked enraged.
" Did Lord Frederick tell you he should be down?"
Sandford asked of Dorrifoath.
To which he replied, " No."
" But I hope, Mr. Sandford, you will permit me
to know V said Miss Milner. For as she now
meant to torment him by what she said, she no
longer constrained herself to silence ; and as he
harboured the same kind intention towards her, he
had no longer any objection to make a reply, and
therefore answered,
" No, madam, if it depended upon my permission
you should not know."
" Not any thing, Sir, I dare say. You would
keep me in utter ignorance."
" I would."
" From a self-interested motive, Mr. Sandford
that 1 might have a greater respect for you."
Some of the company laughed Mrs. Horton
coughed Miss Woodley blushed Lord Elmwood
sneered Dorriforth frowned and Miss Fenton
looked just as she did before.
The conversation was changed as soon as possible;
and early in the evening the party from Milner Lodge
returned home.
Miss Milner had scarcely left her dressing-room,
where she had been taking off some part of her
dress, when Dorriforth's servant came to acquaint
her that his master was alone in his study, and beg-
ged to speak with her. She felt herself tremble :
she immediately experienced a consciousness that
she had not acted properly at Lord Elniwood's ; for
vol. xxviu. F
50 A SIMPLE STORY.
she felt a presentiment that her guardian was going
to upbraid her, and her heart whispered that he had
never yet reproached her without a cause.
Miss Woodleyjust then entered her apartment,
and she found herself so much a coward, as to pro-
pose that she should go with her, and aid her with
a word or two occasionally in her excuse.
" What ! you, my dear," returned Miss Woodley,
" who not three hours ago had the courage to vin-
dicate your own cause before a whole company, of
whom many were your adversaries ; do you want an
advocate before your guardian alone, who has ever
treated you with tenderness ! "
" It is that very tenderness which frightens me :
which intimidates, and strikes me dumb. Is it pos-
sible I can return impertinence to the language and
manners which Mr. Dorriforth uses 1 And as I am
debarred from that resource, what can I do but
stand before him like a guilty creature, acknowledg-
ing my faults ? "
She again entreated her friend to go with her :
but on a positive refusal, from the impropriety of
such an intrusion, she was obliged at length to go
by herself.
How much does the difference of exterior cir-
cumstances influence not only the manners, but
even the persons of some people ! Miss Milner in
Lord Elmwood's drawing-room, surrounded by lis-
teners, by admirers, (for even her enemies could
not look at her without admiration), animated with
approbation and applause and Miss Milner, with
no giddy observer to give her actions a false eclat
destitute of all but her own understanding, (which
secretly condemns her) upon the point of receiving
censure from her guardian and friend, are two dif-
ferent beings. Though still beautiful beyond de-
scription, she does not look even in person the same.
A SIMPLE STORY. 51
In the last mentioned situation, she was shorter
in stature than in the former she was paler she
was thinner and a very different contour presided
over her whole air, and all her features.
When she arrived at the door of the study, she
opened it with a trepidation she could hardly ac-
count for, and entered to Dorriforth the altered
woman she has been represented. His heart had
taken the most decided part against her, and his
face had assumed the most severe aspect of reproach;
but her appearance gave an instantaneous change to
his whole mind and countenance.
She halted, as if she feared to approach he
hesitated, as if he knew not how to speak. Instead
of the anger with which he was prepared to begin,
his voice involuntarily softened, and without know-
ing what he said, he began,
" My dear Miss Milner "
She expected he was angry, and in her confusion
his gentleness was lost upon her. She imagined
that what he said might be censure, and she con-
tinued to tremble, though he repeatedly assured her,
that he meant only to advise, not to upbraid her.
" For as to all those little disputes between Mr.
Sandford and you," said he, " I should be partial if
I blamed you more than [him. Indeed, when you
take the liberty to condemn him, his character makes
the freedom appear in a more serious light than
when he complains of you ; and yet, if he provokes
your retorts, he alone must answer for them : nor
will I undertake to decide betwixt you. But I
have a question to ask you, and to which I require a
serious and unequivocal answer : Do you expect
Lord Frederick in the country V
Without hesitation she replied, " I do."
" One more question I have to ask, madam, and
to which I expect a reply equally unreserved : Is
F-2
52 A SIMPLE STORY.
Lord Frederick the man you approve for your hus-
band r
Upon this close interrogation she discovered an
embarrassment, beyond any she had ever yet be-
trayed, and faintly replied,
" No, he is not."
" Your words tell me one thing," answered Dor-
riforth, " but. your looks declare another : which
am I to believe V
" Which you please," was her answer, while she
discovered an insulted dignity, that astonished,
without convincing him.
" But then why encourage him to follow you
hither, Miss Milner ?"
" Why commit a thousand follies," she replied in
tears, " every hour of my life V
"You then promote the hopes of Lord Frederick
without one serious intention of completing them !
This is a conduct against which it is my duty to
guard you, and you shall no longer deceive either
him or yourself. The moment he arrives, it is my
resolution that you refuse to see him, or consent to
become his wife."
In answer to the alternative thus offered, she ap-
peared averse to both propositions ; and yet came
to no explanation why ; but left her guardian at the
end of the conference as much at a loss to decide
upon her true sentiments, as he was before he had
thus seriously requested he might be informed of
them ; but having stedfastly taken the resolution
which he had just communicated, he found that re-
solution a certain relief to his mind.
A SIMPLE STORY. 53
CHAPTER XII.
Sir Edward Ashton, though not invited by Miss
Milner, yet frequently did himself the honour to
visit her at her house ; sometimes he accompanied
Lord Elmwood, at other times he came to see Dor-
riforth alone, who generally introduced him to the
ladies. But Sir Edward was either so unwilling to
give pain to the object of his love, or so intimidated
by her frowns, that he seldom addressed her with a
single word, except the usual compliments at enter-
ing, and retiring. This apprehension of offending,
without one hope of pleasing, had the most awkward
effect upon the manners of the worthy baronet ; and
his endeavours to insinuate himself into the affections
of the woman he loved, merely by not giving her
offence either in speaking to her or looking at her,
formed a character so whimsical, that it frequently
forced a smile from Miss Milner, though his very
name had often power to throw a gloom over her
face : she looked upon him as the cause of her being
hurried to the election of a lover, before her own
mind could well direct her where to fix. Besides,
his pursuit was troublesome, while it was no triumph
to her vanity, which, by the addresses of Lord Fre-
derick, was in the highest manner gratified.
His lordship now arrives in the country, and
calls one morning at Miss Milner's : her guardian
sees his carriage coming up the avenue, and gives
orders to the servants, to say their lady is not at
home, but that Mr. Dorriforth is : Lord Frederick
leaves his compliments and goes away.
The ladies all observed his carriage and servants.
Miss Milner flew to her glass, adjusted her dress ;
and in her looks expressed every sign of palpitation
f 3
54 A SIMPLE STORY.
but in vain she keeps her eye fixed upon the door
of the apartment : no Lord Frederick appears.
After some minutes of expectation, the door
opens, and her guardian comes in. She was disap-
pointed : he perceived that she was, and he looked
at her with a most serious face. She immediately
called to mind the assurance he had given her,
" that her acquaintance with Lord Frederick in its
then improper state should not continue ;" and be-
tween chagrin and confusion, she was at a loss how
to hehave.
Though the ladies were all present, Dorriforth
said, without the smallest reserve, " Perhaps, Miss
Milner, you may think I have taken an unwarrant-
able liberty, in giving orders to your servants to
deny you to Lord Frederick : but until his lordship
and I have had a private conference, or you conde-
scend to declare your sentiments more fully in re-
gard to his visits, I think it my duty to put an end
to them."
" You will always perform your duty, Mr. Dor-
riforth, I have no doubt, whether I concur or not."
" Yet believe me, madam, I should perform it
more cheerfully, if I could hope that it was sanction-
ed by your inclinations."
" I am not mistress of my inclinations, sir, or
they should conform to yours."
" Place them under my direction, and I will an-
swer for it they will."
A servant came in " Lord Frederick is returned,
sir, and says he should be glad to see you." " Shew
him into the study," cried Dorriforth hastily, and,
rising from his chair, left the room.
" I hope they won't quarrel," said Mrs. Horton,
meaning that she thought they would.
" I am sorry to see you so uneasy, Miss Milner,"
said Miss Fenton, with perfect unconcern.
A SIMPLE STORY. 55
As the badness of the weather had prevented
their usual morning's exercise, the ladies were em-
ployed at their needles till the dinner bell called
them away. " Do you think Lord Frederick is
gone?" then whispered Miss Milner to Miss Wood-
ley." I think not," she replied. " Go ask of the
servants, dear creature ;" and Miss Woodley went
out of the room. She soon returned, and said, apart,
" He is now getting into his chariot : I saw him pass
in violent haste through the hall : he seemed to fly."
" Ladies, the dinner is waiting," cried Mrs. Hor-
ton ; and they repaired to the dining-room, where
Dorriforth soon after came, and engrossed their
whole attention by his disturbed looks, and unusual
silence. Before dinner was over, he was, however,
more himself; but still he appeared thoughtful and
dissatisfied. At the time of their evening walk, he
excused himself from accompanying them, and they
saw him in a distant field with Mr. Sandford in
earnest conversation ; for Sandford and he stopped
on one spot for a quarter of an hour, as if the interest
of the subject had so engaged them, they stood still
without knowing it. Lord Elmwood, who had
joined the ladies, walked home with them. Dorri-
forth entered soon after, in a much less gloomy
humour than when he went out, and told his rela-
tion, that he and the ladies would dine with him the
next day, if he was disengaged ; and it was agreed
they should.
Still Dorriforth was in some perturbation, but the
immediate cause was concealed till the day follow-
ing, when, about an hour before the company's
departure from Elmwood Castle, Miss Milner and
Miss Woodley were desired, by a servant, to walk
into a separate apartment, in which they found Mr.
Dorriforth, with Mr. Sandford, waiting for them.
Her guardian made an apology to Miss Milner for
56 A SIMPLE STORY.
the form, the ceremony, of which he was going to
make use ; but he trusted the extreme weight which
oppressed his mind, lest he should mistake the real
sentiments of a person whose happiness depended
upon his correct knowledge of them, would plead
his excuse.
" I know, Miss Milner," continued he, " the world
in general allows to unmarried women great latitude
in disguising their minds with respect to the man
they love. I, too, am willing to pardon any little
dissimulation that is but consistent with a modesty
that becomes every woman upon the subject of
marriage. But here, to what point I may limit, or
you may extend, this kind of venial deceit may so
widely differ that it is not impossible for me to re-
main unacquainted with your sentiments, even after
you have revealed them to me. Under this con-
sideration, I wish once more to hear your thoughts
in regard to matrimony, and to hear them before
one of your own sex, that I may form an opinion by
her constructions."
To all this serious oration, Miss Milner made no
other reply than by turning to Mr. Sandford, and
asking, " if he was the person of her own sex to
whosejudgment her guardian was to submit his own?"
" Madam," cried Sandford, angrily, " you are
come hither upon serious business."
" Any business must be serious to me, Mr. Sand-
ford, in which you are concerned ; and if you had
called it sorrowjul, the epithet would have suited
as well."
" Miss Milner," said her guardian, " I did not
bring you here to contend with Mr. Sandford."
" Then why, sir, bring him hither? for where he
and I are there must be contention."
" I brought him hither, madam, or I should
rather say, brought you to this house, merely that
A SIMPLE STORY. 57
he wight be present on this occasion, and with his
discernment relieve me from a suspicion that my
own judgment is neither able to suppress nor to
confirm."
" Are there any more witnesses you may wish to
call in, sir, to remove your douhts of my veracity ?
If there are, pray send for them before you begin
your interrogations."
He shook his head. She continued,
" The whole world is welcome to hear what I
say, and every different person is welcome to judge
me differently."
" Dear Miss Milner!" cried Miss Woodley, with a
tone of reproach for the vehemence with which she
had spoken.
" Perhaps, Miss Milner," said Dorriforth, " you
will not now reply to those questions I was going to
put?"
" Did I ever refuse, sir," returned she, with a
self-approving air, " to comply with any request
that you have seriously made ? Have I ever refused
obedience to your commands whenever you thought
proper to lay them upon me I If not, you have no
right to suppose that I will do so now."
He was going to reply, when Mr. Sandford sul-
lenly interrupted him, and walking towards the
door, cried, " When you come to the point for
which you brought me here, send for me again."
" Stay now," said Dorriforth. " And Miss Mil-
ner," continued he, ," I not only entreat, but con-
jure you to tell me have you given your word or
your affections to Lord Frederick Lawnley?"
The colour spread over her face, and she replied,
" I thought confessions were always to be made in
secret : however, as I am not a member of your
church, I submit to the persecution of a heretic,
and I answer Lord Frederick has neither my word
nor any share in my affections."
58 A SIMPLE STORY.
Sandford, Dorriforth, and Miss Woodley looked
at each other with a degree of surprise that for
some time kept them silent. At length Dorriforth
said, " And it is your firm intention never to become
his wife?"
To which she answered, " At present it is."
" At present ! Do you suspect you shall change
your mind?"
" Women sometimes do."
" But before that change can take place, your
acquaintance will be at an end ; for it is that which
I shall next insist upon, and to which you can have
no objection."
She replied, " I had rather it should continue."
" On what account?" cried Dorriforth.
" Because it entertains me."
" For shame, for shame !" returned he : " it en-
dangers your character and your happiness. Yet
again, do not suffer me to interfere, if the breaking
with my Lord Frederick can militate against your
felicity."
" By no means,'' she answered : " Lord Frederick
makes part of my amusement, but can never consti-
tute my felicity."
" Miss Woodley," said Dorriforth, " do you com-
prehend your friend in the same literal and un-
equivocal sense that I do?"
" Certainly 1 do, sir."
" And pray, Miss Woodley," said he, " were
those the sentiments which you have always enter-
tained ?"
Miss Woodley hesitated. He continued " Or
has this conversation altered them?"
She hesitated again, then answered, " This con-
versation has altered them."
" And yet you confide in it!" cried Sandford,
looking at her with contempt.
" Certainly I do," replied Miss Woodley.
A SIMPLE STORY. 59
" Do not you, then, Mr. Sandford?" asked Dor-
riforth.
" I would advise you to act as if I did," replied
Sand ford.
" Then, Miss Milner," said Dorriforth, " you see
Lord Frederick no more : and I hope I have your
permission to apprize him of this arrangement."
" You have, sir," she replied with a completely
unembarrassed countenance and voice.
Her friend looked at her as if to discover some
lurking wish, adverse to all these protestations, but
she could not discern one. Sandford, too, fixed his
penetrating eyes upon her, as if he would look
through her soul; but finding it perfectly composed,
he cried out
" Why, then, not write his dismission herself, and
save you, Mr. Dorriforth, the trouble of any farther
contest with him?"
" Indeed, Miss Milner," said Dorriforth, " that
would oblige me ; for it is with great reluctance that
I meet him upon this subject : he was extremely
impatient and importunate when he was last with
me: he took advantage of my ecclesiastical situation
to treat me with a levity and ill breeding, that I
could ill have suffered upon any other consideration
than a compliance with my duty."
" Dictate what you please, Mr. Dorriforth, and I
will write it," said she, with a warmth like the most
unaffected inclination. " And while you, sir," she
continued, " are so indulgent as not to distress me
with the importunities of any gentleman to whom
I am averse, I think myself equally bound, to rid
you of the impertinence of every one to whom you
may have objection."
" But," answered he, " rest assured I have no
material, objection to my Lord Frederick, except
from that dilemma, in which your acquaintance with
00 A SIMPLE STORY.
him has involved us all ; and I should conceive the
same against any other man, where the same cir-
cumstance occurred. As you have now, however,
freely and politely consented to the manner in
which it has been proposed that you shall break
with him, I will not trouble you a moment longer
upon a subject on which I have so frequently ex-
plained my wishes, but conclude it by assuring you,
that your ready acquiescence has given me the
sincerest satisfaction."
" I hope, Mr. Sandford," said she, turning to him
with a smile, " I have given you satisfaction likewise?"
Sandford could not say yes, and was ashamed to
say no : he, therefore, made answer only by his looks,
which were full of suspicion. She, notwithstanding,
made him a very low courtesy. Her guardian then
handed her out of the apartment into her coach,
which was waiting to take her, Miss Woodley, and
himself home.
CHAPTER XIII.
Notwithstanding the seeming readiness with
which Miss Milner had resigned all farther acquaint-
ance with Lord Frederick, during the short ride
home she appeared to have lost great part of her
wonted spirits : she was thoughtful, and once sighed
heavily. Dorriforth began to fear that she had not
only made a sacrifice of her affections, but of her
veracity ; yet, why she had done so, he could not
comprehend.
As the carriage moved slowly through a lane
between Elmwood Castle and her own house, on
casting her eyes out of the window, Miss Milner's
countenance was brightened in an instant; and that
A SIMPLE STORY. 61
instant Lord Frederick, on horseback, was at the
coach door, and the coachman stopped.
" Oh, Miss Miiner," cried he (with a voice and
manner that could give little suspicion of the truth
ofwhathesaid), " I am overjoyed at the happiness
of seeing you, even though it is but an accidental
meeting."
She was evidently glad to see him: but the
earnestness with which he spoke seemed to put her
upon her guard not to express the like satisfaction ;
and she said, in a cool constrained manner, she
'"was glad to see his lordship."
The reserve with which she spoke gave Lord
Frederick immediate suspicion who was in the coach
with her, and turning his head quickly, he met the
stern eye of Dorriforth ; upon which, without the
smallest salutation, he turned from him again
abruptly and rudely. Miss Miiner was confused,
and Miss Woodley in torture, at this palpable af-
front, to which Dorriforth alone appeared indifferent.
" Go on," said Miss Miiner to the footman, " de-
sire the coachman to drive on."
" No," cried Lord Frederick, " not till you have
told me when I shall see you again."
" I will write you word, my lord," replied she,
something alarmed. " You shall have a letter im-
mediately after I get home."
As if he guessed what its contents were to be,
he cried out with warmth, " Take care, then,
madam, how you treat me in that letter. And you,
Mr. Dorriforth," turning to him, " do you take
care what it contains ; for if it be dictated by you,
to you I shall send the answer."
Dorriforth, without making any reply, or casting
a look at him, put his head out of the window on
the opposite side, and called, in a very angry tone,
VOL. XXVIII. G
62 A SIMPLE STORY.
to the coachman, " How dare you not drive on,
when your lady orders you ?"
The sound of Dorriforth's voice in anger was to
the servants so unusual that it acted like electricity
upon the man ; and he drove away at the instant
with such rapidity that Lord Frederick was in a
moment many yards behind. As soon, however, as
he recovered from the surprise into which this sud-
den command had thrown him, he rode with speed
after the carriage, and followed it, till it arrived at
the door of Miss Milner's house ; there, giving
himself up to the rage of love, or to rage against
Dorriforth for the contempt he had shewn to him
he leaped from his horse when Miss Milner stepped
from her carriage, and seizing her hand, entreated
her " not to desert him, in compliance with the in-
junctions of monkish hypocrisy."
Dorriforth heard this, standing silently by, with
a manly scorn upon his countenance.
Miss Milner struggled to loose her hand, saying,
" Excuse me from replying to you now, my lord."
In return, he lifted her hand eagerly to his lips,
and began to devour it with kisses; when Dorriforth,
with an instantaneous impulse, rushed forward, and
struck him a violent blow in the face. Under the
force of this assault, and the astonishment it excited,
Lord Frederick staggered, and, letting fa'l the hand
of Miss Milner, her guardian immediately laid hold
of it, and led her into the house.
She was terrified beyond description ; and with ex-
treme difficulty Mr. Dorriforth conveyed her to her
own chamber, without taking her in his arms.
When, by the assistance of her maid, he had placed
her upon a sofa, overwhelmed with shame and
confusion for what he had done, he fell upon his
knees before her, and " implored her forgiveness
A SIMPLE STORY. 63
for the indelicacy he had been guilty of in her pre-
sence." And that he had alarmed her, and had
forgotten the respect which he thought sacredly her
due, seemed the only circumstance which then
dwelt upon his thoughts.
She felt the indecorum of the posture he had
condescended to take, and was shocked. To see
her guardian at her feet, struck her with a sense of
impropriety, as if she had seen a parent there.
With agitation and emotion, she conjured him to
rise ; and, with a thousand protestations, declared,
" that she thought the rashness of the action was
the highest proof of his regard for her."
Miss Woodley now entered : her care being ever
employed upon the unfortunate, Lord Frederick had
just been the object of it: she had waited by his
side, and, with every good purpose, had preached
patience to him, while he was smarting under the
pain, but more under the shame, of his chastisement.
At first, his fury threatened a retort upon the
servants around him (and who refused his entrance
into the house) of the punishment he had received.
But, in the certainty of an amende honorable,
which must hereafter be made, he overcame the
many temptations which the moment offered ; and,
remounting his horse, rode away from the scene of
his disgrace.
No sooner had Miss Woodley entered the room,
and Dorriforth had resigned to her the care of his
ward, than he flew to the spot where he had left
Lord Frederick, negligent of what might be the
event if he still remained there. After inquiring,
and being told that he was gone, Dorriforth retired
to his own apartment with a bosom torn by more
excruciating sensations than those which he had
gj^en to his adversary.
The reflection which struck him first with re-
G 2
64 A SIMPLE STORY.
morse, as he shut the door of his chamber, was j
" I have departed from my character from the
sacred character, the dignity of my profession and
sentiments I have departed from myself. 1 am
no longer the philosopher, but the ruffian I have
treated with an unpardonable insult a young noble-
man, whose only offence was love, and a fond desire
to insinuate himself into the favour of his mistress.
I must atone for this outrage in whatever manner
he may choose; and the law of honour and of justice
(though in this one instance contrary to the law of
religion) enjoins, that if he demands my life in satis-
faction for his wounded feelings, it is his due. Alas !
that I could but have laid it down this morning, un-
sullied with a cause for which it will make inade-
quate atonement !"
His next reproach was " I have offended, and
filled with horror, a beautiful young woman, whom
it was my duty to have protected from those brutal
manners, to which I myself have exposed her."
Again " 1 have drawn upon myself the just up-
braidings of my faithful preceptor and friend ; of the
man in whose judgment it was my delight to be ap-
proved : above all, I have drawn upon myself the
stings of conscience."
" Where shall I pass this sleepless night?" cried
he, walking repeatedly across his chamber. " Can I
go to the ladies? I am unworthy of their society.
Shall I go and repose my disturbed mind on Sand-
ford ? I am ashamed to tell him the cause of my
uneasiness. Shall I go to Lord Frederick, and
humbling myself before him, beg his forgiveness ?
He would spurn me for a coward. No" and
he lifted up his eyes to Heaven, " Thou all-great,
all-wise and omnipotent Being, Thou whom I have
most offended, it is to Thee alone that I have re-
course in this hour of tribulation, and from Thee
A SIMPLE STORY. 65
alone I solicit comfort. The confidence with which
1 now address myself to Thee, encouraged by that
long intercourse which religion has effected, 1 here
acknowledge to repay me amply in this one mo-
ment, for the many years of my past life, devoted
with my best, though imperfect, efforts to thy ser-
vice."
CHAPTER XIV.
Although Miss Milner had not foreseen any fatal
event resulting from the indignity offered to Lord
Frederick, yet she passed a night very different from
those to which she had been accustomed. No sooner
was she falling into a sleep, than a thousand vague,
but distressing, ideas darted across her imagination.
Her heart would sometimes whisper to her when
she was half asleep, " Lord Frederick is banished
from you for ever." She shakes off the uneasiness
this consideration brings along with it ; she then
starts, and sees the blow still aimed at him by Dorri-
forth. No sooner has she driven away this painful
image, than she is again awakened by beholding her
guardian at her feet suing for pardon. She sighs,
she trembles, and is chilled with terror.
Relieved by tears, towards the morning she sinks
into a slumber, but waking, finds the same images
crowding all together upon her mind : she is doubt-
ful to which to give the preference. One, however,
rushes the foremost and continues so. She knows
not the fatal consequence of ruminating, nor why she
tlwells upon that, more than upon all the rest, but it
will give place to none.
She rises languid and disordered, and at breakfast
G 3
66 A SIMPLE STORY.
adds fresh pain to Dorriforth by her altered appear-
ance.
He had scarcely left the room, when an officer
waited upon him with a challenge from Lord Fre-
derick. To the message delivered by this gentle-
man, he replied,
" Sir, as a clergyman, more especially of the
Church of Rome, I know not whether I am not ex-
empt from answering a demand of this kind ; but not
having had forbearance to avoid an offence, I will not
claim an exemption, that would only indemnify me
from making reparation."
" You will then, sir, meet Lord Frederick at the
appointed hour ? " said the officer.
" 1 will, sir ; and my immediate care shall be to
find a gentleman who will accompany me."
The officer withdrew, and when Dorriforth was
again alone, he was going once more to reflect ; but
he durst not. Since yesterday, reflection, for the
first time, was become painful to him ; and even as he
rode the short way to Lord Elmwood's immediately
after, he found his own thoughts were so insufferable,
that he was obliged to enter into conversation with
his servant. Solitude, that formerly charmed him,
would, at those moments, have been worse than
death.
At Lord Elmwood's, he met Sandford in the hall ;
and the sight of him was no longer welcome : he
knew how different the principles which he had just
adopted were to those of that reverend friend, and
without Sandford's complaining, or even suspecting
what had happened, his presence was a sufficient re-
proach. He passed him as hastily as he could, and
inquiring for Lord Elmwood, disclosed to him his
errand. It was to ask him to be his second. The
young earl started, and wished to consult his tutor,
A SIMPLE STORY. 67
but that his kinsman strictly forbade ; and having
urged his reasons with arguments which at least the
earl could not refute, he was at length prevailed
upon to promise that he would accompany him to
the field, which was at the distance only of a few
miles, and the parties were to be there at seven on
the same evening.
As soon as his business with Lord Elmwood was
settled, Dorriforth returned home, to make prepara-
tions for the event which might ensue from this
meeting. He wrote letters to several of his friends,
and one to his ward ; in writing which, he could with
difficulty preserve the usual firmness of his mind.
Sandford, going into Lord Elmwood's library soon
after his relation had left him, expressed his surprise
at finding he was gone; upon which that nobleman,
having answered a few questions, and given a few
significant hints that he was entrusted with a secret,
frankly confessed what he had promised to conceal.
Sandford, as much as a holy man could be, was
enraged at Dorriforth for the cause of the challenge,
but was still more enraged at his wickedness in ac-
cepting it. He applauded his pupil's virtue in
making the discovery, and congratulated himself
that he should be the instrument of saving not only
his friend's life, but of preventing the scandal of his
being engaged in a duel.
In the ardour of his designs, he went immediately
to Miss Milner's entered that house which he had
so long refused to enter, and at a time when he was
upon aggravated bad terms with its owner.
He asked for Dorriforth, went hastily into his
apartment, and poured upon him a torrent of re-
bukes. Dorriforth bore all he said with the patience
of a devotee, but with the firmness of a man. He
owned his fault ; but no eloquence could make him
recal the promise he had given to repair the injury.
68 A SIMPLE STORY.
Unshaken by the arguments, persuasions, and me-
naces of Sandford, he gave an additional proof of
that inflexibility for which he had been long distin-
guished ; and after a dispute of two hours, they
parted, neither of them the better for what either
had advanced, but Dorriforth something the worse :
his conscience gave testimony to Sandford's opi-
nion, " that he was bound by ties more sacred
than worldly honour." But while he owned, he
would not yield to the duty.
Sandford left him, determined, however, that
Lord Elmwood should not be accessary in his
guilt, and this he declared ; upon which Dorriforth
took the resolution of seeking another second.
In passing through the house on his return home,
Sandford met, by accident, Mrs. Horton, Miss Mil-
ner, and the other two ladies, returning from a
saunter in the garden. Surprised at the sight of
Mr. Sandford in her house, Miss Milner would not
express that surprise ; but going up to him with all
the friendly benevolence which in general played
about her heart, she took hold of one of his hands,
and pressed it with a kindness which told him more
forcibly that he was welcome, than if she had made
the most elaborate speech to convince him of it.
He, however, seemed little touched with her be-
haviour ; and as an excuse for breaking his word,
cried,
" I beg your pardon, madam ; but 1 was brought
hither in my anxiety to prevent murder."
<c Murder !" exclaimed all the ladies.
" Yes," answered he, addressing himself to Miss
Fenton, " your betrothed husband is a party con-
cerned : he is going to be second to Mr. Dorriforth,
who means this very evening to be killed by my
Lord Frederick, or to kill him, in addition to the
blow that he gave him last night."
A SIMPLE STORY. 69
Mrs. Horton exclaimed, " If Mr. Dorriforth dies,
lie dies a martyr."
Miss Woodley cried with fervour, " Heaven
forbid ! "
Miss Fenton cried, " Dear me ! "
While Miss Milner, without uttering one word,
sunk speechless on the floor.
They lifted her up, and brought her to the dooi
which entered into the garden. She soon recovered;
for the tumult of her mind would not suffer her to
remain inactive, and she was roused, in spite of her
weakness, to endeavour to ward oft' the impending
disaster. In vain, however, she attempted to walk
to her guardian's apartment: she sunk as before,
and was taken to a settee, while Miss Woodley was
dispatched to bring him to her.
Informed of the cause of her indisposition, he fol-
lowed Miss Woodley with a tender anxiety for her
health, aud with grief and confusion that he had so
carelessly endangered it. On his entering the room,
Sandford beheld the inquietude of his mind, and
cried, " Here is your guardian" with a cruel em-
phasis on the word.
He was too much engaged by the sufferings of his
ward to reply to Sandford. He placed himself on the
settee by her, and with the utmost tenderness, re-
verence, and pity, entreated her not to be concerned
at an accident in which he, and he alone, had been
to blame ; but which he had no doubt would be ac-
commodated in the most amicable manner.
" I have one favour to require of you, Mr. Dor-
riforth," said she; " and that is, your promise, your
solemn promise, which I know is ever sacred, that
you will not meet my Lord Frederick."
He hesitated.
" Oh, madam," cried Sandford, " he is grown a
70 A SIMPLE STORY.
libertine now ; and I would not believe his word, i{
he were to give it you."
" Then, sir," returned Dorriforth, angrily, " you
may believe ray word, for I will keep that which I
gave to you. I will give Lord Frederick all the
restitution in my power. But, my dear Miss Mil-
ner, let not this alarm you : we may not find it con-
venient to meet this many a day ; and most probably
some fortunate explanation may prevent our meeting
at all. Knot, reckon but among the many duels
that are fought, how few are fatal : and, even in that
case, how small would be the loss to society, if "
He was proceeding.
" I should ever deplore the loss! " cried Miss Mil-
ner: " on such an occasion, I could not survive the
death of either."
" For my part," he replied, " I look upon my
life as much forfeited to my Lord Frederick, to
whom I have given a high offence, as it might in
other instances have been forfeited to the offended
laws of the land. Honour is the law of the polite
part of the land : we know it ; and when we trans-
gress against it knowingly, we justly incur our
ounishment. However, Miss Milner, this affair will
not be settled immediately ; and 1 have no doubt,
but that all will be as you could wish. Do you
think I should appear thus easy," added he, with a
smile, " if I were going to be shot at by my Lord
Frederick?"
" Very well ! " cried Sandford, with a look that
evinced he was better informed.
" You will stay within, then, all this day ? " said
Miss Milner.
" I am engaged to dinner," he replied : " it is
unlucky I am sorry for it but I'll be at home early
in the evening."
A SIMPLE STORY. 71
" Stained with human blood," tried Sandford,
" or yourself a corpse ! "
The ladies lifted up their hands. Miss Milner
rose from her seat, and threw herself at her guar-
dian's feet.
" You kneeled to me last night: I now kneel to
you," she cried ; " kneel, never desiring to rise
again, if you persist in your intention. I am weak,
I am volatile, I am indiscreet ; but I have a heart
from which some impressions can never oh ! never,
be erased."
He endeavoured to raise her : she persisted to
kneel and here the affright, the terror, the anguish
she endured, discovered to her her own sentiments
which, till that moment, she had doubted and
she continued,
" I no longer pretend to concel my passion I
love Lord Frederick Lawnley.
Her guardian started.
" Yes, to my shame, I love him," cried she, all
emotion : " I meant to have struggled with the
weakness, because I supposed it would be displeas-
ing to you ; but apprehension for his safety has
taken away every power of restraint, and I beseech
you to spare his life."
" This is exactly what I thought," cried Sand-
ford, with an air of triumph.
" Good Heaven ! " cried Miss Woodley.
" But it is very natural," said Mrs. Horton.
" I own," said Dorriforth, (struck with amaze,
and now taking her from his feet with a force that
she could not resist) " I own, Miss Milner, I am
greatly affected and wounded at this contradiction
in your character."
" But did not I say so V cried Sandford, inter-
rupting him.
" However," continued he, " you may take my
72 A SIMPLE STORY.
word, though you have deceived me in yours, that
Lord Frederick's life is secure. For your sake, I
would not endanger it for the universe. But let
this be a warning to you "
He was proceeding with the most austere looks,
and pointed language, when observing the shame,
and the self-reproach that agitated her mind, he di-
vested himself in great measure of his resentment,
and said, mildly,
" Let this be a warning to you, how you deal in
future with the friends who wish you well. You
have hurried me into a mistake that might have cost
me my life, or the life of the man you love; and thus
exposed you to misery more bitter than death."
" I am not worthy of your friendship, Mr. Dorri-
forth,"said she, sobbing with grief; " and from this
moment forsake me."
" No, madam, not in the moment you first dis-
cover to me how I can make you happy."
The conversation appearing now to become of a
nature in which the rest of the company could have
no share whatever, they were all, except Mr. Sand-
ford, retiring ; when Miss Milner called Miss Wood-
ley back, saying, " Stay you with me : I was never
so unfit to be left without your friendship."
" Perhaps at present you can dispense with
mine ? " said Dorriforth. She made no answer.
He then once more assured her Lord Frederick's
life was safe, and was quitting the room : but when
he recollected in what humiliation he had left her,
turning towards her as heopened the door, he added,
" And be assured, madam, that my esteem for
you shall be the same as ever."
Sandford, as he followed him, bowed, and re-
peated the same words " And, madam, be as-
sured that my esteem for you, shall be the same
as ever."
A SIMPLE STORY. 73
CHAPTER XV.
This taunting reproof from Sandford made little
impression upon Miss Milner, whose thoughts were
all fixed on a subject of much more importance than
the opinion which he entertained of her. She
threw her arms about her friend the moment they
were left alone, and asked with anxiety, " what
she thought of her behaviour." Miss Woodley, who
eould not approve of the duplicity she had betrayed
still wished to reconcile her as much as possible to
her own conduct, and replied, she " highly com-
mended the frankness with which she had, at last,
acknowledged her sentiments."
"Frankness!" cried Miss Milner, starting.
" Frankness, my dear Miss Woodley ! What you
have just now heard me say is all a falsehood."
" How, Miss Milner?"
" Oh, Miss Woodley," returned she, sobbing
upon her bosom, " pity the agonies of my heart, my
heart by nature sincere, when such are the fatal
propensities it cherishes, that I must submit to the
grossest falsehoods rather than reveal the truth."
"What can you mean?" cried Miss Woodley,
with the strongest amazement in her face.
" Do you suppose I love Lord Frederick? Do
you suppose I can love him ? Oh fly, and prevent
my guardian from telling him such an untruth."
" Whatcan you mean V repeated Miss Woodley ;
" I protest you terrify me." For this inconsistency
in the behaviour of Miss Milner appeared as if her
senses had been deranged.
" Fly," she resumed, " and prevent the inevitable
ill consequence which will ensue, if Lord Frederick
should be told this falsehood. It will involve us all
in greater disquiet than we suffer at present."
vol. xxvin. H
74 A SIMPLE STORY.
" Then what has influenced you, my dear Miss
Milner?"
"That which impels all my actions an unsur-
mountable instinct ; a fatality that will for ever ren-
der me the most miserable of human beings, and
yet you, even you, my dear Miss Woodley, will not
pity me."
Miss Woodley pressed her closely in her arms,
and vowed, " That while she was unhappy, from
whatever cause, she still would pity her."
" Go to Mr. Dorriforth then, and prevent him
from imposing upon Lord Frederick."
"But that imposition is the only means of pre-
venting the duel," replied Miss Woodley. " The
moment I have told him that your affection was but
counterfeited, he will no longer refuse accepting the
challenge."
" Then at all events I am undone," exclaimed
Miss Milner; " for the duel is horrible, even beyond
every thing else."
" How so?" returned Miss Woodley, " since you
have declared that you do not care for my Lord
Frederick ?"
" But are you so blind," returned Miss Milner
with a degree of madness in her looks, " as to be-
lieve I do not care for Mr. Dorriforth ? Oh ! Miss
Woodley ! I love him with all the passion of a mis-
tress, and with all the tenderness of a wife."
Miss Woodley at this sentence sat down it was
on a chair that was close to her her feet could not
have taken her to any other. She trembled she
was white as ashes, and deprived of speech. Miss
Milner, taking her by the hand, said,
" I know what you feel I know what you
think of me and how much you hate and despise
me. But Heaven is witness to all my struggles
nor would I, even to myself, acknowledge the
A SIMPLE STORY. 75
shameless prepossession, till forced by a sense of his
danger"
" Silence ! " cried Miss Woodley, struck with
horror.
" And even now," resumed Miss Milner, " have
I not concealed it from all but you, by plunging
myself into a new difficulty, from which I know not
how I shall be extricated ? And do I entertain
a hope ? No, Miss Woodley, nor ever will. But
suffer me to own my folly to you, to entreat your
soothing friendship to free me from my weakness.
And, oh ! give me your advice to deliver me from
the difficulties which surround me."
Miss Woodley was still pale and still silent.
Education is called second nature. In the strict
(but not enlarged) education of Miss Woodley, it
was more powerful than the first ; and the violation
of oaths, persons, or things consecrated to Heaven,
was, in her opinion, if not the most enormous, yet
among the most terrific in the catalogue of crimes.
Miss Milner had lived so long in a family who had
imbibed those opinions, that she was convinced of
their existence : nay her own reason told her that
solemn vows of every kind ought to be sacred ; and
the more she respected her guardian's understand-
ing, the less did she call in question his religious
tenets : in esteeming him, she esteemed all his
notions ; and, among.the rest, venerated those of his
religion. Yet that passion, which had unhappily
taken possession of her whole soul, would not have
been inspired, had there not subsisted an early dif-
ference in their systems of divine faith. Had she
been early taught what were the sacred functions of
a Roman ecclesiastic, though all her esteem, all her
admiration, had been attracted by the qualities and
accomplishments of her guardian, yet education
would have given such a prohibition to her love,
H 2
76 A SIMPLE STORY.
that she would have been precluded from it, as by
that barrier which divides a sister from a brother.
This, unfortunately, was not the case ; and Miss
Milner loved Dorriforth without one conscious check
to tell her she was wrong, except that which con-
vinced her, her love would be avoided by him with
detestation, and with horror.
Miss Woodley, something recovered from her first
surprise and sufferings for never did her suscepti-
ble mind suffer so exquisitely amidst all her grief
and abhorrence, felt that pity was still predominant ;
and, reconciled to the faults of Miss Milner by
her misery, she once more looked ather with friend-
ship, and asked, " what she could do to render her
less unhappy."
" Make me forget," replied Miss Milner, " every
moment of my life since 1 first saw you. That mo-
ment was teeming with a weight of cares, under
which I must labour till my death."
" And even in death," replied Miss Woodley,
" do not hope to shake them off. If unrepented in
this world"
She was proceeding but the anxiety her friend
endured would not suffer her to be free from the
apprehension, that notwithstanding the positive as-
surance of her guardian, if he and Lord Frederick
should meet, the duel might still take place ; she
therefore rang the bell and inquired if Mr. Dorri-
forth was still at home ? The answer was, " He had
rode out." " You remember," said Miss Woodley,
" he told you he should dine from home." This
did not, however, dismiss her fears, and she dis-
patched two servants different ways in pursuit of
him, acquainting them with her suspicions, and
charging them to prevent the duel. Sandford had
also taken his precautions ; but though he knew the
time, he did not know the exact place of their ap-
A SIMPLE STORY. 77
pointment, for that Lord Elmwood had forgot to
inquire.
The excessive alarm which Miss Milner discover-
ed upon this occasion was imputed by the servants,
and by others who were witnesses of it, to her affec-
tion for Lord Frederick; while none but Miss Wood-
ley knew, or had the most distant suspicion of, the
real cause.
Mrs. Horton and Miss Fenton, who were sitting
together expatiating on the duplicity of their own
sex in the instance just before them, had, notwith-
standing the interest of the discourse, a longing de-
sire to break it off; for they were impatient to see
this poor frail being whom they were loading with
their censure. They longed to see if she would have
the confidence to look them in the face ; them, to
whom she had so often protested, that she had not
the smallest attachment to Lord Frederick, but from
motives of vanity.
These ladies heard with infinite satisfaction that
dinner had been served, but met Miss Milner at the
table with a less degree of pleasure than they had
expected ; for her mind was so totally abstracted
from any consideration of them, that they could not
discern a single blush, or confused glance, which
their presence occasioned. No, she had before them
divulged nothing of which she wasashamed : she was
only ashamed that what she had said was not true.
In the bosom of Miss Woodley alone was that secret
entrusted which could call a blush into her face; and
before her, she did feel confusion : before the gentle
friend, to whom she had till this time communicated
all her faults without embarrassment, she now cast
down her eyes in shame.
Soon after the dinner was removed, Lord Elm-
wood entered ; and that gallant young nobleman
declared " Mr. Sandford had used him ill, in not
li 3
78 A SIMPLE STORY.
permitting him to accompany his relation ; for he-
feared that Mr. Dorriforth would now throw him-
self upon the sword of Lord Frederick, without a
single friend near to defend him." A rebuke from
the eye of Miss Woodley, which, from this day, had
u command over Miss Milner, restrained her from
expressing the affright she suffered from this intima-
tion. Miss Fenton replied, " As to that, my lord,
I see no reason why Mr. Dorriforth and Lord Fre-
derick should not now be friends." " Certainly,"
said Mrs. Horton ; " for as soon as my Lord Frede-
rick is made acquainted with Miss Milner's confes-
sion, all differences must be reconciled." "What
confession?" asked Lord Elmwood.
Miss Milner, to avoid hearing a repetition of that
which gave her pain even to recollect, rose in order
to retire into her own apartment, but was obliged
to sit down again, till she received the assistance of
Lord Elmwood and her friend, who led her into her
dressing-room. She reclined upon a sofa there, and
though left alone with that friend, a silence followed
of half an hour: nor, when the conversation began,
was the name of Dorriforth once uttered ; they
were grown cool and considerate since the disco-
very, and both were equally fearful of naming him.
The vanity of the world, the folly of riches, the
charms of retirement, and such topics engaged their
discourse, but nottheir thoughts, for near two hours ;
and the first time the word Dorriforth was spoken
was by a servant, who with alacrity opened the
dressing-room door, without previously rapping, and
cried, " Madam, Mr. Dorriforth "
Dorriforth immediately came in, and went eagerly
to Miss Milner. Miss Woodley beheld the glow of
joy and of guilt upon her face, and did not rise to
give him her seat, as was her custom, when she was
sitting bv his ward and ho came to her with intel-
A SIMPLE STORY. 7D
ligence. He therefore stood while he repeated all
that had happened in his interview with Lord Fre-
derick.
But with her gladness to see her guardian safe,
she had forgot to inquire of the safety of his anta-
gonist of the man whom she had pretended to love
so passionately : even smiles of rapture were upon
her face, though Dorriforth might be returned from
putting him to death. This incongruity of behaviour
Miss Woodley observed, and was confounded ; but
Dorriforth, in whose thoughts a suspicion either of
her love for him or indifference for Lord Frederick
had no place, easily reconciled this inconsistency,
and said,
" You see by my countenance that all is well ; and
therefore you smile on me before I tell you what
has passed."
This brought her to the recollection of her con-
duct, and now with looks ill constrained, she at-
tempted the expression of an alarm she did not feel.
" Nay, I assure you Lord Frederick is safe," he
resumed, " and the disgrace of his blow washed en-
tirely away by a few drops of blood from this arm."
And he laid his hand upon his left arm, which rested
in his waistcoat as a kind of sling.
She cast her eyes there, and seeing where the ball
had entered the coat sleeve, she gave an involuntary
scream, and reclined upon the sofa. Instead of that
affectionate sympathy which Miss Woodley used to
exert upon her slightest illness or affliction, she now
addressed her in an unpitying tone, and said,
" Miss Milner, you have heard Lord Frederick is
safe : you have therefore nothing to alarm you."
Nor did she run to hold a smelling bottle, or to raise
her head. Her guardian seeing her near fainting,
and without any assistance from her friend, was
going himself to give it ; but on this, Miss Woodley
80 A SIMPLE STORY.
interfered, and having taken her head upon her arm,
assured him, " it was a weakness to which Miss
Milner was very subject; that she would ring for her
maid, who knew how to relieve her instantly with a
few drops." Satisfied with this assurance, Dorri-
forth left the room ; and a surgeon being come to
examine his wound, he retired into his own chamber.
CHAPTER XVI.
The power delegated by the confidential to those
entrusted with their secrets, Miss Woodley was the
last person on earth to abuse but she was also the
last who, by an accommodating complacency, would
participate in the guilt of her friend and there was
no guilt, except that of murder, which she thought
equal to the crime in question, if it was ever perpe-
trated. Adultery, reason would perhaps have in-
formed her, was a more pernicious evil to society ;
hut to a religious mind, what sound is so horrible as
sacrilege ? Of vows made to God or to man, the
former must weigh the heaviest. Moreover, the sin
of infidelity in the married state is not a little sof-
tened, to common understandings, by its frequency;
whereas, of religious vows broken by a devotee she
had never heard ; unless where the offence had been
followed by such examples of divine vengeance, such
miraculous punishments in this world (as well as
eternal punishment in the other), as served to ex-
aggerate the wickedness.
She, who could and who did pardon Miss Milner,
was the person who saw her passion in the severest
light, and resolved upon every method, however
harsh, to root it from her heart ; nor did she fear
success, resting on the certain assurance, that how-
ever deep her love might be fixed, it would never be
A SIMPLE STORY- 81
returned. Yet this confidence did not prevent her
taking every precaution, lest Dorriforth should come
to the knowledge of it. She would not have his
composed mind disturbed with such a thought his
stedfast principles so much as shaken by the ima-
gination nor overwhelm him with those self-re-
proaches which his fatal attraction, unpremeditated
as it was, would still have drawn upon him.
With this plan of concealment, in which the na-
tural modesty of Miss Milner acquiesced, there was
but one effort for which this unhappy ward was not
prepared ; and that was an entire separation from
her guardian. She had, from the first, cherished
her passion without the most remote prospect of a
return : she was prepared to see Dorriforth, without
ever seeing him more nearly connected to her than
as her guardian and friend ; but not to see him at
all for that, she was not prepared.
But Miss Woodley reflected upon the inevitable
necessity of this measure before she made the pro-
posal, and then made it with a firmness that might
have done honour to the inflexibility of Dorriforth
himself.
During the few days that intervened between her
open confession, of a passion for Lord Frederick,
and this proposed plan of separation, the most intri-
cate incoherence appeared in the character of Miss
Milner ; and, in order to evade a marriage with him,
and conceal, at the same time, the shameful propen-
sity which lurked in her breast, she was once even
on the point of declaring a passion for Sir Edward
Ashton.
In the duel which had taken place between Lord
Frederick and Dorriforth, the latter had received
the fire of his antagonist, but positively refused to
return it ; by which he had kept his promise not to
endanger his lordship's life, and had reconciled
82 A SIMPLE STORY.
JSandford, in great measure, to his behaviour and
Sandford now (his resolution once broken) no
longer refused entering Miss Milner's house, but
came whenever it was convenient, though he yet
avoided the mistress of it as much as possible ; or
showed by every word and look, when she was pre-
sent, that she was still less in his favour than she
had ever been.
He visited Dorriforth on the evening of his en-
gagement with Lord Frederick, and the next morn-
ing breakfasted with him in his own chamber; nor
did Miss Milner see her guardian after his first re-
turn from that engagement before the following
noon. She inquired, however, of his servant how
he did, and was rejoiced to hear that his wound was
but slight ; yet this inquiry she durst not make be-
fore Miss Woodley.
When Dorriforth made his appearance the next
day, it was evident that he had thrown from his
heart a load of cares ; and though they had left a
languor upon his face, content was in his voice, in
his manners, in every word and action. Far from
seeming to retain any resentment against his ward,
for the danger into which her imprudence had led
him, he appeared rather to pity her indiscretion,
and to wish to sooth the perturbation, which the
recollection of her own conduct had evidently raised
in her mind. His endeavours were successful
she was soothed every time he spoke to her ; and
had not the watchful eye of Miss Woodley stood
guard over her inclinations, she had plainly dis-
covered, that she was enraptured with the joy of
seeing him again himself, after the danger to which
he had been exposed.
These emotions, which she laboured to subdue,
passed, however, the bounds of her ineffectual re-
sistance, when, at the time of her retiring after
A SIMPLE STORY. 83
dinner, he said to her in a low voice, but such
as it was meant the company should hear, " Do
me the favour, Miss Milner, to call at my study
some time in the evening : I have to speak with
you upon business."
She answered, " I will, sir." And her eyes
swam with delight, in expectation of the interview.
Let not the reader, nevertheless, imagine, there
was in that ardent expectation, one idea which the
most spotless mind, in love, might not have indulged
without reproach. Sincere love (at least among
the delicate of the female sex) is often gratified by
that degree of enjoyment, or rather forbearance,
which would be torture in the pursuit of any other
passion. Real, delicate, and restrained love, such
as Miss Milner's, was indulged in the sight of the
object only ; and having bounded her wishes by her
hopes, the height of her happiness was limited to a
conversation in which no other but themselves took
a part.
Miss Woodley was one of those who heard the
appointment, but the only one who conceived with
what sensation it was received.
While the ladies remained in the same room with
Doniforth, Miss Milner had thought of little, ex-
cept of him. As soon as they withdrew into an-
other apartment, she remembered Miss Woodley ;
and turning her head suddenly, saw her friend's
face imprinted with suspicion and displeasure. This
at first was painful to her ; but recollecting, that
within a couple of hours she was to meet her guar-
dian alone to speak to him, and hear him speak to
her only : every other thought was absorbed in that
one, and she considered with indifference, the un-
easiness or the anger of her friend.
Miss Milner, to do justice to her heart, did not.
wish to beguile Dorriforth into the snares of love.
4 A SIMPLE STORY.
Could any supernatural power have endowed her
with the means, and at the same time have shown to
her the ills that must arise from such an effect of
her charms, she had assuredly virtue enough to have
declined the conquest ; but without inquiring what
she proposed, she never saw him, without previously
endeavouring to look more attractive than she would
have desired before any other person. And now,
without listening to the thousand exhortations that
spoke in every feature of Miss Woodley, she flew to
a looking-glass, to adjust her dress in a manner that
she thought most enchanting.
Time stole away, and the time of going to her
guardian arrived. In his presence, unsupported by
the presence of any other, every grace that she had
practised, every look that she had borrowed to set
off her charms, were annihilated ; and she became
a native beauty, with the artless arguments of rea-
son, only, for her aid. Awed thus by his power,
from every thing but what she really was, she never
was perhaps half so bewitching, as in those timid,
respectful, and embarrassed moments she passed
alone with him. He caught at those times her re-
spect, her diffidence, nay, even her embarrassment ;
and never would one word of anger pass on either
side.
On the present occasion, he first expressed the
high satisfaction that she had given him, by at
length revealing to him the real state of her mind.
" And when I take every thing into consideration,
Miss Milner," added he, "I rejoice that your sen-
timents happen to be such as you have owned. For,
although my Lord Frederick is not the very man I
could have wished for your perfect happiness ; yet,
in the state of human perfection and human happi-
ness, you might have fixed your affections with per-
haps less propriety ; and still, where my unwillingness
A SIMPLE STORY. 85
to hate thwarted your inclinations might not have
permitted me to contend with them."
Not a word of reply did this speech demand ; or,
if it had, not a word could she have given.
" And now, madam, the reason of my desire
to speak with you is, to know the means you
think most proper to pursue, in order to acquaint
Lord Frederick, that notwithstanding this late
repulse, there are hopes of your partiality in his
favour."
" Defer the explanation," she replied eagerly.
" I heg your pardon it cannot be. Besides,
how can you indulge a disposition thus unpitying ?
Even so ardently did I desire to render the man
who loves you happy, that though he came armed
against my life, had I not reflected, tha|r.previous
to our engagement it would appear like fear, and
the means of bartering for his forgiveness, I should
have revealed your sentiments the moment I had
seen him. When the engagement was over, I was
too impatient to acquaint you with his safety, to
think then on gratifying him. And, indeed, the
delicacy of the declaration, after the many denials
which you have no doubt given him, should be con-
sidered. I therefore consult your opinion upon the
manner in which it shall be made."
" Mr. Dorriforth, can you allow nothing to the
moments of surprise, and that pity, which the fate
impending inspired ; and which might urge me to
express myself of Lord Frederick in a manner my
cooler thoughts will not warrant?"
" There was nothing in your expressions, my
dear Miss Milner, the least equivocal. If you were
off your guard when you pleaded for Lord Fre-
derick, as I believe you were, you said more sin-
cerely what you thought; and no discreet, or rather
VOL. xxvm. I
86 A SIMPLE STORY.
indiscreet attempts to retract, can make me change
these sentiments."
"I am very sorry," she replied, confused and
trembling.
" Why sorry ? Come, give me commission to
reveal your partiality. I'll not be too hard upon
you : a hint from me will do. Hope is ever apt to
interpret the slightest words to its own use, and a
lover's hope is, beyond all others, sanguine."
" I never gave Lord Frederick hope."
" But you never plunged him into despair."
" His pursuit intimates that I never have; but he
has no other proof."
" However light and frivolous you have been upon
frivolous subjects, yet I must own, Miss Milner,
that 1 did expect, when a case of this importance
came seriously before you, you would have disco-
vered a proper stability in your behaviour."
" I do, sir ; and it was only when I was affected
with a weakness, which arose from accident, that I
have betrayed inconsistency."
" You then assert again, that you have no affec-
tion for my Lord Frederick?"
" Not enough to become his wife."
" You are alarmed at marriage, and I do not
wonder you should be so : it shows a prudent fore-
sight which does you honour. But, my dear, are
there no dangers in a single state ? If I may judge,
Miss Milner, there are many more to a young lady
of your accomplishments, than if you were under
the protection of a husband."
" My father, Mr. Dorriforth, thought your pro-
tection sufficient."
" But that protection was rather to direct your
choice, than to be the cause of your not choosing
at all. Give me leave to point out an observation
A SIMPLE STORY. 87
which, perhaps, I have too frequently made before ;
but upon this occasion I must intrude it once
again. Miss Fenton is its object: her fortune is
inferior to yours ; her personal attractions are
less"
Here the powerful glow of joy, and of gratitude,
for an opinion so negligently, and yet so sincerely
expressed, flew to Miss Milner's face, neck, and
even to her hands and lingers : the blood mounted
to every part of her skin that was visible, for not a
flbre but felt the secret transport that Dorriforth
thought her more beautiful than the beautiful Miss
Fenton.
If he observed her blushes, he was unsuspicious
of the cause, and went on :
" There is, besides, in the temper of Miss Fenton,
a sedateness that might with less hazard ensure her
safety in an unmarried life ; and yet she very pro-
perly thinks it her duty, as she does not mean to
seclude herself by any vows to the contrary, to be-
come a wife ; and, in obedience to the counsel of
her friends, will be married within a very few
weeks."
" Miss Fenton may marry from obedience : I
never will."
" You mean to say, that love shall alone induce
you."
" I do."
" If you would point out a subject upon which I
am the least able to reason, and on which my sen-
timents, such as they are, are formed only from
theory, and even there more cautioned than in-
structed, it is the subject of love. And yet, even
that little which I know, tells me, without a doubt,
that what you said yesterday, pleading for Lord
Frederick's life, was the result of the most violent
and tender love."
I 2
88 A SIMPLE STORY.
" The little you know, then, Mr. Dorriforth, has
deceived you. Had you known more, you would
have judged otherwise."
" 1 submit to the merit of your reply ; but with-
out allowing me a judge at all, I will appeal to those
who were present with me."
" Are Mrs. Horton and Mr. Sandford to be the
connoisseurs?"
" No: I'll appeal to MissFenton and MissVVood-
le y-"
" And yet, I believe," replied she with a smile,
" I believe theory must only be the judge even
there."
" Then, from all you have said, madam, on this
occasion, I am to conclude that you still refuse to
marry Lord Frederick V
" You are."
" And you submit never to see him again?"
" I do."
" All you then said to me yesterday was false?"
" I was not mistress of myself at the time."
" Therefore it was truth ! For shame, for shame ! "
At that moment the door opened, and Mr. Sand-
ford walked in. He started back on seeing Miss
Milner, and was going away ; but Dorriforth called
to him to stay, and said with warmth,
" Tell me, Mr. Sandford, by what power, by what
persuasion, I can prevail upon Miss Milner to con-
fide in me as her friend ; to lay her heart open, and
credit mine when I declare to her that I have no
view in all the advice I give to her, but her imme-
diate welfare."
" Mr. Dorriforth, you know my opinion of that
lady," replied Sandford : " it has been formed ever
since my first acquaintance with her, and it con-
tinues the same."
" But instruct me how I am to inspire her with
A SIMPLE STORY. 89
confidence," returned Dorriforth ; " how I am to
impress her with a sense of that which is for her
advantage."
" You can work no miracles," replied Sandford :
" you are not holy enough."
"And yet my ward," answered Dorriforth, " ap-
pears to be acquainted with that mystery ; for what
but the force of a miracle can induce her to contra-
dict to-day what before you, and several other wit-
nesses, she positively acknowledged yesterday ? "
" Do you call that miraculous 1 " cried Sandford :
'* the miracle had been if she had not done so for
did she not yesterday contradict what she acknow-
ledged the day before? and will she not to-morrow
disavow what she says to-day ? "
" I wish that she may," replied Dorriforth,
mildly ; for he saw the tears flowing down her face
at the rough and severe manner in which Sandford
had spoken, and he began to feel for her uneasiness.
" I beg pardon," cried Sandford, " for speaking
so rudely to the mistress of the house. I have no
business here, I know; but where you are, Mr. Dor-
riforth, unless 1 am turned out, I shall always think
it my duty to come."
Miss Milner curtsied, as much as to say he was
welcome to come. He continued,
" I was to blame, that upon a nice punctilio, I
left you so long without my visits, and without my
counsel : in that time, you have run the hazard of
being murdered, and, what is worse, of being ex-
communicated ; for had you been so rash as to have
returned your opponent's tire, not all my interest
at Rome would have obtained remission of the
punishment."
Miss Milner, through all her tears, could not now
restrain her laughter. On which he resumed :
" And here do 1 venture, like a missionary among
i 3
90 A SIMPLE STORY.
savages ; but if 1 can only save you from their
scalping" knives from the miseries which that lady
is preparing for you I am rewarded."
Sandford spoke this with great fervour; and the
offence of her love never appeared to her in so tre-
mendous a point of view, as when thus, unknow-
ingly, alluded to by him.
" The miseries that lady is preparing for you,"
hung upon her ears like the notes of a raven, and
sounded equally ominous. The words " murder"
and " tx communication " he had likewise uttered ;
all the fatal effects of sacrilegious love. Frightful
superstitions struck her to the heart, and she could
scarcely prevent falling down under their oppres-
sion.
Dorriforth beheld the difficulty she had in sus-
taining herself, and with the utmost tenderness
went towards her; and, supporting her, said, " 1
beg your pardon ; I invited you hither with a far
different intention than your uneasiness ; and be
assured "
Sandford was beginning to speak, when Dorri-
forth resumed " Hold, Mr. Sandford : the lady is
under my protection ; and I know not whether it is
not requisite that you should apologize to her, and
to me, for what you have already said."
" You asked my opinion, or I had not given it
you : would you have me, like her, speak what 1 do
not think ?"
" Say no more, sir," cried Dorriforth ; and, lead-
ing her kindly to the door, as if to defend her from
his malice, told her, " he would take another op-
portunity of renewing the subject."
A SIMPLE STORY. 1)1
CHAPTER XVII.
WHEN Dorriforth was alone with Sandford, he ex-
plained to him what before he had only hinted ; and
this learned Jesuit frankly confessed, " That the
mind of woman was far above, or rather beneath,
his comprehension." It was so indeed ; for with
all his penetration, and few even of that school had
more, he had not yet penetrated into the recesses
of Miss Milner's mind.
Miss Wood ley, to whom she repeated all that had
passed between herself, her guardian, and Sandford,
took this moment, in the agitation of her spirits, to
alarm her still more by prophetic insinuations ; and
at length represented to her here, for the first time,
the necessity, " That Mr. Dorriforth and she no
longer should remain under the same roof." This
was like the stroke of sudden death to Miss Milner ;
and, clinging to life, she endeavoured to avert the
blow by prayers, and by promises. Her friend
loved her too sincerely to be prevailed upon.
" But in what manner can I accomplish the sepa-
ration?" cried she : " for, till I marry, we are obliged,
by my father's request, to live in the same house."
" Miss Milner," answered Miss Woodley, " much
as I respect the will of a dying man, I regard your
and Mr. Doiriforth's present and eternal happiness
much more ; and it is my resolution that you shall
part. If you will not contrive the means, that duty
falls on me ; and without any invention, I see the
measure at once."
" What is it?" cried Miss Milner, eagerly.
" I will reveal to Mr. Dorriforth, without hesi-
tation, the real state of your heart ; which your
present inconsistency of conduct will but too readily
confirm."
92 A SIMPLE STORY.
" You would not plunge me into so much shame,
into so much anguish ! " cried she, distractedly.
" No," replied Miss Woodley, " not for the world,
if you will separate from him by any mode of your
own : but that you shall separate is my determina-
tion ; and in spite of all your sufferings, this shall be
the expedient, unless you instantly agree to some
other."
" Good Heaven, Miss Woodley ! is this your
friendship 'I "
" Yes and the truest friendship I have to be
stow. Think what a task 1 undertake for your sake
and his, when I condemn myself to explain to him
your weakness. What astonishment ! what confu-
sion ! what remorse do I foresee painted upon his
face ! I hear him call you by the harshest names,
and behold him fly from your sight for ever, as from
an object of his detestation."
" Oh, spare the dreadful picture ! Fly from my
sight for ever ! Detest my name ! Oh, my dear
Miss Woodley ! let but his friendship for me still
remain, and 1 will consent to any thing. You may
command me. I will go away from him directly ;
but let us part in friendship. Oh ! without the
friendship of Mr. Dorriforth, life would be a heavy
burthen indeed."
Miss Woodley immediately began to contrive
schemes for their separation ; and, with all her in-
vention alive on the subject, the following was the
only natural one that she could form.
Miss Milner, in a letter to her distant relation at
Bath, was to complain of the melancholy of a coun-
try life, which she was to say her guardian imposed
upon her ; and she was to entreat the lady to send a
pressing invitation that she would pass a month or
two at her house : this invitation was to be laid be-
fore Dorriforth for his approbation ; and the two
A SIMPLE STORY. 03
ladies were to enforce it, by expressing their earnest
wishes for his consent. This plan having been pro-
perly regulated, the necessary letter was sent to
Bath, and Miss Woodley waited with patience, but
with a watchful guard upon the conduct of her
friend, till the answer should arrive.
During this interim a tender and complaining
epistle from Lord Frederick was delivered to Miss
Milner ; to which, as he received no answer, he pre-
vailed upon his uncle, with whom he resided, to wait
upon her, and obtain a verbal reply ; for he still
flattered himself, that fear of her guardian's anger,
or perhaps his interception of the letter which he
had sent, was the sole cause of her apparent indif-
ference.
The old gentleman was introduced both to Miss
Milner and to Mr. Dorriforth; but received from
each an answer so explicit, that it left his nephew no
longer in doubt but that all farther pursuit was vain.
Sir Edward Ashton, about this time, also sub-
mitted to a formal dismission ; and had then the
mortification to reflect, that he was bestowing upon
the object of his affections the tenderest proof of
his regard by having absented himself entirely
from her society.
Upon this serious and certain conclusion to the
hopes of Lord Frederick, Dorriforth was more as-
tonished than ever at the conduct of his ward. He
had once thought her behaviour in this respect was
ambiguous; but since her confession of a passion for
that nobleman, he had no doubt but in the end she
would become his wife. He lamented to find him-
self mistaken, and thought it proper now to condemn
her caprice, not merely in words, but in the general
tenor of his behaviour. He consequently became
more reserved, and more austere than he had been
since his first acquaintance with her ; for his man-
94 A SIMPLE STORY.
ners, not from design, but imperceptibly to himself,
had been softened since he became her guardian, by
that tender respect which he had uniformly paid to
the object of his protection.
Notwithstanding the severity he now assumed,
his ward, in the prospect of parting from him, grew
melancholy ; Miss Woodley's love to her friend ren-
dered her little otherwise ; and Dorriforth's peculiar
gravity, frequently rigour, could not but make their
whole party less cheerful than it had been. Lord
Elmwood too, at this time, was lying dangerously ill
of a fever ; Miss Fenton, of course, was as much in
sorrow as her nature would permit her to be ; and
both Sandford and Dorriforth were in extreme con-
cern upon his lordship's account.
In this posture of affairs, the letter of invitation
arrives from Lady Luneham at Bath. It Mas shown
to Dorriforth ; and, to prove to his ward that he is so
much offended as no longer to feel that excessive
interest in her concerns which he once felt, he gives
an opinion on the subject with indifference : he de-
sires " Miss Milner will do what she herself thinks
proper." Miss Woodley instantly accepts this per-
mission, writes back, and appoints the day upon
which her friend means to set off for the visit.
Miss Milner is wounded at the heart by the cold
and unkind manners of her guardian, but dares not
take one step to retrieve his opinion. Alone, or to
her friend, she sighs and weeps : he discovers her
sorrow, and is doubtful whether the departure of
Lord Frederick from that part of the country is not
the cause.
When the time she was to set out for Bath was
only two days off, the behaviour of Dorriforth took,
by degrees, its usual form, if not a greater share of
polite and tender attention than ever. It was the
first time he had parted from Miss Milner since he
A SIMPLE STORY. 05
became her guardian, and he felt upon the occasion,
a reluctance. He had been angry with her, he had
shown her that he was so, and he now began to wish
that he had not. She is not happy (he considered
within himself) : every word and action declares she
is not: I may have been too severe, and added per-
haps to her uneasiness. " At least we will part on
good terms," said he. " Indeed, my regard for her
is such, I cannot part otherwise."
She soon discerned his returning kindness, and it
was a gentle tie that would have fastened her to that
spot for ever, but for the firm resistance of Miss
Woodley.
" What will the absence of a few months effect ?"
said she, pleading her own cause. " At the end of a
few months at farthest, he will expect me back ; and
where then will be the merit of this separation ?"
" In that time," replied Miss Woodley, " we
may find some method to make it longer." To this
she listened with a kind of despair, but uttered, she
was " resigned," and she prepared for her depar-
ture.
Dorriforth was all anxiety that every circumstance
of her journey should be commodious: he was eager
she should be happy ; and he was eager she should
see that he entirely forgave her. He would have
gone part of the way with her, but for the extreme
illness of Lord Elmwood, in whose chamber he pass-
ed most of the day, and slept in Elmwood House
every night.
On the morning of her journey, when Dorriforth
gave his hand and conducted Miss Milner to the
carriage, all the way he led her she could not re-
strain her tears; which increased, as he parted from
her, to convulsive sobs. He was affected by her
grief; and though he had previously bid her fare-
well, he drew her gently on one side, and said, with
96* A SIMPLE STORY.
the tenderest concern, " My dear Miss Milner, we
part friends? I hope we do. OnJmy side, depend
upon it, that I regret nothing so much at our sepa-
ration, as having ever given you a moment's pain."
" I believe so," was all she could utter ; for she
hastened from him lest his discerning eye should
discover the cause of the weakness which thus over-
came her. But her apprehensions were groundless :
the rectitude of his own heart was a har to the sus-
picion of hers. He once more kindly bade her
adieu, and the carriage drove away.
Miss Fenton and Miss Woodley accompanied her
part of the journey, ahout thirty miles, where they
were met by Sir Henry and Lady Luneham. Here
was a parting nearly as affecting as that between
her and her guardian.
Miss Woodley, who, for several weeks, had treat-
ed her friend with a rigidness she herself hardly
supposed was in her nature, now bewailed that she
had done so ; implored her forgiveness; promised
to correspond with her punctually, and to omit
no opportunity of giving her every consolation short
of cherishing her fatal passion but in that, and that
only, was the heart of Miss Milner to be consoled.
CHAPTER XVIII.
When Miss Milner arrived at Bath, she thought
it the most altered place she had ever seen. She
was mistaken : it was herself that was changed.
The walks were melancholy, the company insipid,
the ball room fatiguing : for she had left behind
all that could charm or please her.
Though she found herself much less happy than
when she was at Bath before, yet she felt that she
A SIMPLE STORY. 97
would not, even to enjoy all that past happiness, be
again reduced to the being she was at that period.
Thus does the lover consider the extinction of his
passion with the same horror as the libertine looks
upon annihilation : the one would rather live here-
after, though in all the tortures described as consti-
tuting his future state, than cease to exist ; so, there
are no tortures which a lover would not suffer, rather
than cease to love.
In the wide prospect of sadness before her, Miss
Milner's fancy caught hold of the only comfort
which presented itself; and this, faint as it was, in
the total absence of every other, her imagination
painted to her as excessive. The comfort was a
letter from Miss Woodley a letter, in which the
subject of her love would most assuredly be men-
tioned ; and, in whatever terms, it would still be the
means of delight.
A letter arrived she devoured it with her eyes.
The post mark denoting from whence it came,
the name of " Milner Lodge" written on the top,
were all sources of pleasure ; and she read slowly
every line it contained, to procrastinate the pleasing
expectation she enjoyed, till she should arrive at the
name of Dorriforth. At last, her impatient eye
caught the word, three lines beyond the place she
was' reading: irresistibly, she skipped over those
lines, and fixed on the point to which she was
attracted.
Miss Woodley was cautious in her indulgence; she
made the slightest mention possible of Dorriforth ;
saying only, " He was extremely concerned, and even
dejected, at the little hope there was of his cousin
Lord Elmwood's recovery." Short and trivial as
this passage was, it was still more important to Miss
Milner than any other in the letter : she read it
again and again, considered, and reflected upon it.
VOL. XXVIII. K
98 A SIMFLE STORY.
Dejected ! thoughtshe : what does that word exactly
mean ? Did I ever see Mr. Dorriforth dejected (
How, I wonder, does he look in that state ? Thus
did she muse, while the cause of his dejection,
though a most serious one, and pathetically des-
cribed by Miss Woodley, scarcely arrested her at-
tention. She ran over with haste the account of
Lord Elmwood's state of health : she certainly
pitied him while she thought of him, but she did
not think of him long. To die, was a hard fate for
a young nobleman just in possession of his immense
fortune and on the eve of marriage with a beautiful
young woman ; but Miss Milner thought that an
abode in heaven might be still better than all this,
and she had no doubt but that his lordship would be
an inhabitant there. The forlorn state of Miss
Fenton ought to have been a subject for her com-
passion ; but she knew that lady had resignation to
bear any lot with patience, and that a trial of her
fortitude might be more flattering to her vanity
than to be Countess of Elmwood : in a word, she
saw no one's misfortunes equal to her own, because
she knew no one so little able to bear misfortune.
She replied to Miss Woodley's letter, and dvvelt
very long on that subject which her friend had passed
over lightly. This was another indulgence : and this
epistolary intercourse was now the only enjoyment
she possessed. From Bath she paid several visits
with Lady Luneham : all were alike tedious and
melancholy.
But her guardian wrote to her; and though it was
on atopic of sorrow, the letter gave her joy. The
sentiments it expressed were merely common-place,
yet she valued them as the dearest effusions of
friendship and affection ; and her hands trembled,
and her heart beat with rapture while she wrote the
answer, though she knew it would not be received
A SIMPLE STORY. 1)9
by him with one emotion like those which she ex-
perienced. In her second letter to Miss Woodley,
she prayed like a person insane to be taken home
from confinement, and, like a lunatic, protested in
sensible language, she " had no disorder." But her
friend replied, " That very declaration proves its
violence." And she assured her, nothing less than
placing her affections elsewhere should induce her
to believe but that she was incurable.
The third letter from Milner Lodge brought the
news of Lord Elmwood's death. Miss Woodley was
exceedingly affected by this event, and said little
else on any other subject. Miss Milner was shocked
when she read the words " He is dead," and in-
stantly thought,
" How transient are all sublunary things ! Within
a few years / shall be dead ; and how happy will it
then be, if I have resisted every temptation to the
alluring pleasures of this life !" The happiness of a
peaceful death, occupied her contemplation for near
an hour ; but at length, every virtuous and pious
sentiment this meditation inspired served but to re-
mind her of the many sentences she had heard from
her guardian's lips upon the same subject : her
thoughts were again fixed on him, and she could
think of nothing besides.
In a short time after this, her health became im-
paired from the indisposition of her mind : she lan-
guished, and was once in imminent danger. During
a slight delirium of her fever, Miss Woodley 's name
and her guardian's were incessantly repeated. Lady
Luneham sent them immediate word of this ; and
they both hastened to Bath, and arrived there just
as the violence and danger of her disorder had
ceased. As soon as she became perfectly recollect-
ed, her first care, knowing the frailty of her heart,
was to inquire what she had uttered while delirous.
K 2
100 A SIMPLE STORY.
Miss Woodley, who was by her bed side, begged
her not to be alarmed on that account, and assured
her she knew, from all her attendants, that she had
only spoken with a friendly remembrance (as was
really the case) of those persons who were dear to her.
She wished to know whether her guardian was
come to see her, but she had not the courage to ask
before her friend ; and she in her turn was afraid by
the too sudden mention of his name, to discompose
her. Her maid, however, after some little time,
entered the chamber, and whispered Miss Woodley.
Miss Milner asked inquisitively, " what she said."
The maid replied softly, " Lord Elmwood, madam
wishes to come and see you for a few moments, if
you will allow him."
At this reply Miss Milner stared wildly.
" I thought," said she, " I thought Lord Elm-
wood had been dead. Are my senses disordered
still ?"
" No, my dear," answered Miss Woodley : " it is
the present Lord Elmwood who wishes to see you :
he whom you left ill when you came hither is dead."
" And who is the present Lord Elmwood V she
asked.
Miss Woodley, after a short hesitation, replied
" Your guardian."
" And so he is," cried Miss Milner: "he is the
next heir I had forgot. But is it possible that he
is here ?"
" Yes " returned Miss Woodley with a grave
voice and manner, to moderate that glow of satis-
faction which for a moment sparkled even in her
languid eye, and blushed over her pallid countenance
" Yes ; as he heard you were ill, he thought it
right to come and see you."
" He is very good," she answered, and the teat-
started in her eyes.
A SIMPLE STORY. 101
" Would you please to see his lordship '?" asked
her maid.
" Not yet, not yet," she replied : " let me recol-
lect myself first." And she looked with a timid
doubt upon her friend, to ask if it was proper.
Miss Woodley could hardly support this humble
reference to her judgment, from the wan face of the
poor invalid, and taking her by the hand, whispered,
" You shall do what you please." In a few minutes
Lord Elmwood was introduced.
To those who sincerely love, every change of
situation or circumstances in the object beloved,
appears an advantage. So the acquisition of a title
and estate was, in Miss Milner's eye, an inestimable
advantage to her guardian ; not on account of their
real value; but that any change, instead of diminish-
ing her passion, would have served only to increase
it, even a change to the utmost poverty.
When he entered, the sight of him seemed to be
too much for her ; and after the first glance she
turned her head away. The sound of his voice en-
couraged her to look once more ; and then she ri'
etted her eyes upon him.
" It is impossible, my dear Miss Milner," he
gently whispered, " to say, what joy I feel that your
disorder has subsided/
But though it was impossible to say, it was pos-
sible to look what he felt, and his looks expressed
his feelings. In the zeal of those sensations, he laid
hold of her hand, and held it between his : this he
did not himself know ; but she did.
" You have prayed for me, my lord, I make no
doubt," said she, and smiled, as if thanking him for
those prayers.
" Fervently, ardently !" returned he ; and the
fervency with which he had prayed spoke in every
feature.
K 3
102 A SIMPLE STORY.
" But I am a Protestant, you know ; and if I had
died such, do you believe I should have gone to
heaven V
" Most assuredly, that would not have prevented
you."
"But Mr. Sandford does not think so."
" He must; for he hopes to go there himself."
To keep her guardian with her, Miss Milnrr
seemed inclined to converse ; but her solicitous
friend gave Lord Elmwood a look which implied
that it might be injurious to her, and he retired.
They had only one more interview before he left
the place ; at which Miss Milner was capable of
sitting up. He was with her, however, but a very
short time, some necessary concerns relative to
his late kinsman's affairs calling him in haste
to London. Miss Woodley continued with her
friend till she saw her entirely reinstated in her
health : during which time her guardian was fre-
quently the subject of their private conversation ;
and upon those occasions Miss Milner has some-
times brought Miss Woodley to acknowledge, " that
could Mr. Dorriforth have possibly foreseen the
early death of the last Lord Elmwood, it had been
more for the honour of his religion (as that ancient
title would now after him become extinct), if he had
preferred marriage vows to those of celibacy."
CHAPTER XIX.
When the time for Miss Woodley's departure ar-
rived, Miss Milner entreated earnestly to accompany
her home, and made the most solemn promises that
she would guard not only her behaviour, but her
very thoughts, within the limitation her friend should
prescribe. Miss Woodley at length yielded thus far,
A SIMPLE STORY. J 03
" That as soon as Lord Elinwood was set out on his
journey to Italy, where she had heard him say that
he should soon be obliged to go, she would no longer
deny her the pleasure of returning ; and it" (after
the long absence which must consequently take place
between him and her) she could positively affirm
the suppression of her passion was the happy result,
she would then take her word, and risk the danger
of seeing them once more reside together."
This concession having been obtained, they,
parted ; and, as winter was now far advanced, Miss
Wood ley returned to her aunt's house in town, from
whence Mrs. Horton was, however, preparing to
remove in order to superintend Lord Elmwood's
house (which had been occupied by the late earl),
in Grosvenor Square ; and her niece was to accom-
pany her.
If Lord Elmwood was not desirous that Miss
Milner should conclude her visit and return to his
protection, it was partly from the multiplicity of
affairs in which he was at this time engaged, and
partly from having Mr. Sandford now entirely placed
with him as his chaplain ; for he dreaded, that living
in the same house, their natural antipathy might be
increased even to aversion. Upon this account, he
once thought of advising Mr. Sandford to take up
his abode elsewhere ; but the great pleasure he took
in his society, joined to the bitter mortification he
knew such a proposal would be to his friend, would
not suffer him to make it.
Miss Milner all this time was not thinking upon
those she hated, but on those she loved. Sandford
never came into her thoughts, while the image of
Lord Elmwood never left them. One morning, as
she sat talking to Lady Luncham on various subjects,
but thinking alone on him, Sir Harry Luneham, with
another gentleman, a Mr. Fleetrnond, came in, and
104 A SIMPLE STORY.
the conversation turned upon the improbability there
had been, at the present Lord Elmwood's birth,
that he should ever inherit the title and estate which
had now fallen to him and, said Mr. Fleetmond,
" Independent of rank and fortune, this unexpected
occurrence must be matter of infinite joy to Mr.
Dorriforth."
" No," answered Sir Harry, " independent of
rank and fortune, it must be a motive of concern to
him ; for he must now regret, beyond measure, his
folly in taking priest's orders ; thus depriving himself
of the hopes of an heir, so that his title, at his death,
will be lost."
" By no means," replied Mr. Fleetmond ; " he
may yet have an heir, for he will certainly marry."
" Marry !" cried the baronet.
" Yes," answered the other; " it was that I meant
by the joy it might probably give him, beyond the
possession of his estate and title."
" How be married?" said Lady Luneham. " Has
he not taken a vow never to marry V
" Yes," answered Mr. Fleetmond ; " but there are
no religious vows from which the sovereign pontiff
at Rome cannot grant a dispensation : as those
commandments which are made by the Church, the
Church has always the power to revoke ; and when
it is for the general good of religion, his holiness
thinks it incumbent on him to publish his bull, and
remit all penalties for their non-observance. Cer-
tainly it is for the honour of the Catholics, that this
earldom should continue in a catholic family. In
short, I'll venture to lay a wager, my Lord Ehnwood
is married within a year."
Miss Milner, who listened with attention, feared
she was in a dream, or deceived by the pretended
knowledge of Mr. Fleetmond, who might know no-
thing: yet all that he had said was very probable;
A SIMPLE STOftY. 10S
and he was himself a Roman Catholic, so that he
must be well informed on the subject upon which
he spoke. If she had heard the direst news that
ever sounded in the ear of the most susceptible of
mortals, the agitation of her mind and person could
not have been stronger : she felt, while every word
was speaking, a chill through all her veins a plea-
sure too exquisite, not to bear along with it the
sensation of exquisite pain ; of which she was so
sensible, that for a few moments it made her wish
that she had not heard the intelligence ; though,
very soon after, she would not but have heard it for
the world.
As soon as she had recovered from her first asto-
nishment and joy, she wrote to JVliss Woodley an
exact account of what she had heard, and received
this answer :
" I am sorry any body should have given you this
piece of information, because it was a task in exe-
cuting which I had promised myself extreme satis-
faction : but from the fear that your health was not
yet strong enough to support, without some danger,
the burthen of hopes which I knew would, upon this
occasion, press upon you, I deferred my communi-
cation, and it has been anticipated. Yet, as you
seem in doubt as to the reality of what you have
been told, perhaps this confirmation of it may fall
very little short of the first news; especially when
it is enforced by my request, that you will come to
us, as soon as you can with propriety leave Lady
Luneham.
" Come, my dear Miss Milner, and find in your
once rigid monitor a faithful confidante. I will no
longer threaten to disclose a secret you have trusted
me with, but leave it to the wisdom or sensibility of
his heart (who is now to penetrate into the hearts
of our sex, in search of one that mav beat in unison
106 A SIMPLE STORY.
with his own) to find the secret out. I no longer
condemn, but congratulate you on your passion ;
and will assist you with all my advice and my earnest
wishes, that it may obtain a return."
This letter was another of those excruciating-
pleasures, that almost reduced Miss Milner to the
grave. Her appetite forsook her ; and she vainly
endeavoured for several nights to close her eyes.
She thought so much upon the prospect of accom-
plishing her hopes, that she could admit no other
idea ; not even invent one probable excuse for leav-
ing Lady Luneham before the appointed time, which
was then at the distance of two months. She wrote
to Miss Woodley to beg her contrivance, to reproach
her for keeping the intelligence so long from her,
and to thank her for having revealed it in so kind a
manner at last. She begged also to be acquainted
how Mr. Dorriforth (for still she called him by that
name) spoke and thought of this sudden change in
his prospects.
Miss Woodley 's reply was a summons for her to
town upon some pretended business, which she
avoided explaining, but which entirely silenced Lady
Luneham's entreaties for her stay.
To her question concerning Lord Elmwood she
answered, " It is a subject on which he seldom
speaks : he appears just the same he ever did ; nor
could you by any part of his conduct conceive that
any such change had taken place." Miss Milner
exclaimed to herself, " I am glad he is not altered.
If his words, looks, or manners, were any thing
different from what they formerly were, I should
not like him so well." And just the reverse would
have been the case, had Miss Woodley sent her
word he was changed. The day for her leaving
Bath was fixed : she expected it with rapture ; but
before its arrival, she sunk under the care of expecta-
A SIMPLE STORY. 107
tion ; and when it came, was so much indisposed,
as to be obliged to defer her journey for a week.
At length she found herself in London in the
house of her guardian and that guardian no longer
bound to a single life, but enjoined to marry. He
appeared in her eyes, as in Miss Woodley's, the
same as ever ; or perhaps more endearing than ever,
as it was the first time she had beheld him with
hope. Mr. Sandford did not appear the same ; yet
he was in reality as surly and as disrespectful in his
behaviour to her as usual ; but she did not observe,
or she did not feel his morose temper as heretofore
he seemed amiable, mild, and gentle ; at least
this was the happy medium through which her self-
complacent mind began to see him : for good-hu-
mour, like the jaundice, makes every one of its own
complexion.
CHAPTER XX.
Lord Elmwood was preparing to go abroad, for the
purpose of receiving in form the dispensation from
his vows : it was, however, a subject he seemed
carefully to avoid speaking upon ; and when by any
accident he was obliged to mention it, it was without
any marks either of satisfaction or concern.
Miss Milner's pride began to be alarmed. While
he was Mr. Dorriforth, and confined to a single life,
his indifference to her charms was rather an honour-
able than a reproachful trait in his character; and in
reality, she admired him for the insensibility. But
on the eve of being at liberty, and on the eve of
making his choice, she was offended that choice was
not immediately fixed upon her. She had been ac-
108 A SIMPLE STORY.
customed to receive the devotion -of every man who
saw her; and not to obtain it of the man from whom,
of all others, she most wished it, was cruelly humi-
liating. She complained to Miss Woodley, who
advised her to have patience ; but that was one of
the virtues in which she was least practised.
Nevertheless, encouraged by her friend in the
commendable desire of gaining the affections of
him, who possessed all her own, she left no means
unattempted for the conquest ; but she began with
i.00 great a certainty of success, not to be sensible
ol the deepest mortification in the disappointment ;
nay, she now anticipated disappointment, as she had
before anticipated success ; by turns feeling the
keenest emotions from hope and from despair.
As these passions alternately governed her, she
was alternately in spirits or dejected ; in good or in
ill humour ; and the vicissitudes of her prospect at
length gave to her behaviour an air of caprice, which
not all her follies had till now produced. This was
not the way to secure the affections of Lord Elm-
wood : she knew it was not ; and before him she was
under some restriction. Sandford observed this,
and without reserve, added to the list of her other
failings hypocrisy. It was plain to see that Mr.
Sandford esteemed her less and less every day ; and
as he was the person who most influenced the opi-
nion of her guardian, he became, to her, very soon,
an object not merely of dislike, but of abhorrence.
These mutual sentiments were discoverable in
every word and action, while they were in each
other's company ; but still in his absence, Miss
Milner's good nature, and total freedom from malice,
never suffered her to utter a sentence injurious to
his interest. Sandford's charity did not extend thus
far ; and speaking of her with severity one evening
A SIMPLE STORY. 101)
while she was at the opera, " his meaning," as he
said, " but to caution her guardian against her
faults," Lord Elmwood replied,
" There is one fault, however, Mr. Sandford, I
cannot lay to her charge."
*' And what is that, my lord ?" cried Sandford,
eagerly. " What is that one fault which Miss Milner
has not?"
" I never," replied Lord Elmwood, " heard Miss
Milner, in your absence, utter a syllable to your
disadvantage."
" She dares not, my lord, because she is in fear
of you ; and she knows you would not suffer it."
" She then," answered his lordship, " pays me a
much higher compliment than you do ; for you
freely censure her, and yet imagine I will suffer
it."
" My lord," replied Sandford, " I am undeceived
now, and shall never take that liberty again."
As Lord Elmwood always treated Sandford with
the utmost respect, he began to fear he had been
deficient upon this occasion ; and the disposition
which had induced him to take his ward's part was
likely, in the end, to prove unfavourable to her : for
perceiving that Sandford was offended at what had
passed, as the only means of atonement, he began
himself to lament her volatile and captious propen-
sities ; in which lamentation, Sandford, now forget-
ting his affront, joined with the heartiest concur-
rence, adding,
" You, sir, having at present other cares to employ
your thoughts, ought to insist upon her marrying,
or retiring wholly into the country."
She returned home just as this conversation was
finished ; and Sandford, the moment she entered,
rang for his candle to retire. Miss Woodley, who
had beeu at the opera with Miss Milner, cried,
VOL. XXVIII. L
J10 A SIMPLE STORY.
" Bless me! Mr. Sandford, are you not well, you
are going to leave us so early?"
He replied, " No : I have a pain in my head."
Miss Milner, who never listened to complaints
without sympathy, rose immediately from the chair
she was just seated on, saying,
" I think I never heard you, Mr. Sandford, com-
plain of indisposition before. Will you accept of
my specific for the head-ach? Indeed it is a cer-
tain relief I'll fetch it instantly."
She went hastily out of the room, and returned
with a bottle, which, she assured him, " was a pre-
sent from Lady Luneham, and would certainly cure
him." And she pressed it upon him with such an
anxious earnestness, that, with all his churlishness,
he could not refuse taking it.
This was but a common-place civility, such as is
paid by one enemy to another every day ; but the
manner was the material part. The unaffected con-
cern, the attention, the good will she demonstrated
in this little incident, was that which made it re-
markable ; and which immediately took from Lord
Elmwood the displeasure to which he had been just
before provoked, or rather transformed it into a
degree of admiration. Even Sandford was not in-
sensible to her kindness, and in return, when he left
the room, " wished her a good night."
To her and Miss Woodley, who had not been
witnesses of the preceding conversation, what she
had done appeared of no merit : hut to the mind of
Lord Elmwood the merit was infinite ; and, upon
the departure of Sandford, he began to be unusually
cheerful. He first pleasantly reproached the ladies
for not offering him a place in their box at the
opera. " Would you have gone, my lord V asked
Miss Milner, highly delighted.
"Certainly," returned he, " had you invited me,"
A SIMPLE STORY. Ill
" Then from this day I give you a general invita-
tion: nor shall any other company be admitted but
those whom you approve."
" I am very much obliged to you," said he.
" And you," continued she, " who have been ac-
customed only to church music, will be more than
any one enchanted with hearing the softer music of
love."
" What ravishing pleasures you are preparing for
me!" returned he. " I know not whether my weak
senses will be able to support them."
She had her eyes upon him when he spoke this,
and she discovered in his, that were fixed upon her,
a sensibility unexpected a kind of fascination which
enticed her to look on, while her eye-lids fell in-
voluntarily before its mighty force, and a thousand
blushes crowded over her face. He was struck with
these sudden signals, hastily recalled his former
countenance, and stopped the conversation.
Miss Woodley, who had been a silent observer
for some time, now thought a word or two from
her would be acceptable rather than troublesome.
" And pray, my lord," said she, " when do you
go to France?"
" To Italy, you mean : I shall not go at all," said
he. " My superiors are very indulgent, for they
dispense with all my duties. I ought, and I meant,
to have gone abroad ; but as a variety of concerns
require my presence in England, every necessary
ceremony has taken place here."
" Then your lordship is no longer in orders?" said
Miss Woodley.
" No : they have been resigned these five days."
" My lord, I give you joy," said Miss Milner.
He thanked her, but added, with a sigh, " If I
have given up content in search of joy, I shall per-
1.2
112 A SIMPLE STORY.
haps be a loser by the venture." Soon after this,
he wished them a good night, and retired.
Happy as Miss Milner found herself in his com-
pany, she saw him leave the room with infinite satis-
faction, because her heart was impatient to give a
loose to its hopes on the bosom of Miss Woodley.
She bade Mrs. Horton immediately good night ;
and, in her friend's apartment, gave way to all the
language of passion, warmed with the confidence of
meeting its return. She described the sentiments
she had read in Lord Elmwood's looks; and though
Miss Woodley had beheld them too, Miss Milner's
fancy heightened the expression of every glance,
till her construction became, by degrees, so ex-
tremely favourable to her own wishes, that had not
her friend been likewise present, and known in what
measure to estimate those sypmtoms, she must in-
fallibly have thought, by the joy to which they
gave birth, that he had openly avowed a passion for
her.
Miss Woodley, of course, thought it her duty to
allay these ecstasies, and represented to her, she
might be deceived in her hopes ; or, even supposing
his wishes inclined towards her, there were yet great
obstacles between them. " Would not Sandford,
who directed his every thought and purpose, be
consulted upon this important one ? And if he was,
upon what but the most romantic affection on the
part of Lord Elmwood, had Miss Milner to depend?
And his lordship was not a man to be suspected of
submitting to the excess of any passion." Thus
did Miss Woodley argue, lest her friend should be
misled by her hopes ; yet, in her own mind, she
scarcely harboured a doubt that any thing would
occur to thwart them. The succeeding circum-
stance proved she was mistaken.
A SIMPLE STORY. 113
Another gentleman of family and fortune made
overtures to Miss Milner : and her guardian, so far
from having his thoughts inclined towards her on his
own account, pleaded this lovers cause even with
more zeal than he had pleaded for Sir Edward and
Lord Frederick ; thus at once destroying all those
plans of happiness which poor Miss Milner had
formed.
In consequence, her melancholy disposition of
mind was now predominant : she confined herself
at home, and, by her own express order, was denied
to all her visitors. Whether this arose from pure
melancholy, or the still lingering hope of making
her conquest, by that sedateness of manners which
she knew her guardian admired, she herself perhaps
did not perfectly know. Be that as it may, Lord
Elmwood could not but observe this change, and
one morning thought fit to mention and to ap-
plaud it.
Miss Woodley and she were at work together
when he came into the room ; and after sitting
several minutes, and talking upon indifferent sub-
jects, to which his ward replied with a dejection in
her voice and manner, he said,
" Perhaps I am wrong, Miss Milner, but I have
observed that you are lately more thoughtful than
usual."
'She blushed, as she always did when the subject
was herself. He continued : " Your health appears
perfectly restored, and yet I have observed you take
no delight in your former amusements."
" Are you sorry for that, my lord ?"
" No, I am extremely glad ; and I was going to
congratulate you upon the change. But give me
leave to inquire, to what fortunate accident we may
attribute this alteration ? "
" Your lordship then thinks all my commendable
L 3
114 A SIMPLE STORY.
deeds arise from accident, and that I have no virtues
of my own."
" Pardon me, I think you have many." This he
spoke emphatically, and her blushes increased.
He resumed : " How can I doubt of a lady's
virtues, when her countenance gives me such evident
proofs of them ? Believe me, Miss Milner, that in
the midst of your gayest follies, while you thus con-
tinue to blush, I shall reverence your internal sen-
sations."
" Oh, my lord ! did you know some of them, I
am afraid you would think them unpardonable."
This was so much to the purpose, that Miss
Woodley found herself alarmed, but without rea-
son : Miss Milner loved too sincerely, to reveal it to
the object. He. answered,
" And did you know some of mine, you might
think them equally unpardonable."
She turned pale, and could no longer guide her
needle. In the fond transport of her heart she
imagined that his love for her was among the sen-
sations to which he alluded. She was too much
embarrassed to reply, and he continued
" We have all much to pardon in one another; and
I know not whether the officious person who forces,
even his good advice, is not as blameable as the
obstinate one who will not listen to it. And now,
having made a preface to excuse you, should you
once more refuse mine, I shall venture to give it."
" My lord, I have never yet refused to follow
your advice, but where my own peace of mind was
so nearly concerned as to have made me culpable,
had I complied."
" Well, madam, I submit to your past deter-
minations, and shall never again oppose your in-
clination to remain single."
This sentence, as it excluded the design of soli-
A SIMPLE STORY. 115
citing for himself, gave her ihe utmost pain ; and
her eye glanced at him, full of reproach. He did
not observe it, but went on :
" While you continue unmarried, it seems to have
been your father's intention that you should con-
tinue under my immediate care ; but as I mean for
the future to reside chiefly in the country, answer
me candidly, do you think you could be happy
there, for at least three parts of the year?"
After a short hesitation, she replied, " I have
no objection."
" I am glad to hear it," he returned eagerly; " for
it is my sincere desire to have you with me : your
welfare is dear to me as my own ; and were we
apart, continual apprehensions would prey upon my
mind."
Tiie tear started in her eye, at the earnestness
that accompanied these words : he saw it ; and to
soften her still more with the sense of his esteem
for her, he increased his earnestness while he said,
" If you will take the resolution to quit London,
for the length of time I mention, there shall be no
means omitted to make the country all you can
wish. I shall insist upon Miss VVoodley's company
for both our sakes ; and it will not only be my study
to form such a society as you may approve, but I
am certain it will be likewise the study of Lady
Ehnwood "
lie was going on ; but, as if a poniard had thrust
her to the heart, she writhed under this unexpected
stroke.
lie saw her countenance change he looked at
her stedfastly.
It was not a common change from joy to sorrow,
from content to uneasiness, which Miss Milncr dis-
covered she felt, and she expressed anguish.
Ird Elruwood was alarmed and shocked. She
116 A SIMPLE STOKY.
did not weep; but she called Miss Woodier to
come to her, with a voice that indicated a degree
of agony.
" My lord," cried Miss Woodley, seeing- his
consternation, and trembling lest he should guess
the secret ; " my lord, Miss Milner has again de-
ceived you : you must not take her from London
it is that, and that alone, which is the cause of her
uneasiness."
He seemed more amazed still, and still more
shocked at her duplicity than at her torture.
Good Heaven!" exclaimed he, " how am 1 to
accomplish her wishes? What am I to do ? How
can I judge, if she will not confide in me, but thus
for ever deceive me ? "
She leaned, pale as death, on the shoulder of Miss
Woodley, her eye fixed with apparent insensibility
to all that was said, while he continued,
" Heaven is my witness, if I knew if I could
conceive the means how to make her happy, I would
sacrifice my own happiness to hers."
" My lord," said Miss Woodley, with a smile,
<f perhaps I may call upon you hereafter to fulfil
your word."
He was totally ignorant what she meant ; nor had
he leisure, from the confusion of his thoughts, to
sreflect upon her meaning : he nevertheless replied,
with warmth, " Do ; you shall find I'll perform it.
Do ; I will faithfully perform it."
Though Miss Milner was conscious this declara-
tion could not, in delicacy, be ever adduced against
him : yet the fervent and solemn manner in which
he made it, cheered her spirits ; and as persons
enjoy the reflection of having in their possession
some valuable gem, though they are determined
never to use it, so she upon this promise was com-
forted and grew better. She now lifted up her
A SIMPLE STORY. 117
head, and leaned it on her hand, as she sat by the
side of a table : still she did not speak, but seemed
overcome with sorrow. As her situation became,
however, less alarming, her guardian's pity and
affright began to take the colour of resentment ;
and though he did not say so, he was, and looked,
highly offended.
At this juncture Mr. Sandford entered. On
beholding the present party, it required not his sa-
gacity to see, at the first view, that they were all
uneasy ; but instead of the sympathy this might have
excited in some dispositions, Mr. Sandford, after
casting a look at each of them, appeared in high
spirits.
" You seem unhappy, my lord," said he, with a
smile.
" You do not, Mr. Sandford," Lord Elmwood
replied.
" No, my lord ; nor would I, were I in your situa-
tion. What should make a man of sense out of
temper but a worthy object!" and he looked at
Miss M ilner.
" There are no objects unworthy our care," re-
plied Lord Elmwood.
" But there are objects on whom all care is fruit-
less, your lordship will allow."
" I never yet despaired of any one, Mr. Sand-
ford."
" And yet there are persons of whom it is pre-
sumption to entertain any hopes." And he looked
again at Miss M ilner.
" Does your head ach, Miss Milner?" asked her
friend, seeing her hold it with her hand.
" Very much," returned she.
" Mr. Sandford," said Miss Woodley, " did you
use all those drops Miss Milner gave you for a pain
in the head ? "
118 A SIMPLE STORY.
" Yes," answered he, " I did." But the ques-
tion at that moment somewhat emharrassed him.
" And I hope you found benefit from them," said
Miss Milner, with great kindness, as she rose from
her seat, and walked slowly out of the room.
Though Miss Woodley followed her, so that Mr.
Sandford was left alone with Lord Elmwood, and
might have continued his unkind insinuations with-
out one restraint, yet his lips were closed for the
present. He looked down on the carpet twitched
himself upon his chair and began to talk of the
weather.
CHAPTER XXI.
When the first transports of despair were past, Miss
Milner suffered herself to be once more in hope.
She found there were no other means to support her
life ; and, to her comfort, her friend was much less
severe on the present occasion than she had ex-
pected. No engagement between mortals was, in
Miss Woodley's opinion, binding like that entered
into with Heaven ; and whatever vows Lord Elm-
wood had possibly made to another, she justly sup-
posed that no woman's love for him equalled Miss
Milner's. It was prior to all others, that established
her claim, at least, to contend for success ; and, in a
contention, what rival would not fall before her?
It was not difficult to guess who this rival was ; or
if they were a little time in suspense, Miss Woodley
soon arrived at the certainty, by inquiring of Mr.
Sandford ; who, unsuspecting why she asked, readily
informed her that the intended Lady Elmwood was
no other than Miss Fenton, and that the marriage
would be solemnized as soon as the mourning for
A SIMPLE STORY. 119
the late Lord Elmwood was over. This last intelli-
gence made Miss Woodley shudder : she repeated
it, however, to Miss Milner, word for word.
"Happy, happy woman!" exclaimed Miss Mil-
ner of Miss Fenton : " she has received the first
fond impulse of his heart, and has had the transcend-
ent happiness of teaching him to love ! "
" By no means," returned Miss Woodley, finding
no other suggestion likely to comfort her ; " do not
suppose that his marriage is the result of love : it is-
no more than a duty, a necessary arrangement; and
this you may plainly see by the wife on whom he
has fixed. Miss Fenton was thought a proper match
for his cousin, and that same propriety has trans-
ferred her to him."
It was easy to convince Miss Milner that all
which her friend said was truth, for she wished it
so. " And, oh ! " she exclaimed, " could I but
stimulate passion, against the cold influence of pro-
priety ; do you think, my dear Miss Woodley"
and she looked with such begging eyes, if was im-
possible not to answer as she wished " do you
think it would be unjust to Miss Fenton, were I to
inspire her appointed husband with a passion which
she may not have inspired, and which I believe she
cannot feel?"
Miss Woodley paused a minute, and then answer-
ed, " No:" but there was a hesitation in her
manner of delivery : she did say, " No ; " but she
looked as if she was afraid she ought to have said
" Yes." Miss Milner, however, did not give her
time to recal the word, or to alter its meaning by
adding others, but ran on eagerly, and declared,
" As that was her opinion, she would abide by it,
and do all she could to supplant her rival." In
order, nevertheless, to justify this determination,
and satisfy the conscience of Miss Woodley, they
120 A SIMPLE STORY.
both concluded that Miss Teuton's heart was not
engaged in the intended marriage, and, conse-
quently, that she was indifferent whether it ever
took place or not.
Since the death of the late earl, she lad not been
in town; nor had the present earl been near the
place where she resided, since the week in which
her lover died : of course, nothing similar to love
could have been declared at so early a period ; and
if it had been made known at a later, it must only
have been by letter, or by the deputation of Mr.
Sandford, who they knew had been once in the
country to visit her ; but how little he was qualified
to enforce a tender passion was a comfortable re-
flection.
Revived by these conjectures, of which some
were true, and others false ; the very next day a
gloom overspread their bright prospects, on Mr.
Sandford's saying, as he entered the breakfast-room,
" Miss Fenton, ladies, desired me to present her
compliments."
" Is she in town V asked Mrs. Horton.
" She came yesterday morning," returned Sand-
ford, " and is at her brother's, in Ormond-street :
my lord and 1 supped there last night, and that
made us so late home."
Lord Elmwood entered soon after, and bowing to
his ward, confirmed what had been said, by telling
her, that " Miss Fenton had charged him with her
kindest respects."
" How does poor Miss Fenton look ? " Mrs.
Horton asked Lord Elmwood.
To which question Sandford replied, " Beautiful
she looks beautifully."
" She has got over her uneasiness, I suppose
then 1 " said Mrs. Horton, not dreaming that she
was asking the question before her new lover.
A SIMPLE STORY. 121
" Uneasy !" replied Sandford : " uneasy at any
trial this world can send ? That would be highly un-
worthy of her."
" But sometimes women do fret at such things,"
replied Mrs. Horton, innocently.
Lord Elmwood asked Miss Milner, If she meant
to ride, this delightful day.
While she was hesitating,
" There are different kinds of women," said
Sandford, directing his discourse to Mrs. Horton :
'* there is as much difference between some women,
as between good and evil spirits."
Lord Elmwood asked Miss Milner again, If she
took an airing.
She replied, " No."
" And beauty," continued Sandford, " when en-
dowed upon spirits that are evil, is a mark of their
greater, their more extreme wickedness. Lucifer
was the most beautiful of all the angels in para-
dise."
" How do you know T said Miss Milner.
" But the beauty of Lucifer" (continued Sand-
ford, in perfect neglect and contempt of her
question,) " was an aggravation of his guilt ; be-
cause it shewed a double share of ingratitude to the
Divine Creator of that beauty."
" Now you talk of angels," said Miss Milner, " I
wish I had wings ; and I should like to fly through
the park this morning."
" You would be taken for an angel in good ear-
nest," said Lord Elmwood.
Sandford was angry at this little compliment, and
cried, " I should think the serpent's skin would be
much more characteristic."
' My lord," cried she, " does not Mr. Sandford
use me ill?" Vext with other things, she felt her-
vol. xxvm. M
1*22 A SIMPLE STORY.
self extremely hurt at this, and made the appeal
almost in tears.
" Indeed, I think he does." And he looked at
Sandtbrd as if he was displeased.
This was a triumph so agreeable to her, that she
immediately pardoned the. offence ; but the offender
did not so easily pardon her.
" Good morning, ladies," said Lord Elmwood,
rising to go away.
" My lord," said Miss Woodley, " you promised
Miss Milner to accompany her one evening to the
opera : this is opera night."
" Will you go, my lord V asked Miss Milner, in
a voice so soft, that he seemed as if he wished, but
could not resist it.
" I am to dine at Mr. Fenton's to-day," he re-
plied ; " and if he and his sister will go, and you
will allow them part of your box, I will promise to
come."
This was a condition by no means acceptable to
her ; but as she felt a desire to see him in company
with his intended bride, (for she fancied she could
perceive his secret sentiments, could she once See
them together,) she answered not ungraciously,
" Yes, my compliments to Mr. and Miss Fenton, and
I hope they will favour me with their company."
" Then, madam, if they come, you may expect
me else not." He bowed, and left the room.
All the day was passed in anxious expectation by
Miss Milner, what would be the event of the even-
ing ; for upon her penetration that evening all her
future prospects she thought depended. If she saw
by his looks, by his words, or assiduities, that he
loved Miss Fenton, she flattered herself she would
never think of him again with hope : but if she ob-
served him treat her with inattention or indifference,
A SIMPLE STORY. 123
she would cherish, from that moment, the fondest
expectations. Against that short evening her toilet
was consulted the whole day : the alternate hope
and fear which fluttered in her heart, gave a more
than usual brilliancy to her eyes, and more than
usual bloom to her complexion. But vain was her
beauty ; vain all her care to decorate that beauty ;
vain her many looks to her box-door in hopes to see
it open Lord Elmwood never came.
The music was discord ; every thing she saw was
distasteful : in a word, she was miserable.
She longed impatiently for the curtain to drop,
because she was uneasy where she was : yet she
asked herself, " Shall I be less unhappy at home ?
Yes; at home I shall see Lord Elmwood, and that
will be happiness. But he will behold me with neg-
lect, and that will be misery ! Ungrateful man ! I
will no longer think of him." Yet could she have
thought of him, without joining in the same idea
Miss Fenton, her anguish had been supportable ;
but while she painted them as lovers, the tortures of
the rack are not in many degrees more painful than
those which she endured.
There are but few persons who ever felt the real
passion of jealousy, because few have felt the real
passion of love ; but with those who have experi-
enced them both, jealousy has not only affected
the mind, but every fibre of their frame ; and Miss
Milner's every limb felt agonizing torment, when
Miss Fenton, courted and beloved by Lord Elmwood,
was present to her imagination.
The moment the opera was finished, she flew
hastily down stairs, as if to fly from the sufferings
she experienced. She did not go into the coffee-
room, though repeatedly urged by Miss Woodley,
but waited at the door till her carriage drew up.
Piqued heart-broken full of resentment against
M 2
124 A SIMPLE STORY.
the object of her uneasiness, and inattentive to all
that passed, as she stood a hand gently touched her
own ; and the most humble and insinuating voice said,
" Will you permit me to lead you to your carriage ?"
She was awakened from her reverie, and found Lord
Frederick Lawnley by her side. Her heart, just
then melting with tendernss to another, was per-
haps more accessible than heretofore ; or, bursting
with resentment, thought this the moment to reta-
liate. Whatever passion reigned that instant, it was
favourable to the desires of Lord Frederick, and she
looked as if she was glad to see him. He beheld this
with the rapture and the humility of a lover : and
though she did not feel the least particle of love in
return, she felt gratitude in proportion to the insen-
sibility with which she had been treated by her
guardian ; and Lord Frederick's supposition was not
very erroneous, if he mistook this gratitude for a
latent spark of affection. The mistake; however,
did not force from him his respect : he handed her
to her carriage, bowed low, and disappeared. Miss
Woodley wished to divert her thoughts from the
object which could only make her wretched, and as
they rode home, by many encomiums upon Lord
Frederick, endeavoured to incite her to a regard for
him : Miss Milner was displeased at the attempt,
and exclaimed,
" What ! love a rake, a man of professed gallantry!
Impossible. To me a common rake is as odious as
a common prostitute is to a man of the nicest
feelings. Where can be the joy, the pride of
inspiring a passion which fifty others can equally
inspire ?"
" Strange," cried Miss Woodley, " that you, who
possess so many follies incident to your sex, should,
in the disposal of your heart, have sentiments so
contrary to women in general."
A SIMPLE STORY. 125
"My dear Miss Woodley," returned she, "put
in competition the languid addresses of a libertine,
with the animated affection of a sober man, and
judge which has the dominion. Oh ! in my calendar
of love, a solemn lord chief justice, or a devout
archbishop, ranks before a licentious king."
Miss Woodley smiled at an opinion which she
knew half her sex would ridicule ; but by the air of
sincerity with which it was delivered, she was con-
vinced her recent behaviour to Lord Frederick was
but the mere effect of chance.
Lord Elmwood's carriage drove to his door just
at the time hers did. Mr. Sandford was with him,
and they were both come from passing the evening
at Mr. Fenton's.
" So, my lord," said Miss Woodley, as soon as
they met in the drawing-room, " you did not come
to us?"
" No," answered he, " I was sorry ; but I hope
you did not expect me."
" Not expect you, my lord ?" cried Miss Milner.
" Did not you say that you would come ?"
" If I had, I certainly should have come," return-
ed he, " but I only said so conditionally."
" That I am a witness to," cried Sandford ; " for
I was present at the time, and he said it should de-
pend upon Miss Fenton."
" And she, with her gloomy disposition," said
Miss Milner, " chose to sit at home."
" Gloomy disposition!" repeated Sandford : "she
has a great share of sprightliness : and I think I
never saw her in better spirits than she was this
evening, my lord."
Lord Elmwood did not speak.
" Bless me, Mr. Sandford," cried Miss Milner,
" I meant no reflection upon Miss Fenton's dispo
M 3
126 A SIMPLE STORY.
sition ; I only meant to censure her taste for
staying at home."
" I think," replied Sandford, " a much heavier
censure should be passed upon those who prefer
rambling abroad."
" But I hope, ladies, my not coming," said Lord
Elmwood, " was no inconvenience to you ; for vou
had still, I see, a gentleman with you."
" Oh ! yes, two gentlemen :" answered the son
of Lady Evans, a youth from school, whom Miss
Milner had taken along with her.
" What two?" asked Lord Elmwood.
Neither Miss Milner nor Miss Woodley answered.
" You know, madam," said young Evans, " that,
handsome gentleman who handed you into your car-
riage, and you called my lord."
" Oh ! he means Lord Frederick Lawnley :" said
Miss Milner carelessly, but a blush of shame spread
over her face.
" And did he hand you into your coach V asked
Lord Elmwood earnestly.
" By mere accident, my lord," Miss Woodley re-
plied, " for the crowd was so great "
" I think, my lord," said Sandford, " it was very
lucky that you were not there."
" Had Lord Elmwood been with us, we should
not have had occasion for the assistance of any
other," said Miss Milner.
" Lord Elmwood has been with you, madam,"
returned Sandford, " very frequently, and yet "
" Mr. Sandford," said Lord Elmwood, " inter-
rupting him, " it is near bed-time: your conversation
keeps the ladies from retiring."
" Your lordship's does not," said Miss Milner,
"for you say nothing."
" Because, madam, I am afraid to offend."
A SIMPLE STORY. 127
" But do not you also hope to please ? And with-
out risking the one, it is impossible to arrive at the
other."
" 1 think, at present, the risk would be too ha-
zardous ; and so I wish you a good night." And he
went out of the room somewhat abruptly.
" Lord Elmwood," said Miss Miluer, " is verv
grave : he does not look like a man who has been
passing the evening with the woman he loves."
" Perhaps he is melancholy at parting from her,"
said Miss Woodley.
" More likely offended," said Sandford, " at the
manner in which that lady has spoken of her."
" Who, I ? I protest I said nothing "
" Nothing ! Did not you say that she was gloomy?"
" Nothing but what I thought, I was going to
add, Mr. Sandford."
" When you think unjustly, you should not ex-
press your thoughts."
" Then, perhaps, I should never speak."
" And it were better you did not, if what you say
is to give pain. Do you know, madam, that my
lord is going to be married to Miss Fenton ?"
" Yes," answered Miss Milner.
" Do you know that he loves her? "
" No," answered Miss Milner.
" How ! do you suppose he does not ?"
" I suppose that he does ; yet I don't know it.''
"Then if you suppose that he does; how can you
have the imprudence to find fault with her in his
presence?"
" I did not. To call her gloomy was, I knew, to
commend her both to him and to you, who admire
such tempers."
" Whatever her temper is, every one admires it ;
and so far from its hem" what you have described,
128 A SIMPLE STORY.
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 : 1 have
known a jest give one person a distaste for another:
1 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 passions 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
tajk thus ? I believe in my heart you are only en-
A SIMILE STORY. 129
vious, 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 re-
ceived 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 circumstance 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. S indford : this is the kindest thing you
ever said to me. But I am vext to see that you are
sorry for having 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 1 done to be thus treated?"
Though Mr. Sandford was not a man easily in-
timidated, he was upon this occasion evidently
alarmed ; and stared about him with so violent an
expression of surprise, that it partook, in some de-
gree, of fear. Miss VVoodley 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 Sand-
ford as her rage had been ; and he did not perfectly
recover himself till he saw tears pouring down her
130 A SIMPLE STORY.
face. He then heaved a sigh of content that all
had thus ended ; hut in his heart resolved never to
forget the ridiculous affright into which he had heen
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 sup-
plicates " grace for the wicked," he took care to
mention Miss Milner's name with the most fervent
devotion.
CHAPTER XXII.
Of the many restless nights that Miss Milnerpassed,
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 re-
membrance 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 unbroken, 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.
A SIMPLE STORY. 131
Lord Elmwood laid down the newspaper to attend
to what she said.
" To me there is something very extraordinary
about her!" continued Mrs. Horton, rinding 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 one 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 ex-
tremely to blame, though I did not choose 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 assure you, my lord,
seriously, it was by mere accident she saw him yes-
terday 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 affection for him, 1 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 war-
ranted them. Has it not been, in this particular,
incoherent and unaccountable I "
132 A SIMPLE STORY.
" The behaviour of a person in love, no doubt,"
answered Miss Woodley.
" Don't 1 say so 1 " 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 assurance 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 per-
petually with her ; and for that reason, even 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 withhold them from me ; much less would
I take any unfair means to be informed. To ask
anymore questions of you, I believe, would be un-
fair. Yet I cannot but lament that I am not as well
instructed as you are. 1 wish to prove my friend-
ship to Miss Milner, but she will not suffer me ; and
every step that 1 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,
A SIMPLE STORY. 133
1 certainly know no occasion that would so justly
authorise it as the present. I am not only proper
from character, but from circumstances, 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."
" Oh ! my lord," cried Miss Woodley, with a
most forcible accent, " you are the last person on
earth she would pardon me for entrusting."
" Why so ?" said he warmly. " But that is the
way the person who is our friend we distrust :
where a common interest is concerned, we are
ashamed of drawing on a common danger afraid
of advice, though that advice is to preserve us.
Miss Woodley," said he changing his voice with
excess of earnestness, " do you not believe that I
would do any thing to make Miss Milner happy ? "
" Any thing in honour, my lord."
" She can desire nothing farther," he replied
in agitation. " Are her desires so unwarrantable,
that I cannot grant them ?"
Miss W'oodley agajn did not speak and he con-
tinued
" Great as my friendship is, there are certainly
bounds to it bounds that shall save her in spite of
herself:" and he raised his voice.
" In the disposal of themselves," resumed he,
with a less vehement tone, " that great, that terrific
disposal in marriage, (at which 1 have always looked
with fear and dismay), there is no accounting for the
rashness of a woman's choice, or sometimes for the
depravity of her taste. But in such a case, Miss
Milner's election of a husband shall not direct mine.
If she does not know how to estimate her own
value, I do. Independent of her fortune, she has
VOL. XXVIII. N
134 AJJIMPLE STORY.
beauty to captivate the heart of any man ; and with
all her follies, she has a frankness in her manner, an
unaffected wisdom in her thoughts, a vivacity in her
conversation, and withal, a softness in her demean-
our, that might alone engage the affections of a man
of the nicest sentiments, and the strongest under-
standing. I will not see all these qualities and
accomplishments debased. It is my office to protect
her from the consequences of a degrading choice,
and I will execute the obligation."
" My lord, Miss Milner's taste is not a depraved
one : it is but too refined."
" What can you mean by that, Miss Woodley ?
You talk mysteriously. Is she not afraid that I will
oppose her inclinations?"
" She is sure that you will, my lord."
" Then the person must be unworthy of her."
Miss Woodley rose from her seat she clasped
her hands every look and every gesture proved
her alternate resolution and irresolution to proceed
farther. Lord Elmwood's attention was arrested
before ; but now it was fixed to a degree of curiosity
and surprise, which her extraordinary manner could
only have excited.
" My lord," said she with a tremulous voice,
" promise me, declare to me, nay, swear to me, that
it shall ever remain a secret in your own breast, and
I will reveal to you on whom she has placed her
affections."
This preparation made Lord Elmwood tremble ;
and he ran over instantly in his mind all the per-
sons he could recollect, in order to arrive at the
knowledge by thought, quicker than by words. It
was in vain he tried ; and he once more turned his
inquiring eyes upon Miss Woodley. He saw her
silent and covered with confusion. Again he search-
ed his own thoughts ; nor ineffectually as before.
A SIMPLE STORY. 135
At the first glance, the object wag presented, and he
beheld himself.
The rapid emotion of varying passions, which
immediately darted over his features, informed Miss
Wood ley that her secret was discovered. She hid
her face, while the tears that fell down to her bosom,
confirmed the truth of his mind's suggestion, more
forcibly than oaths could have done. A short in-
terval of silence followed, during which she suffered
tortures for the manner in which he would next
address her. A few seconds gave her this reply :
" For God's sake, take care what you are doing :
you are destroying my prospects of futurity you
are making this world too dear to me."
Her drooping head was then lifted up, and she
caught the eye of Dorriforth ; she saw it beam
expectation, amazement, joy, ardour, and love.
Nay, there was a fire, a vehemence in the quick
fascinating rays it sent forth, she never before had
seen. It filled her with alarm : she wished him to
love Miss Milner, but to love her with moderation.
Miss Woodley was too little versed in the subject,
to know, this would have been not to love at all ; at
least, not to the extent of breaking through engage-
ments, and all the various obstacles that still militated
against their union.
Lord Elmwood was sensible of the embarrassment
his presence gave Miss Woodley, and understood
the reproaches which she seemed to vent upon her-
self in silence. To relieve her from both, he laid
his band with force upon his heart, and said, " Do
you believe me ?"
" I do, my lord," she answered, trembling.
" I will make no unjust use of what I know," he
replied with firmness.
" I believe you, my lord."
" But for what mv passions now dictate," con-
N2
136 A SIMPLE STORY.
tinued he, " I will not hereafter answer. They are
confused they are triumphant at present. I have
never yet, however, been vanquished by them ; and
even upon this occasion, my reason shall combat
them to the last and my reason shall fail me, before
I act dishonourably."
He was going to leave the room she followed
him, and cried, " But, my lord, how shall I see again
the unhappy object of my treachery V-
" See her," replied he, " as one to whom you
meant no injury, and to whom you have done
none."
" But she would account it an injury."
" We are not judges of what belongs to ourselves,"
he replied : " 1 am transported at the tidings you
have revealed ; and yet, perhaps, it had been better
if I had never heard them."
Miss Woodley was going to say something farther;
but, as if incapable of attending to her, he hastened
out of the room.
CHAPTER XXIII.
Miss Woodley stood for some time to consider
which way she was to go. The first person she met
would inquire why she had been weeping : and if
Miss Milner was to ask the question, in what words
could she tell, or in what manner deny the truth ?
To avoid her was her first caution, and she took
the only method : she had a hackney coach ordered,
rode several miles out of town, and returned to din-
ner with so little remains of her swollen eyes, that
complaining of the head-ach was a sufficient excuse
for them.
Miss Milner was enough recovered to be present
A SIMPLE STORY. 137
at dinner, though she hardly tasted a morsel. Lord
Elrawood did not dine at home, at which Miss
Woodley rejoiced, but at which Mr. Sandford ap-
peared highly disappointed. He asked the servants
several times, what my lord said when he went out ?
They replied, " Nothing more than that he should
not be at home to dinner." " I can't imagine where
he dines?" said Sandford. " Bless me, Mr. Sand-
ford, can't you guess?" cried Mrs. Horton, who
by this time was made acquainted with his intended
marriage. " He dines with MissFenton, to be sure."
" No," replied Sandford, " he is not there : I
came from thence just now, and they had not seen
him all day." Poor Miss Milner, on this, began to
eat a little; for where we hope for nothing, we
receive small indulgences with joy.
Notwithstanding the anxiety and trouble under
which Miss Woodley had laboured all the morning,
her heart for many weeks had not felt so light as it
did this day at dinner. The confidence that she
reposed in the promises of Lord Elmwood the firm
reliance she had upon his delicacy and his justice
the unabated kindness with which her friend received
her, while she knew that no one suspicious thought
had taken harbour in her bosom and the conscious
integrity of her own intentions, though she might
have been misled by her judgment, all comforted
her with the hope she had done nothing she ought
to wish recalled. But although she felt thus tran-
quil, in respect to what she had divulged, yet she
was a good deal disquieted with the dread of next
seeing Lord Elmwood.
Miss Milner, not having spirits to go abroad,
passed the evening at home. She read part of a
new opera, played upon her harp, mused, sighed,
occasionally talked with Miss Woodley, and so passed
the tedious hour* till near ten, when Mrs. Horton
N 3
138 A SIMPLE STORY.
asked Mr. Sandford to play a game at piquet, and on
his excusing himself, Miss Milner offered in his
stead, and was gladly accepted. They had just
begun to play when Lord Elmwood came into
the room. Miss Milner' s countenance immediately
brightened ; and though she was in a negligent
morning dress, and looked paler than usual, she did
not look less beautiful. Miss Wood ley was leaning
on the back of her chair to observe the game, and
Mr. Sand ford sat reading one of the fathers at the
other side of the fire-place. Lord Elmwood, as he
advanced to the table, bowed, not having seen the
ladies since the morning, nor Miss Milner that day:
they returned the salute, and he was going up to
Miss Milner (as if to inquire of her health), when
Mr. Sandford, laying down his book, said,
" My lord, where have you been all day?"
" I have been very busy," replied be, and walking
from the card-table, went up to him.
Miss Milner played one card for another,
" You have been at Mr. Fenton's this evening, I
suspose V said Sandford.
" No ; not at all to-day."
" How came that about, my lord?"
Miss Milner played the ace of diamonds, instead
of the king of hearts.
" I shall call to-morrow," answered Lord Elm-
wood ; and then walking with a very ceremonious
air up to Miss Milner, said, " he hoped she was
perfectly recovered."
Mrs. Horton begged her " to mind what she was
about."
She replied, "I am much better, sir."
He then returned to Sandford again ; but never,
during all this time, did his eye once encounter
Miss Woodley's ; and she, with equal care, avoided
his.
A SIMPLE STORY. 139
Some cold dishes were now brought up for
supper : Miss Milner lost her deal, and the game
ended.
As they were arranging themselves at the supper-
table, " Do, Miss Milner," said Mrs. Horton, "have
something warm for your supper ; a chicken boiled,
or something of that kind : you have eat nothing
to-day."
With feelings of humanity, and apparently no
other sensation but never did he feel his philan-
thropy so forcible Lord Elmwood said, " Let me
beg of you, Miss Milner, to have something pro-
vided for you."
The earnestness and emphasis with which these
few words were pronounced, were more flattering
than the finest turned compliment would have been:
her gratitude was expressed in blushes, and by as-
suring him she was now " so well as to sup on the
provisions before her." She spoke, however, and
had not made the trial ; for the moment she carried
a morsel to her lips, she laid it on her plate again,
and turned paler, from the vain endeavour to force
her appetite. Lord Elmwood had always been at-
tentive to her ; but now he watched her as he would
a child ; and when he saw by her struggles that she
could not eat, he took her plate from her, gave her
something else ; and all with a care and watchful-
ness in his looks, as if he had been a tender-hearted
boy, and she his darling bird, the loss of which would
embitter all the joy of his holidays.
This attention had something in it so tender, so
officious, and yet so sincere, that it brought the tears
into Miss Woodley's eyes, attracted the notice of
Mr. Sandford, and the observation of Mrs. Horton ;
while the heart of Miss Milner overflowed with a
gratitude, that gave place to no sentiment except her
love.
140 A SIMPLE STORY.
To relieve ihe anxiety which her guardian ex-
pressed, she endeavoured to appear cheerful; and
that anxiety, at length, really made her so. He now
pressed her to take one glass of wine with such soli-
citude, that he seemed to say a thousand things
besides. Sandford still made his observations, and
being unused to conceal his thoughts before the
present company, he said bluntly,
" Miss Fenton was indisposed the other night, my
lord, and you did not seem half thus anxious about
her."
Had Sandford laid all Lord Elmwood's estate at
Miss Milner's feet, or presented her with that eternal
bloom which adorns the face of a goddess, he would
have done less to endear himself to her, than by this
one sentence : she looked at him with a most benign
countenance, and felt affliction that she had ever
offended him.
" Miss Fenton," Lord Elmwood replied, " has a
brother with her : her health and happiness are in
his care Miss Milner's are in mine.
" Mr. Sandford," said Miss Milner, " I am afraid
that I behaved uncivilly to you last night : will
you accept of an atonement?"
" No, madam," returned he : " I accept no ex-
piation without amendment."
" Well, then," said she smiling, " suppose I pro-
mise never to offend you again what then?"
" Why then, you'll break your promise."
" Do not promise him," said Lord Elmwood, " for
he means to provoke you to it."
In the like conversation the evening passed, and
Miss Milner retired to rest in far better spirits than
her morning's prospect had given her the least pre-
tence to hope. Miss Woodley, too, had cause to be
well pleased ; but her pleasure was in great measure
eclipsed by the reflection, that there was such a
A SIMPLE STORY. 14L
person as Miss Fen ton. She wished she had been
equally acquainted with hers as with Miss Milner's
heart, and she would then have acted without in-
justice to either; but Miss Fenton had of late shunned
their society, and even in their company was of a
temper too reserved ever to discover her mind.
Miss Woodley was obliged, therefore, to act to the
best of her own judgment only, and leave all events
to Providence.
CHAPTER XXIV.
Within a few weeks, in the house of Lord Elmwood,
every thing, and every person, wore a new face.
He was the professed lover of Miss Milner she
the happiest of human beings ; Miss Woodley par-
taking in the joy Mr. Sandford lamenting, with the
deepest concern, that Miss Fenton had been sup-
planted : and what added poignantly to his concern
was, that she had been supplanted by Miss Milner.
Though a churchman, he bore his disappointment
with the impatience of one of the laity : he could
hardly speak to Lord Elmwood ; he would not look
at Miss Milner, and was displeased with every one.
It was his intention, when he first became ac-
quainted with Lord Elmwood's resolution, to quit
his house ; and as the earl had, with the utmost
degree of inflexibility, resisted all his good counse ?
upon this subject, he resolved, in quitting him, never
to be his adviser again. But, in preparing to leave
his friend, his pupil, his patron, and yet him, who,
upon most occasions, implicitly obeyed his will, the
spiritual got the better of the temporal man, and he
determined to stay, lest in totally abandoning him
to the pursuit of his own passions, he should make
142 A SIMPLE STORY.
his punishment even greater than his offence. " My
lord," said he, " on the stormy sea, upon which you
are embarked, though you will not shun the rocks
that your faithful pilot would point out, he will,
nevertheless, sail in your company, and lament over
your watery grave. The more you slight my ad-
vice, the more you require it ; so that, until you
command me to leave your house (as I suppose you
will soon do, to oblige your lady), I will continue
along with you."
Lord Elmwood liked him sincerely, and was glad
that he took this resolution ; yet as soon as his rea-
son and affections had once told him that he ought
to break with Miss Fenton, and marry his ward, he
became so decidedly of this opinion, that Sandford's
never had the most trivial weight : nor would he
even flatter the supposed authority he possessed over
him, by urging him to remain in his house a single
day, contrary to his inclinations. Sandford observed,
with grief, this firmness ; but finding it vain to con-
tend, submitted not, however, with a good grace.
Amidst all the persons affected by this change in
Lord Elmwood's marriage-designs, Miss Fenton
was, perhaps, affected the least : she would have
been content to have married she was content to
live single. Mr. Sandford had been the first who
made overtures to her on the part of Lord Elmwood,
and was the first sent to ask her to dispense with
the obligation. She received both of these proposals
with the same insipid smile of approbation, and the
same cold indifference at the heart.
It was a perfect knowledge of this disposition in
his intended wife, which had given to Lord Elm-
wood's thoughts on matrimony, the idea of dreary
winter : but the sensibility of Miss Milner had now
reversed that prospect into perpetual spring ; or the
dearer variety of spring, summer, and autumn.
A SIMPLE STORY. 143
tt was a knowledge also of this torpor in Miss
Fenton's nature from which he formed the purpose
of breaking with her; for Lord Elmwood still re-
tained enough of the sanctity of his former state to
have yielded up his own happiness, and even that of
his beloved ward, rather than have plunged one
heart into affliction by his perfidy. This, before he
offered his hand to Miss Milner, he was perfectly
convinced would not be the case : even Miss Fen-
ton herself assured him, that her thoughts were
more upon the joys of heaven than upon those of
earth; and as this circumstance would, she believed,
induce her to retire into a convent, she considered
it -a happy rather than an unhappy event. Her
brother, on whom her fortune devolved, if she took
this holy resolution, was exactly of her opinion.
Lost in the maze of happiness that surrounded
her, Miss Milner oftentimes asked her heart, and
her heart whispered like a flatterer, " Yes," Are
not my charms even more invincible than I ever
believed them to be ? Dorriforth, the grave, the
pious, the anchorite Dorriforth, by their force, is
animated to all the ardour of the most impassioned
lover while the proud priest, the austere guardian
is humbled, if I but frown, into the veriest slave of
love. She then asked, " Why did I not keep him
longer in suspense ? He could not have loved me
more, I believe : but my power over him might have
been greater still. I am the happiest of women in
the affection he has proved to me ; hut I wonder
whether it would exist under ill treatment ? If it
would not, he still does not love me as I wish to be
loved if it would, my triumph, my felicity, would
be enhanced." These thoughts were mere phan-
toms of the brain, and never, by system, put into
action : but, repeatedly indulged, they were prac-
tised by casual occurrences ; and the dear-bought
144 A SIMPLE STORY.
experiment of being loved in spite of her faults (a
glory proud women ever aspire to) was, at present,
the ambition of Miss Milner.
Unthinking woman ! she did not reflect, that to
the searching eye of Lord Elmwood, she had faults,
with her utmost care to conceal or overcome them,
sufficient to try all his love, and all his patience.
But what female is not fond of experiments ? To
which, how few there are that do not fall a sacrifice !
Perfectly secure in the affections of the man she
loved, her declining health no longer threatened
her ; her declining spirits returned as before ; and
the suspicions of her guardian being now changed
to the liberal confidence of a doating lover, she
again professed all her former folhes, all her fashion-
able levities, and indulged them with less restraint
than ever.
For a while, blinded by his passion, Lord Elmwood
encouraged and admired every new proof of her
restored happiness ; nor, till sufferance had tempted
her beyond her usual bounds, did he remonstrate.
But she, who, as his ward, had been ever gentle, and
(when he strenuously opposed) always obedient ;
became, as a mistress, sometimes haughty, and, to
opposition, always insolent. He was surprised, but
the novelty pleased him. And Miss Milner, whom
he tenderly loved, could put on no change, or ap-
pear in no new character that did not, for the time
she adopted it, seem to become her.
Among the many causes of complaint which she
gave him, want of reconomy in the disposal of her
income was one. Bills and drafts came upon him
without number, while the account, on her part, of
money expended, amounted chiefly to articles of
dress that she sometimes never wore, toys that were
out of fashion before they were paid for, and cha-
rities directed by the force of whim. Another com-
A SIMPLE STORY. J 45
plaint was, as usual, extreme late hours, and often
company that he did not approve.
She was charmed to see his love struggling with
his censure his politeness with his anxiety: and,
by the light, frivolous, or resentful manner in which
she treated his admonitions, she triumphed in show-
ing to Miss Woodley, and, more especially to Mr.
Sandford, how much she dared upon the strength of
his affections.
Every thing in preparation for their marriage,
which was to take place at Ehnwood House during
the summer months, she resolved for the short time
she had to remain in London, to let no occasion pass
of tasting all those pleasures that were not likely ever
to return ; hut which, though eager as she was in
their pursuit, she never placed in competition with
those she hoped would succeed those more sedate
and superior joys of domestic and conjugal happi-
ness. Often, merely to hasten on the tedious hours
that intervened, she varied and diverted them, with
the many recreations her intended husband could
not approve.
It so happened, and it was unfortunate it did, that
a law-suit concerning some possessions in the West
Indies, and other intricate affairs that came with his
title and estate, frequently kept Lord Elmwood from
his house part of the day ; sometimes the whole
evening ; and, when at home, would often closet him
for hours with his lawyers. But while he was thus
off his guard, Sandford never was so and had Miss
Milner been the dearest thing on earth to him, he
could not have watched her more vigilantly ; or had
she been the frailest thing on earth, he could not
have been more hard upon her, in all the accounts
of her conduct he gave to her guardian. Lord
Elmwood knew, on the other hand, that Sandford's
failing was to- think ill of Miss Milner: he pitied
VOL. XXVIII. o
14G A SIiMPLE STORY.
him for it, and he pitied her for it ; and in all the
aggravation which his representations gave to her
real follies, affection for them both, in the heart of
Dorriforth, stood between accusation and every
other unfavourable impression.
But facts are glaring ; and he, at length, beheld
those faults in their true colours, though previously
pointed out by the prejudice of Mr. Sandford.
As soon as Sandford perceived his friend's con-
futation and uneasiness, " There, my lord !" cried
he, exultingly, " did I not always say the marriage
was an improper one? But you would not be ruled
you would not see."
" Can you blame me for not seeing," replied his
lordship, " when you were blind? Had you been
dispassionate, had you seen Miss Milner's virtues as
well as her faults, I should have believed, and been
guided by you : but you saw her failings only, and
therein have been equally deceived with me, who
have only beheld her perfections."
" My observations, however, my lord, would have
been of most use to you ; for I have seen what to
avoid."
" But mine have been the most gratifying," re-
plied he ; " for I have seen what 1 must always
love."
Sandford sighed and lifted up his hands.
" Mr. Sandford," resumed Lord Elmwood, with
a voice and manner such as were usual to him when
not all the power of Sandford, or of any other, could
change his fixed determination " Mr. Sandford, my
eyes are now open to every failing, as well as to every
accomplishment ; to every vice, as well as to every
virtue, of Miss Milner ; nor will I suffer myself to be
again prepossessed in her favour, by your prejudice
against her for I believe it was compassion at your
unkind treatment that first gained her my heart."
A SIMPLE STORY. 147
" I, my lord V cried Sandford : " do not load me
with the burthen with the mighty burthen of your
love for her."
" Do not interrupt me. Whatever your meaning
has been, the effect of it is what I have described.
Now, I will no longer," continued he, " have an
enemy, such as you have been, to heighten her
charms, which are too transcendent in their native
state. I will hear no more complaints against her,
but I will watch her closely myself; and if I find
her mind and heart (such as my suspicions have of
late whispered) too frivolous for that substantial
happiness I look for with an object so beloved, de-
pend upon my word the marriage shall yet be
broken off."
" I depend upon your word, it will then," replied
Sandford eagerly.
" You are unjust, sir, in saying so before the
trial," replied Lord Elmwood ; " and your injustice
shall make me more cautious, lest I follow your
example/'
" But, my lord "
" My mind is made up, Mr. Sandford," returned
he, interrupting him. " I am no longer engaged to
Miss Milner than she shall deserve I should be ;
but, in my strict observations upon her conduct, I
will take care not to wrong her as you have done."
" My lord, call my observations wrong, when you
have reflected upon them as a man, and not as a
lover : divest yourself of your passion, and meet me
upon equal ground."
" I will meet no one 1 will consult no one : my
own judgment shall be the judge, and in a few
months shall marry me to her, or banish me from
her for ever."
There was something in these last words, in the
tone and firmness with which they were delivered,
that the heart of Sandford rested upon with con-
148 A SIMPLE STORY.
tent: they bore the symptoms of a menace that
would be executed ; and he parted from his patron
with congratulations upon his wisdom, and with
o-ivin"; him the warmest assurances of his firm reli-
ance on his word.
Lord Elmwood, having come to this resolution,
was more composed than he had been for several
days before ; while the horror of domestic wrangles
a family without subordination a house without
oeconomy in a word, a wife without discretion, had
been perpetually present to his mind.
Mr. Sandford, although he was a man of under-
standing, of learning, and a complete casuist, yet
all the faults he committed were entirely for
the want of knowing better. He constantly re-
proved faults in others, and he was most assuredly
too good a man not to have corrected and amended
his own, had they been known to him but they
were not. He had been for so long a time the
spiritual superior of all with whom he lived, had
been so busied with instructing others, that he had
not once recollected that himself wanted instruction:
and in such awe did his habitual severity keep all
about him, that although he had numerous friends,
not one told him of his failings; except just now
Lord Elmwood, but whom, in this instance, as a
man in love, he would not credit. Was there not
then some reason for him to suppose he had no
faults ? His enemies, indeed, hinted that he had ;
but enemies he never hearkened to : and thus, with
all his good sense, wanted the sense to follow the
rule, Believe what your enemies say of you, rather
than what is said by your friends. For could an
enemy, to whom he would have listened, have whis-
pered to Sandford as he left Lord Elmwood, " Cruel,
barbarous man ! you go away with your heart satis-
fied, nay, even elated, in the prospect that Miss
Milner's hopes, on which she alone exists those
A SIMPLE STORY. 149
hopes which keep her from the deepest affliction,
and cherish her with joy and gladness will all be
disappointed. You flatter yourself it is for the sake
of your friend, Lord Elmwood, that you rejoice, and
because he has escaped a peril. You wish him well ;
but there is another cause for your exultation, which
you will not seek to know : it is, that in his safety
shall dwell the punishment of his ward. For shame!
for shame ! Forgive her faults, as this of yours re-
quires to be forgiven."
Had any one said this to Sandford, whom he
would have credited, or had his own heart suggested
it, he was a man of that rectitude and conscien-
tiousness, that he would have returned immedi-
ately to Lord Elmwood, and have strengthened all
his favourable opinions of his intended wife ; but
having no such monitor, he walked on, highly con-
tented, and, meeting Miss Woodley, said, with an
air of triumph,
" Where's your friend ? Where's Lady Elm-
wood ?"
Miss Woodley smiled, and answered She was
gone with such and such ladies to an auction.
" But why give her that title already, Mr. Sandford?"
" Because," answered he, " I think she will never
have it."
" Bless me, Mr. Sandford," said Miss Woodley,
" you shock me !"
" I thought I should," replied he, " and there-
fore I told it you."
" For Heaven's sake, what has happened?"
" Nothing new her indiscretions only."
" I know she is imprudent," said Miss Woodley ;
" I can see that her conduct is often exceptionable
but then Lord Elmwood surely loves her, and
love will overlook agreatdeal."
o3
150 A SIMPLE STORY.
" He does love her but he lias understanding
and resolution. He loved his sister too, tenderly
loved her, and yet when he had taken the resolution,
and passed his word that he would never see her
again even upon her death-bed he would not re-
tract it no entreaties could prevail upon him.
And now, though he maintains, and 1 dare say loves,
her child, yet you remember, when you brought him
home, that he would not suffer him in his sight."
" Poor Miss Milner !" said Miss Woodley, in the
most pitying accents.
" Nay," said Sandford, " Lord Elmwood bas not
yet passed his word, that he will never see her
more he has only threatened to do it ; but I know
enough of him to know, that his threats are generally
the same as if thev were performed."
" You are very good," said Miss Woodley, " to
acquaint me of this in time 1 may now warn Miss
Milner of it, and she may observe more circumspec-
tion."
" By no means," cried Sandford, hastily " What
would you warn her for? It will do her no good.
Besides,'' added he, " I don't know whether Lord
Elmwood does not expect secrecy on my part ; and
if he does "
" But with all deference to your opinion," said
Miss Woodley (and with all deference did she
speak), "don't you think, Mr. Sandford, that secrecy
upon this occasion would be criminal ? For consider
the anguish that it may occasion to my friend ; and
if, by advising her, we can save her from " She
was proceeding.
" You may call it criminal, madam, not to inform
her of what I have hinted at," cried he; " but I
call a breach of confidence if it was divulged to me
in confidence "
A SIMPLE STORY. J5L
He was going to explain ; but Miss Milner enter-
ed, and put an end to the discourse. She had been
passing the whole morning at an auction, and had
laid out near two hundred pounds in different things
for which she had no one use, but bought them be-
cause they were said to be cheap. Among the rest
was a lot of books upon chemistry, and some Latin
authors.
" Why, madam," cried Sandford, looking over
the catalogue, where her purchases were marked by
a pencil, " do you know what you have done ? You
can't read a word of these books."
" Can't I, Mr. Sandford ? But 1 assure you that
you will be very much pleased with them, when you
see how elegantly they are bound."
" My dear," said Mrs. Horton, " why have you
bought china ( You and my Lord Elmwood have
more now than you have places to put them in."
" Very true, Mrs. Horton ; I forgot that : but,
then, you know, I can give these away."
Lord Elmwood was in the room at the conclusion
of this conversation : he shook his head and sighed.
" My lord," said she, " I have had a very agree-
able morning ; but I wished for you : if you had
been with me, I should have bought a great many
other things ; but I did not like to appear unreason-
able in your absence."
Sandford fixed his inquisitive eyes upon Lord
Elmwood, to observe his countenance : he smiled,
but appeared thoughtful.
" And oh! my lord, 1 have bought you a pre-
sent," said she.
" I do not wish for a present, Miss Milner."
" What ! not from me ? Very well."
" If you present me with yourself, it is all that I
ask."
Sandford moved upon his chair, as if he sat uneasy.
152 A SIMPLE STORY.
" Why, then, Miss Woodley," said Miss Milner,
" you shall have the present. But then it won't suit
you it is for a gentleman. I'll keep it and give it
to my Lord Frederick the first time I meet with
him. I saw him this morning, and he looked di-
vinely : I longed to speak to him."
Miss Woodley cast, by stealth, an eye of appre-
hension upon Lord Elmwood's face, and trembled
at seeing it flushed with resentment.
Sandford stared with both his eyes full upon him :
then drew himself upright on his chair, and took a
pinch of snuff upon the strength of the earl's un-
easiness.
A silence ensued.
After a short time " You all appear melan-
choly," said Miss Milner : " I wish 1 had not come
home yet."
Miss Woodley was in agony : she saw Lord Elm-
wood's extreme displeasure, and dreaded lest he
should express it by some words he could not recal,
or she could not forgive : therefore, whispering to
her she had something particular to say, she took
her out of the room.
The moment she was gone, Mr. Sandford rose
nimbly from his seat, rubbed his hands, walked
briskly across the room, then asked Lord Elmwood
in a cheerful tone, " whether he dined at home to-
day."
That which had given Sandford cheerfulness had
so depressed Lord Elmwood that he sat dejected
and silent. At length he answered in a faint voice,
" No ; I believe I shall not dine at home."
" W T here is your lordship going to dine?" asked
Mrs. Horton : "I thought we should have had your
company to-day : Miss Milner dines at home, I be-
lieve."
" I have not yet determined where I shall dine,"
A SIMPLE STORY. 153
replied he, taking no notice of the conclusion of her
speech.
" My lord, if you mean to go to the hotel, I'll go
with you, if you please," cried Sandford officiously.
" With all my heart, Sandford" and they both
went out together, before Miss Milner returned to
the apartment.
CHAPTER XXV.
Miss Woodley, for the first time, disobeyed the will
of Mr. Sandford ; and as soon as Miss Milner and
she were alone, repeated all he- had revealed to her ;
accompanying the recital with her usual testimonies
of sympathy and affection. But had the genius of
Sandford presided over this discovery, it could not
have influenced the mind of Miss Milner to receive
the intelligence with a temper more exactly the
opposite of that which it was the intention of the
informer to recommend. Instead of shuddering at
the menace Lord Elmwood had uttered, she said,
she " dared him to perform it." " He dares not,"
repeated she.
" Why dares not?" said Miss Woodley.
" Because he loves me too well because his own
happiness is too dear to him."
" I believe he loves you," replied Miss Woodley,
" and yet there is a doubt if "
" There shall be no longer a doubt," cried Miss
Milner: " I'll put him to the proof/'
" For shame, my dear! you talk inconsiderately:
what can you mean by proof?"
" I mean I will do something that no prudent man
ought to forgive ; and yet, with all his vast share of
prudence, he shall forgive it, and make a sacrifice of
just resentment to partial affection."
154 A SIMPLE STORY.
" But if you should bedisappointed, and he should
not make the sacrifice ?" said Miss Woodley.
" Then I have only lost a man who had no regard
for me."
" He may have a great regard for you, notwith-
standing."
" But for the love I have felt, and do still feel,
for my Lord Elmwood, I will have something more
than a great regard in return."
" You have his love, I am sure."
" But is it such as mine? /could love Mm if he
had a thousand faults. And yet," said she, recol-
lecting herself " and yet I believe his being fault-
less was the first cause of my passion."
Thus she talked on sometimes in anger, some-
times apparently in jest till her servant came to let
her know the dinner was served. Upon entering
the dining-room, and seeing Lord Elmwood's place
at table vacant, she started back. She was disap-
pointed of the pleasure she expected in dining with
him ; and his sudden absence, so immediately after
the intelligence that she had received from Miss
Woodley, increased her disquietude. She drew her
chair, and sat down with an indifference that pre-
dicted she should not eat; and as soon as she was
seated, she placed her fingers sullenly upon her
lips, nor touched her knife and fork, nor spoke a
word in reply to any thing that was said to her
during the whole dinner. Miss Woodley and Mrs.
Horton were both too well acquainted with the
good disposition of her heart, to take offence, or
appear to notice this behaviour. They dined, and
said nothing either to provoke or sooth her. Just
as the dinner was going to be removed, a loud rap
came at the door. " Who is that?" said Mrs. Hor-
ton. One of the servants went to the window, and
answered, " My lord and Mr. Sandford, madam."
A SIMPLE STORY. 155
" Come back to diuner, as I live!" cried Mrs.
Horton
Miss Miluer continued her position, and said no-
thing ; but at the corners of her mouth, which her
fingers did not entirely conceal, there were dis-
coverable a thousand dimpled graces like small
convulsive fibres, which a restrained smile upon
Lord Elmwood's return had sent there.
Lord Elmwood and Sandford entered.
" I am glad you are returned, my lord," said
Mrs. Horton, " for Miss Milner has not tasted of
one thing ! "
" It was only because I had no appetite," return-
ed she, blushing like crimson.
" We should not have come back," said Sandford,
" but at the place where we went to dine, all the
rooms were filled with company."
Lord Elmwood put the wing of a fowl on Miss
Milner's plate, but without previously asking if she
chose any ; yet she condescended to eat : they spoke
to each other, too, in the course of conversation, but
it was with a reserve that appeared as if they had
been quarrelling, and felt so to themselves, though
no such circumstance had happened.
Two weeks passed away in this kind of distant
behaviour on both sides, without either of them
venturing a direct quarrel, and without either of
them expressing, except inadvertently, their strong
affection for each other.
During this time they were once, however, very
near becoming the dearest friends in expression, as-
well as in sentiment. This arose from a favour that
he granted, in compliance with her desire, though
that desire had not been urged, but merely insinu-
ated ; and as it was a favour which he had refused to
the repeated requests of many of his friends, the
value of the obligation was heightened.
156 A SIMPLE STORY.
She and Miss Woodley had taken an airing to see
the poor child, young Rushbrook. Lord Elm wood
inquiring of the ladies how they had passed their
morning, Miss Milner frankly told him ; and added,
what pain it gave her to leave the child behind,
as he had again cried to come away with her.
" Go for him, then, to-morrow," said Lord Elm-
wood, " and bring him home."
" Home !" she repeated, with surprise.
" Yes," replied he : " if you desire it, this shall be
his home : you shall be a mother, and I will, hence-
forward, be a father to him."
Sandford, who was present, looked unusually sour
at this high token of regard for Miss Milner ; yet,
with resentment on his face, he wiped a tear of joy
from his eye, for the boy's sake. His frown was the
force of prejudice, his tear the force of nature.
Rushbrook was brought home ; and whenever
Lord Elmwood wished to shew a kindness to Miss
Milner, without directing it immediately to her, he
took his nephew upon his knee, talked to him, and
told him, he "was glad they had become acquainted."
In the various, though delicate, struggles for
power between Miss Milner and her guardian, there
was not one person a witness to these incidents who
did not suppose that all would at last end in wed-
lock : for the most common observer perceived
that ardent love was the foundation of every dis-
content, as well as of every joy they experienced.
One great incident, however, totally reversed the
hope of all future accommodation.
The fashionable Lady G gave a masked ball.
Tickets were presented to persons of quality and
fashion : among the rest, three were sent to Miss
Milner. She had never been at a masquerade, and
received them with ecstacy ; the more especially as,
the masque being at the house of a woman of fashion,
A SIMPLE STORY. 1
she did not conceive there could be any objection
to her going. She was mistaken : the moment she
mentioned it to Lord Elmwood, he desired her, some-
what sternly, " not to think of being there." She
was vexed at the prohibition, but more at the man-
ner in which it was delivered, and boldly said, .
that " she should certainly go."
She expected a rebuke for this; but what alarmed
her much more, he said not a word : but he looked
with a resignation, which foreboded her greater sor-
row than the severest reproaches would have done.
She sat for a minute, reflecting how to rouse him
from this composure : she first thought of attacking
him with upbraidings; then she thought of soothing
him, and at last of laughing at him. This was the
most dangerous method of all, and yet this she ven-
tured upon.
" I am sure your lordship," said she, " with all
your saintliness, can have no objection to my being
present at the masquerade, if I go as a nun."
He made no reply.
" That is a habit," continued she, " which covers
a multitude of faults : and, for that evening, I may
have the chance of making a conquest even of you
nay, I question not, if under that inviting attire,
even the pious Mr. Sandford would not ogle me."
" Hush !" said Miss Woodley.
" Why hush?" cried Miss Milner, aloud, though
Miss Woodley had spoken in a whisper. " I am
sure," continued she, " I am only repeating what
1 have read in books about nuns and their confes-
sors."
" Your conduct, Miss Milner," replied Lord Elm-
wood, '.' gives evident proofs of the authors you
have read : you may spare yourself the trouble of
quoting them."
Her pride was hurt at this, beyond bearing ; and
YOI.. xxviii. p
158 A SIMPLE STORY.
as she could not, like him, govern her anger, it
flushed in her face, and almost forced her to tears.
" My lord," said Miss Woodley, in a tone so
soft and peaceful that it might have calmed the re-
sentment of both " my lord, suppose you were to
accompany Miss Milner? There are tickets for three,
and you can then have no objection."
Miss Milner's brow was immediately smoothed ;
and she fetched a sigh, in anxious expectation that
he would consent.
" I go, Miss Woodley !" hereplied, with astonish-
ment. " Do you imagine I would play the buffoon
at a masquerade V
Miss Milner's face changed to its former appear-
ance.
" I have seen grave characters there, my lord,"
said Miss Woodley.
" Dear Miss Woodley," cried Miss Milner, " why
persuade Lord Elmwood to put on a mask, just at
the time he has laid it aside."
His patience was now tempted to its height, and
he answered, " If you suspect me of inconsistency,
madam, you shall find me changed."
Pleased that she had been able at last to irritate
him, she smiled with a degree of triumph, and in
that humour was going to reply ; but before she
could speak four words, and before she thought of
it, he abruptly left the room.
She was highly offended at this insult, and declared,
" from that moment she banished him from her
heart for ever." To prove that she set his love and
his anger at equal defiance, she immediately ordered
her carriage, and said, she " was going to some of
her acquaintance, whom she knew to have tickets,
and with whom she would fix upon the habit she was
to appear in at the masquevade ; for nothing, unless
she was locked up, should alter the resolution she
A SIMPLE STORY. 159
had formed of being there." To remonstrate at
that moment, Miss Woodley knew would be in
vain. Her coach came to the door, and she drove
away.
She did not return to dinner, nor till it was late
in the evening. Lord Elmwood was at home, but he
never once mentioned her name.
She came home, after he had retired, in great
spirits ; and then, for the first time in her whole
life, appeared careless what he might think of her
conduct : but her whole thoughts were occupied
upon the business which had employed the chief of
her day ; and her dress engrossed all her conversa-
tion, as soon as Miss Woodley and she were alone.
She told her she had been shown the greatest
variety of beautiful and becoming dresses she had
ever beheld: " and yet," said she, " I have at last
fixed upon a very plain one ; but one I look so well
in, that you will hardly know me, when I have
it on."
" You are seriously then resolved to go," said
Miss Woodley, " if you hear no more on the sub-
ject from your guardian V
" Whether I do hear or not, Miss Woodley, I
am equally resolved to go."
" But you know, my dear, he has desired you
not ; and you used always to obey his commands."
" As my guardian, I certainly did obey him; and
I could obey him as a husband ; but as a lover I will
not."
" Yet that is the way never to have him for a
husband."
" As he pleases ; for if he will not submit to be
my lover, I will not submit to be his wife nor has
he the affection that I require in a husband."
Thus the old sentiments, repeated again and
again, prevented a separation till towards morning.
p2
60 A SIMPLE STORY.
Miss Milner, for that night, dreamed less of her
guardian than of the masquerade. On the evening
of the next day it was to be : she was up early,
breakfasted in her dressing-room, and remained
there most of the day, busied in a thousand pre-
parations for the night ; one of them was, to arrange
her hair in falling ringlets. Her next care was,
that her dress should display her fine person to the
best advantage. It did so. Miss Wood ley entered
as it was trying on, and was all astonishment at the
elegance of the habit, and its beautiful effect upon
her graceful figure ; but, most of all, she was asto-
nished at her venturing on such a character ; for
though it represented the goddess of Chastity, yet
from the buskins, and the petticoat festooned far
above the ancle, it had, on a first glance, the ap-
pearance of a female much less virtuous. Miss
Woodley admired this dress, yetobjected to it ; but as
she admired first, her objections after had no weight.
" Where is Lord Elmwood V* said Miss Milner :
" he must not see me."
" No, for Heaven's sake," cried Miss Woodley :
" 1 would not have him see you in such a disguise
for the universe."
" And yet," returned the other, with a sigh,
" why am I then thus pleased with my dress ? for I
had rather he should admire me than all the world
besides, and yet he alone must not see me in it."
" But he would not admire you so dressed," said
Miss Woodley.
" How shall 1 contrive to avoid him," said Miss
Milner, " if in the evening he should oiler to hand
me into my carriage ? But I believe he will not be
in good humour enough to do that."
" You had better dress at the house of the ladies
with whom you go," said Miss Woodley ; and this
was agreed upon.
A SIMPLE STORY. 1G1
At dinner they learnt that Lord Elmwood was to
go that evening to Windsor, in order to be in readi-
ness for the king's hunt early in the morning. This
intelligence having dispersed Miss Milner's fears,
she concluded upon dressing at home.
Lord Elmwood appeared at dinner, in an even,
but not in a good temper. The subject of the mas-
querade was never mentioned, nor indeed was it
once in his thoughts ; for though he was offended at
his ward's behaviour on the occasion, and considered
that she committed a fault in telling him, " she would
go," yet he never suspected she meant to do so;
not even at the time she said she did ; much less that
she would persist, coolly and deliberately, in so
direct a contradiction to his will. She, on her part,
flattered herself, that his going to Windsor was
intended in order to give her an opportunity of pass-
ing the evening as she pleased, without his being
obliged to know of it, and consequently to complain.
Miss Woodley, who was willing to hope as she
wished, began to be of the same opinion ; and,
without reluctance, dressed herself as a wood-
nymph to accompany her friend.
CHAPTER XXVI.
At half after eleven, Miss Milner's chair and an-
other with Miss Woodley took them from Lord
Elmwood's, to call upon the party (wood-nymphs
and huntresses) who were to accompany them,
and make up the suite of Diana.
They had not left the house two minutes, when a
thundering rap came at the door : it was Lord Elm-
wood in a post-chaise. Upon some occasion the
next dav's hunt was deferred : he had been made
p 3
162 A SIMPLE STORY.
acquainted with it, and came from Windsor at that
late hour. After he had informed Mrs. Horton and
Mr. Sandford, who were sitting together, of the
cause of his sudden return, and had some supper
ordered to be brought in for him, he inquired,
" what company had been supping there."
" We have been alone the whole evening, my
lord," replied Mrs. Horton.
" Nay," returned he, " I saw two chairs, with
several servants, come out of the door as 1 drove
up, but what livery I could not discern."
" We have had no creature here," repeated Mrs.
Horton.
" Nor has Miss Milner had visitors?" asked he.
This brought Mrs. Horton to her recollection,
and she cried, " Oh ! now I know ; " and then
checked herself, as if she knew too much.
" What do you know, madam?" said he, sharply.
" Nothing," said Mrs. Horton, " I know no-
thing ; " and she lifted up her hands ami shook
her head.
" So all people say, who know a great deal,"
cried Sandford ; " and I suspect that is at present
your case."
" Then I know more than I wish, I am sure, Mr.
Sandford," returned she, shrugging up her shoul-
ders.
Lord Ehnwood was all impatience.
" Explain, madam, explain."
" Dear, my lord," said she, " if your lordship
will recollect, you may just have the same know-
ledge that I have."
" Recollect what?" said he, sternly.
" The quarrel you and your ward had about the
masquerade."
" What of that? She is not gone there?" he cried.
"I am not sure she is," returned Mrs. Horton.
A SIMPLE STORY. 163
" But if your lordship saw two sedau chairs going
out of this house, 1 cannot hut suspect it must be
Miss Miluer and my niece going to the masquerade."
He made no answer, but rang the bell violently.
A servant entered. " Send Miss Milner's maid
hither," said he, " immediately." The man with-
drew.
" Nay, my lord," cried Mrs. Horton, " any of
the other servants could tell you just as well, whe-
ther Miss Milner is at home, or gone out."
" Perhaps not," replied he.
The maid entered.
" Where is your mistress ?" said Lord Elmwo:)d.
The woman had received no orders to conceal
where the ladies were gone, and yet a secret influ-
ence, which governs the thoughts of all waiting-
women and chambermaids, whispered to her that
she ought not to tell the truth.
" Where is your mistress?" repeated he, in a
louder voice than before.
" Gone out, my lord," she replied.
" Where?"
" My lady did not tell me."
" And don't you know?"
" No, my lord," she answered, and without
blushing.
" Is this the night of the masquerade?" said he.
" I don't know, my lord, upon my word ; but I
believe, my lord, it is not."
Sandford, as soon as Lord Elmwood had asked the
last question, ran hastily to the table, at the other
side of the room, took something from it, and return-
ed to his place again ; and when the maid said, " It
was not the night of the masquerade," he exclaimed,
" But it is, my lord, it is yes, it is !" and shewing
a newspaper in his hand, pointed to the paragraph
which contained the information.
164 A SIMPLE STORY.
" Leave the room," said Lord Elrawood to the
woman: " I have done with you." She went away.
" Yes, yes, here it is," repeated Sandford, with
the paper still in his hand. He then read the para-
graph : " The masquerade at the /tight Honourable
Lady G 's this evening" ' This evening, my
lord, you find' " it is expected will be the most
brilliant of any thing of the kind for these many
years past."
" They should not put such things in the papers,"
said Mrs. Horton, " to tempt young women to their
ruin." The word ruin grated upon Lord Elmwood's
ear ; and he said to the servant who came to wait
on him while he supped, " Take the supper away."
He had not attempted either to eat, or even to sit
down ; and he now walked backwards and forwards
in the room, lost in thought and care.
A little time after, one of Miss Milner's footmen
came in upon some occasion, and Mr. Sandford said
to him, " Pray did you attend your lady to the
masquerade?"
" Yes, sir," replied the man.
Lord Elmwood stopped himself short in his walk,
and said to the servant, " You did?"
" Yes, my lord," replied he.
He walked again.
" I should like to know what she was dressed in,"
said Mrs. Horton ; and turning to the servant, " Do
you know what your lady had on 1 "
" Yes, madam," replied the man: " she was in
men's clothes."
" How ! " cried Lord Elmwood.
" You tell a story, to be sure," said Mrs. Horton
to the servant.
" No," cried Sandford, " I am sure he does not ;
for he is an honest good young man, and would not
tell a lie upon any account. Would you, Tnomas?"
A SIMPLE STORY. 165
Lord Elmwood ordered Miss Milner's woman to
be again sent up. She came.
" In what dress did your lady go to the masque-
rade?" he asked, and with a look so extremely
morose, it seemed to command the answer in a
single word, and that word to be truth.
A mind, with a spark of sensibility more than this
woman possessed, could not have equivocated with
such an interrogator ; but her reply was, " She went
in her own dress, my lord."
" Was it a man's or a woman's?" asked he, with
a look of the same command.
" Ha, ha, my lord ! " half laughing and half
crying: " a woman's dress, to be sure, my lord."
On which Sandford cried
" Call the footman up, and let him confront her."
He was called ; but Lord Elmwood, now disgust-
ed at the scene, withdrew to the further end of the
room, and left Sandford to question them.
With all the authority and consequence of a
country magistrate, Sandford, his back to the fire,
and the witnesses before him, began with the foot-
man.
" In what dress do you say that you saw your
lady decorated, when you attended, and went along
with her to the masquerade ? "
" In men's clothes," replied the man, boldly and
firmly as before.
" Bless my soul, Thomas, how can you say such
a thing?" cried the woman.
" What dress do you say she went in ? " cried
Sandford to her.
" In women's clothes, indeed, sir."
" This is very odd ! " said Mrs. Ilorton.
" Had she on, or had she not on, a coat?"
asked Sandford.
" Yes, sir, a petticoat," replied the woman.
166 A SIMPLE STORY.
" Do you say she had on a petticoat?" said
Sandford to the man.
" I can't answer exactly for that," replied he ;
" but I know she had boots on."
" They were not boots," replied the maid, with
vehemence. " Indeed, sir," turning to Sandford,
" they were only half boots."
" My girl," said Sandford kindly to her, : ' your
own evidence convicts your mistress : what has a
woman to do with any boots ? "
Impatient at this mummery, Lord Elmwood rose,
ordered the servants out of the room, and then,
looking at his watch, found it was near one. " At
what hour am I to expect her home"? " said he.
" Perhaps not till three in the morning," answered
Mrs. Horton.
" Three ! more likely six," cried Sandford.
" I can't wait with patience till that time,"
answered Lord Elmwood, with a deep and most
anxious sigh.
" You had better go to bed, my lord," said Mrs.
Horton ; " and, by sleeping, the time will pass away
unperceived."
" If I could sleep, madam."
" Will you play a game of cards, my lord ? " said
Sandford ; " for I will not leave you till she comes
home ; and though I am not used to sit up all
night "
" All night ! " repeated Lord Elmwood : ** she
dares not stay all night."
" And yet, after going," said Sandford, " in de-
fiance to your commands, I should suppose she
dared."
" She is in good company, at least, my lord,"
said Mrs. Horton.
" She does not know herself what company she
is in," replied he.
A SIMPLE STORY. 167
" How should she," cried Sandford, " where
every one hides his face 1 "
Till five o'clock in the morning, in conversation
such as this, the hours lingered away. Mrs. Horton,
indeed, retired to her chamber at two, and left the
gentlemen to a more serious discourse ; but a dis-
course still less advantageous to poor Miss Milner.
She, during this time, was at the scene of pleasure
she had painted to herself ; and all the pleasure it
gave her was, that she was sure she should never
desire to go to a masquerade again. Its crowd and
bustle fatigued her its freedom offended her deli-
cacy : and though she perceived that she was the
first object of admiration in the place, yet there was
one person still wanting to admire ; and the regret
at having transgressed his injunctions for so trivial
an entertainment, weighed upon her spirits, and
added to their weariness. She would have come
away sooner than she did : but she could not, with
any degree of good manners, leave the company
with whom she went ; and not till half after four
were they prevailed on to return.
Daylight just peeped through the shutters of the
room in which Lord Elmwood and Sandford were
sitting, when the sound of her carriage, and the
sudden stop it made at the door, caused Lord Elm-
wood to start from his chair. He trembled ex-
tremely, and looked pale. Sandford was ashamed
to seem to notice it, yet he could not help asking
him, " to take a glass of wine." He took it, and
for once evinced he was reduced so low as to be
glad of such a resource.
What exact passion thus agitated Lord Elmwood
at this crisis it is hard to define. Perhaps it was
indignation at Miss Milner's imprudence, and ex-
ultation at being on the point of revenge : perhaps
his emotion arose from joy, to find that she was
168 A SIMPLE STORY.
safe returned : perhaps it was perturbation at the
grief he felt that he must upbraid her : perhaps
it was not one alone of these sensations, but all of
them combined.
She, wearied out with the tedious night's dissipa-
tion, and far less joyous than melancholy, had fallen
asleep as she rode home, and came half asleep out
of her carriage. " Light me to my bedchamber
instantly," said she to her maid, who waited in the
hall to receive her. But one of Lord Elmwood's
valets went up to her, and answered, " Madam, my
lord desires to see you before you retire."
" Your lord !" she cried : " is he not from town?"
" No, madam, my lord has been at home ever
since you went out ; and has been sitting up with
Mr. Sandford waiting for you."
She was wide awake immediately. The heaviness
was removed from her eyes; but fear, sorrow, and
shame, seized upon her heart. She leaned against
her maid, as if unable to support herself under those
feelings, and said to Miss Woodley,
" Make my excuse I cannot see him to-night
I am unfit indeed I cannot."
Miss Woodley was alarmed at the prospect of
going to him by herself, and thus, perhaps, irritating
him still more : she, therefore, said, " He has sent
for you; for Heaven's sake, do not disobey him a
second time."
" No, dear madam, don't," cried her woman,
" for he is like a lion he has been scolding me."
" Good God ! " exclaimed Miss Milner, and in
a tone that seemed prophetic : " then he is not to
be my husband, after all!"
" Yes," cried Miss Woodley, " if you will only
be humble, and appear sorry. You know your
power over him, and all may yet be well."
She turned her speaking eyes upon her friend,
A SIMPLE STORY. 169
the tears starting from them, her lips trembling
' ' Do I not appear sorry ?" she cried .
The hell at that moment rang furiously, and they
hastened their steps to the door of the apartment
where Lord Rlmwood was.
" No," replied Miss Woodley to her last question,
" this shuddering is only fright : say to him you are
sorry, and beg his pardon."
" 1 cannot," replied she, " if Mr. Sandford be with
him."
The servant opened the door, and she and Miss
Woodley went in. Lord Elmwood, by this time,
was composed, and received her with a slight incli-
nation of his head : she bowed to him in return, and
said, with some marks of humility,
" I suppose, my lord, I have done wrong."
" You have indeed, Miss Milner," answered he ;
" but do not suppose, that I mean to upbraid you :
I am, on the contrary, going to release you from any
such apprehension Jot the future."
Those last three words he delivered with a coun-
tenance so serious and so determined, with an accent
so firm and so decided, they pierced through her
heart. Yet she did not weep, or even sigh ; but her
friend, knowing what she felt, exclaimed, " Oh !"
as if for her.
She herself strove with her anguish, and replied,
(but with a faltering voice) " I expected as much,
my lord."
" Then, madam, you perhaps expect all that I
intend V
" In regard to myself," she replied, " I suppose
I do."
" Then," said he, " you may expect that in a few
days we shall part."
" I am prepared for it, my lord," she answered,
and, while she said so, sunk upon a chair.
VOL. XXVIII. Q
170 A SIMPLE STORY.
" My lord, what you have to say farther," said
Miss Woodley, in tears, " defer till the morning :
Miss Miluer, you see, is not able to bear it now."
" I have nothing to say farther," replied he coolly:
" I have now only to act."
"Lord Elmwood," cried Miss Milner, divided
between grief and anger, '* you think to terrify me
by your menaces; but I can part with you : Heaven
knows I can. Your late behaviour has reconciled
me to a separation."
On this he was going out of the room ; but Miss
Woodley, catching hold of him, cried, " Oh ! my
lord, do not leave her in this sorrow : pity her weak-
ness, and forgive it." She was proceeding ; and he
seemed as if inclined to listen, when Sandford called
ont in a tone of voice so harsh,
" Miss Woodley, what do you mean ?" She gave
a start, and desisted.
Lord Elmwood then turned to Sandford, and said,
*' Nay, Mr. Sandford, you need entertain no doubts
of me : I have judged, and have deter "
He was going to say determined ; but Miss Milner
who dreaded the word, interrupted the period, and
exclaimed, " Oh ! could my poor father know the
days of sorrow I have experienced since his death,
how would he repent his fatal choice of a protector !"
This sentence, in which his friend's memory was
recalled, with an additional allusion to her long and
secret love for him, affected Lord Elmwood. He
was much moved, but ashamed of being so, and as
soon as possible conquered the propensity to forgive.
Yet, for a short interval, he did not know whether
to go out of the room, or to remain in it ; whether
to speak, or to be silent. At length he turned to-
wards her, and said,
" Appeal to your father in some other form : in
that (pointing at her dress), he will not know you.
A SIMPLE STORY. 17 L
Reflect upon him, too, in your moments of dis-
sipation, and let his memory controul your indiscre-
tions ; not merely in an hour of contradiction call
peevishly upon his name, only to wound the dearest
friend you have."
There was a degree of truth, and a degree of pas-
sionate feeling, in the conclusion of this speech, that
alarmed Sandford : he caught up one of thecandles
and, laying hold of his friend's elbow, drew him out
of the room, crying, " Come, my lord, come to your
bedchamber it is very late it is morning it is
time to rise." And by a continual repetition of
these words, in a very loud voice, he wilfully drowned
whatever Lord Elmwood, or any other person, might
have wished either to have said or to have heard.
In this manner, Lord Elmwood was forced out
of the apartment, and the evening's vicissitudes
ended.
CHAPTER XXVII.
Two whole days passed in the bitterest suspense on
the part of Miss Milner, while neither one word nor
look from Lord Elmwood denoted the most trivial
change of the sentiments he had declared on the
night of the masquerade. Still those sentiments, or
intentions, were not explicitly delivered : they were
more like intimations, than solemn declarations
for though he had said, " he would never reproach
her fur the future" and that " she might expect
they should part," he had not positively said they
should : and upon this doubtful meaning of his
words, she hung with the strongest agitation of hope
and of fear.
Miss Woodlev, seeing the distress of her mind,
Q 2
J72 A SIMPLE STORY.
(much as she endeavoured to conceal it), entreated,
nay implored of her, to permit her to be a mediator ;
to suffer her to ask for a private interview with Lord
Elmwood, and, if she found him inflexible, to behave
with a proper spirit in return ; but if he appeared
not absolutely averse to a reconciliation, to offer it
in so cautious a manner, that it might take place
without farther uneasiness on either side. But Miss
Milner peremptorily forbade this, and acknowledging
to her friend every weakness she felt on the occasion,
yet concluded with solemnly declaring, that " after
what had passed between her and Lord Elmwood,
he must be the first to make a concession, before she
herself would condescend to be reconciled."
" I believe I know Lord Elmwood's temper,"
replied Miss Woodley ; " and I do not think he will
be easily induced to beg pardon for a fault which
he thinks you have committed."
" Then he does not love me."
" Pshaw ! Miss Milner, this is the old argument.
He may love you too well to spoil you. Consider
that he is your guardian as well as your lover : he
means also to become your husband ; and he is a
man of such nice honour, that he will not indulge
you with any power before marriage, to which he
does not intend to submit hereafter."
" But tenderness, affection, the politeness due
from a lover to his mistress demands his submission ;
and as I now despair of enticing, I will oblige him to
it : at least I'll make the experiment, and know my
fate at once."
" What do you mean to do ?"
" Invite Lord Frederick to the house, and ask my
guardian's consent for our immediate union : you
, will then see, what effect that measure will have
upon his pride."
" But \ou will then make it too late for him to be
A SIMPLE STORY. 173
humble. If you resolve on this, my dear Miss Mil-
ner, you are undone at once ; you may thus hurry
yourself into a marriage with a man you do not love,
and the misery of your whole future life may be the
result. Or, would you force Mr. Dorriforth (I mean
Lord Ehnwood) to another duel with my Lord
Frederick ?"
" No, call him Dorriforth," answered she, with
the tears stealing from her eyes : " I thank you for
calling him so ; for by that name alone is he dear
to me."
" Nay, Miss Milner, with what rapture did you
not receive his love, as Lord Ehnwood ! "
" But under this title he has been barbarous :
under the first, he was all friendship and tender-
ness."
Notwithstanding Miss Milner indulged herself in
all these soft bewailings to her friend ; before Lord
Elmwood she maintained a degree of pride and
steadiness which surprised even him, who perhaps
thought less of her love for him than any other
person. She now began to fear she had gone too
tar in discovering her affection, and resolved to make
trial of a contrary method. She determined to
retrieve that haughty character which had inspired
so many of her admirers with passion, and take the
chance of its effect upon this only suitor, to whom
she ever acknowledged a mutual attachment. But
although she resumed and acted this character well
so well that every one but Miss Woodley thought
her in earnest ; yet, with nice and attentive anxiety,
she watched even the slightest circumstances that
might revive her hopes, or confirm her despair.
Lord Elmwood's behaviour was calculated only to
produce the latter : he was cold, polite, and per-
fectly indifferent. Yet, whatever his manners now
were, thev did not remove from her recollection
Q 3
174 A SIMPLE STORY.
what they had been. She recalled, with delight, the
ardour with which he had first declared his passion
to her, and the thousand proofs he had since given
of its reality. From the constancy of his disposition,
she depended that sentiments like these were not
totally eradicated ; and from the extreme desire
which Mr. Sand ford now, more than ever, discovered
of depreciating her in his patron's esteem : from the
now more than common zeal which urged him to
take Lord Elmwood from her company, whenever
he had it in his power, she was led to believe that
while his friend entertained such strong fears of his
relapsing into love, she had reason to indulge the
strongest hopes that he would relapse.
But the reserve, and even indifference, that she
had so well assumed for a few days, and which might
perhaps have effected her design, she had not the
patience to persevere in, without calling levity to
their aid. She visited repeatedly without saying
where, or with whom ; kept later hours than usual,
appeared in the highest spirits ; sung, laughed,
and never heaved a sigh, but when she was alone.
Still Lord Elmwood protracted a resolution, that
he was determined he would never break when
taken.
Miss Woodley was excessively uneasy, and with
cause. She saw her friend was providing herself
with a weight of cares, which she might soon find
infinitely too much for her strength to bear. She
would have reasoned with her, but all her arguments
had long since proved unavailing. She wished to
speak to Lord Elmwood upon the subject, and (un-
known to her) plead her excuse; but he apprehended
Miss Woodley's intention, and evidently shunned
her. Mr. Sandford was now the only person to
whom she could speak of Miss Milner, and the de-
light he took to expatiate on her faults, was more
A SIMPLE STORY. 175
sorrow to her friend, than not to speak of her at all.
She, therefore, sat a silent spectator, waiting with
<lread for the time when she, who now scorned her
advice, would fly to her in vain for comfort.
Sandford had, however, said one thing to Miss
Woodley, which gave her a ray of hope. During
their conversation on the subject (not by way of
consolation to her, but as a reproach to Lord Elm-
wood), he one day angrily exclaimed, " And yet,
notwithstanding all this provocation, he has not come
to the determination that he will think no more of
her: he lingers and he hesitates. I never saw him
so weak upon any occasion before."
This was joyful hearing to Miss Woodley : still
she could not but reflect, the longer he was in com-
ing to this determination, the more irrevocable it
would be when once taken ; and every moment that
passed she trembled lest it should be the very mo-
ment, in which Lord Elmwood should resolve to
banish Miss Milner from his heart.
Amongst her unpardonable indiscretions, during
this trial upon the temper of her guardian, was the
frequent mention of many gentlemen who had been
her professed admirers, and the mention of thtm
with partiality . Teased, if not tortured, by this,
Lord Elmwood still behaved with a manly evenness
of temper, and neither appeared provoked on the
subject nor insolently careless. In a single in-
stance, however, this calmness was near deserting
him.
Entering the drawing-room, one evening, he
started, on seeing Lord Frederick Lawnley there,
in earnest conversation with Miss Milner.
Mrs. Horton and Miss Woodley were both indeed
present, and Lord Frederick was talking in an audible
voice upon some indifferent subjects ; but with that
impressive manner in which a man never fails to
17G A SIMPLE STORY.
speak to the woman he loves, be the subject what it
may. The moment Lord Elmwood started, which
was the moment he entered, Lord Frederick arose.
" I beg your pardon, my lord," said Lord Elm-
wood : " I protest I did not know you."
" I ought to entreat your lordship's pardon," re-
turned Lord Frederick, " for this intrusion, which
an accident alone has occasioned. Miss Milner has
been almost overturned by the carelessness of a
lady's coachman, in whose carriage she was, and
therefore suffered me to bring her home in mine."
" I hope you are not hurt," said Lord Elmwood
to Miss Milner ; but his voice was so much affected
by what he felt, that he could scarce articulate the
words. Not with the apprehension that she was
hurt was he thus agitated ; for the gaiety of her
manners convinced him that could not be the case :
nor did he indeed suppose any accident of the kind
mentioned had occurred ; but the circumstance of
unexpectedly seeing Lord Frederick had taken him
off his guard ; and being totally unprepared, he
could not conceal indications of the surprise and
of the shock it had given him.
Lord Frederick, who had heard nothing of his
intended union with his ward (for it was even kept
a secret, at present, from every servant in the house),
imputed this discomposure to the personal resent-
ment he might bear him, in consequence of their
duel : for though Lord Elmwood had assured the
uncle of Lord Frederick (who once waited upon
him on the subject of Miss Milner), that all resent-
ment was, on his part, entirely at an end ; and that
he was willing to consent to his ward's marriage with
his nephew, if she would concur ; yet Lord Fre-
derick doubted the sincerity of this protestation, and
would still have had the delicacy not to have entered
Lord Elm wood's house, had he not been encouraged
A SIMPLE STORY. 177
by Miss Milner, and emboldened by his love. Per-
sonal resentment was therefore the construction he
put upon Lord Elmwood's emotion on entering the
room ; but Miss Milner and MissWoodley knew his
agitation to arise from a far different cause.
After his entrance, Lord Frederick did not at-
tempt once to resume his seat, but having bowed
most respectfully to all present, he took his leave ;
while Miss Milner followed him as far as the door,
and repeated her thanks for his protection.
Lord Elmvvood was hurt beyond measure ; but
he had a second concern, which was, that he had
not the power to conceal how much he was affected.
He trembled. When he attempted to speak, he
stammered : he perceived his face burning with con-
fusion ; and thus one confusion gave birth to another,
till his state was pitiable.
Miss Milner, with all her assumed gaiety and real
insolence, had not, however, the insolence to seem
as if she observed him; she had only the confidence
to observe him by stealth. And Mrs. Horton and
Miss Woodley having opportunely begun a dis-
course upon some trivial occurrences, gave him time
to recover himself by degrees. Still it was merely
by degrees ; for the impression which this incident
had made was deep, and not easily to be erased.
The entrance of Mr. Sandford, who knew nothing
of what had happened, was, however, another relief;
for he began a conversation with him, which they
very soon retired into the library to terminate.
Miss Milner, taking Miss Woodley with her, went
directly to her own apartment, and there exclaimed
in rapture,
" He is mine he loves me and lie is mine for
ever."
Miss Woodley congratulated her upon believing
so, but confessed she herself " had her fears."
178 A SIMPLE STORY.
" What fears ?" cried Miss Milner. " Don't you
perceive that he loves me ? "
" I do," said Miss Woodley ; " but that I always
believed : and, I think, if he loves you now, he has
yet the good sense to know that he has reason to
hate you."
"What has good sense to do with love?" re-
turned Miss Milner. " If a lover of mine suffers his
understanding to get the better of his affection "
The same arguments were going to be repeated ;
but Miss Woodley interrupted her, by requiring an
explanation of her conduct as to Lord Frederick,
whom, at least, she was treating with cruelty, if she
only made use of his affection to stimulate that of
Lord Elmwood.
" By no means, my dear Miss Woodley," returned
she. " I have, indeed, done with my Lord Frederick
from this day, and he has certainly given me the
proof I wanted of Lord Elmwood's love; but then
I did not engage him to this by the smallest ray of
hope. No : do not suspect me of such artifice while
my heart was another's ; and I assure you, seriously,
that it was from the circumstance we described he
came with me home : yet, I must own, that if I had
not had this design upon Lord Elmwood's jealousy
in idea, I would have walked on foot through the
treets, rather than have suffered his rival's civilities.
But he pressed his services so violently, and my
Lady Evans (in whose coach I was when the acci-
dent happened) pressed me so violently to accept
them, that he cannot expect any farther meaning
from this acquiescence than my own convenience."
Miss Woodley was going to reply, when she re-
sumed,
" Nay, if you intend to say I have done wrong,
still 1 am not sorry for it, when it has given me such
convincing proofs of Lord Elmwood's love. Did
A SIMPLE STORY. 179
you see him ? I am afraid you did not see how he
trembled, nor observe how that manly voice fal-
tered, as mine does sometimes ? His proud heart
was humbled too, as mine is sometimes. Oh !
Miss Woodley, I have been counterfeiting indif-
ference to him I now find that all his indifference
to me. has been counterfeit also, and that we not
only love, but love equally."
" Suppose this all as you hope, I yet think it
highly necessary that your guardian should be in-
formed, seriously informed, it was mere accident
(for, at present, that plea seems but as a subter-
fuge) which brought Lord Frederick hither."
" No; that will be destroying the work so success-
fully begun. I will not suffer any explanation to
take place, but let my Lord Elmwood act just as his
love shall dictate : and now I have no longer a doubt
of its excess, instead of stooping to him, I wait in
the certain expectation of his submission to me.''
CHAPTER XXVIII.
In vain, for three long days, did Miss Milner wait
impatiently for this submission ; not a sign, not a
symptom appeared. Nay, Lord Elmwood had, since
the evening of Lord Frederick's visit (which, at the
time it took place, seemed to affect him so exceed-
ingly), become just the same man he was before the
circumstance occurred : except, indeed, that he was
less thoughtful, and now and then cheerful ; but
without any appearance that his cheerfulness was
affected. Miss Milner was vext she was alarmed
but was ashamed to confess those humiliating
180 A SIMPLE STORY.
sensations, even to Miss Woodley. She supported,
therefore, when in company, the vivacity she had so
long; assumed; but gave way, when alone, to a still
greater degree of melancholy than usual. She no
longer applauded her scheme of bringing Lord Fre-
derick to the house, and was terrified lest, on some
pretence, he should dare to call again. But as thes'e
were feelings which her pride would not suffer her
to disclose even to her friend, who would have con-
doled with her, their effects were doubly poignant.
Sitting in her dressing-room one forenoon with
Miss Woodley, and burthened with a load of grief
that she blushed to acknowledge ; while her com-
panion was charged with apprehensions that she too
was loth to disclose, one of Lord Elmwood's valets
tapped gently at the door, and delivered a letter to
Miss Milner. By the person who brought it, as
well as by the address, she knew it came from Lord
Elmwood, and laid it down upon her toilet, as if she
was fearful to unfold it.
" What is that?" said Miss Woodley.
" A letter from Lord Elmwood," replied Miss
Milner.
" Good Heaven !" exclaimed Miss Woodley.
" Nay," returned she, " it is, 1 have no doubt, a
letter to beg my pardon." But her reluctance to
open it plainly evinced she did not think so.
" Do not read it yet," said Miss Woodley.
" I do not intend it," replied she, trembling ex-
tremely.
" Will you dine first?" said Miss Woodley.
" No : for not knowing its contents, I shall not
know how to conduct myself towards him."
Here a silence followed. Miss Milner took up
the letter looked earnestly at the hand -writing on
the outside at the seal inspected into its folds
A SIMPLE STORY. 18L
and seemed to wish, by some equivocal method, to
guess at the contents, without having the courage
to come at the certain knowledge of them.
Curiosity, at length, got the better of her fears :
she opened the letter, and, scarcely able to hold it
while she read, she read the following words:
" MADAM,
" While I considered you only as my ward, my
friendship for you was unbounded ; when 1 looked
upon you as a woman formed to grace a fashionable
circle, my admiration equalled my friendship ; and
when fate permitted me to behold you in the tender
light of my betrothed wife, my soaring love left those
humbler passions at a distance.
" That you have still my friendship, my admira-
tion, and even my love, I will not attempt to deceive
either myself or you by disavowing : but still, with a
firm assurance, I declare, that prudence outweighs
them all ; and I have not, from henceforward, the
slightest desire to be regarded by you, in any other
respect than as one ' who wishes you well.' That
you ever beheld me in the endearing quality of a
destined and an affectionate husbaud (such as I
would have proved) has been a deception upon my
hopes. They acknowledge the mistake, and are
humbled : but 1 entreat you to spare their farther
trial, and for a single week not to insult me with
the open preference of another. In the short
space of that period I shall have taken my leave
of you -for ever.
" I shall visit Italy, and some other parts of the
continent ; from whence I propose passing to the
West Indies, in order to jnspect my possessions
there : nor shall I return to England till after a few
years absence; in which time 1 hope to become once
more reconciled to the change of state I am enjoined
VOL. XXVIII. R
]{J2 A SIMPLE STORY.
a change I now most fervently wish could be
entirely dispensed with.
" The occasion of my remaining' here a week
longer, is to settle some necessary affairs; among
which the principal is, that of delivering to a friend,
a man of worth and of tenderness, all those writings
which have invested me with the power of my
guardianship. He will, the day after my departure,
(without one upbraiding word) resign them to you
in my name ; and even your most respected father,
could he behold the resignation, would concur in its
propriety.
" And now, my dear Miss Milner, let not affected
resentment, contempt, or levity, oppose that sere-
nity, which, for the week to come, I wish to enjoy.
By complying with this request, give me to believe,
that, since you have been under my care, you think
I have, at least, faithfully discharged some part of
my duty. And, wherever I have been inadequate to
your expectations, attribute my demerits to some
infirmity of mind, rather than to a negligence of
your happiness. Yet, be the cause what it will,
since these faults have existed, I do not attempt to
disavow or extenuate them, and I beg your pardon.
" However time and a succession of objects
may eradicate more tender sentiments, I am sure
never to lose the liveliest anxiety for your welfare :
and with all that solicitude, which cannot be de-
scribed, I entreat for your own sake, for mine,
when we shall be far asunder, and for the sake of
your dead father's memory, that, upon every im-
portant occasion, you will call your serious judg-
ment to direct you.
" 1 am, madam,
" Your sincere*! friend,
" ELMWoOD."
A SIMPLE STORY. 183
After she had read every syllable of this letter
carefully, it dropped from her hands ; hut she ut-
tered not a word. There was, however, a paleness
in her face, a deadness in her eye, and a kind of
palsy over her frame, which Miss Wood ley, who
had seen her iu every stage of her unhappiness,
never had seen before.
" I do not want to read the letter," said Miss
Wood ley : " your looks tell me its contents."
" They will then discover to Lord Elmwood,"
replied she, "what I feel; but, Heaven forbid
that would sink me even lower than I am."
Scarce able to move, she rose, and looked in her
glass, as if to arrange her features, and impose upon
him : alas ! it was of no avail a contented mind
could alone effect what she desired.
" You must endeavour," said Miss Woodley, " to
feel the disposition you wish to make appear."
" I will," replied she : " I will feel a proper pride,
and consequently a proper indifference to this
treatment."
And so desirous was she to attain the appearance
of these sentiments, that she made the strongest
efforts to calm her thoughts, in order to acquire it.
" I have but a few days to remain with him," she
said to herself, " and we part for ever. During
those few days it is not only my duty to obey his
commands, or rather comply with his request, but it
is also my wish to leave upon his mind an impression,
which may not add to the ill opinion he has formed
of me, but, perhaps, serve to diminish it. If, in
every other instance, my conduct has been blame-
able, he shall, at least in this, acknowledge its
merit. The fate I have drawn upon myself, he shall
find I can be resigned to ; and he shall be convinced,
that the woman, of whose weakness he has had so
many fatal proofs, is yet in possession of some for-
R 2
184 A SIMPLE STORY.
titude fortitude, to bid him farewel, without dis-
covering one affected or one real pang, though her
death should be the consequence of her suppressed
sufferings."
Thus she resolved and thus she acted. The
severest judge could not have arraigned her conduct,
from the day she received Lord Elmwood's letter,
to the day of his departure. She had, indeed, in-
voluntary weaknesses, but none with which she did
not struggle, and in general her struggles were
victorious.
The first time she saw him after the receipt of his
letter, was on the evening of the same day. She
had a little concert of amateurs of music, and was
herself singing and playing when he entered the
room: the connoisseurs immediately perceived she
made a false cadence ; but Lord Elmwood was no
connoisseur in the art, and he did not observe it.
They occasionally spoke to each other during the
evening, but the subjects were general ; and though
their manners, every time they spoke, were perfectly
polite, they were not marked with the smallest degree
of familiarity. To describe his behaviour exactly,
it was the same as his letter polite, friendly, com-
posed, and resolved. Some of the company staid
supper, which prevented the embarrassment that
must unavoidably have arisen, had the family been
by themselves.
The next morning each breakfasted in his separate
apartments more company dined with them : in
the evening, and at supper, Lord Elmwood was
from home.
Thus, all passed on as peaceably as he had re-
quested, and Miss Milner had not betrayed one
particle of frailty ; when, the third day at dinner,
some gentlemen of his acquaintance being at table,
one of them said,
A SIMPLE STORY. 185
" And so, my lord, you absolutely set off on
Tuesday morning?"
This was Friday.
Sandford and he both replied at the same time,
" Yes." And Sandford, but not Lord Elmwood,
looked at Miss Milner when he spoke. Her knife
and fork gave a sudden spring- in her hand, but no
other emotion witnessed what she felt.
" Aye, Elmwood," cried another gentleman at
table, " you'll bring home, 1 am afraid, a foreign
wife, and that I shan't forgive."
" It is his errand abroad, I make no doubt," said
another visitor.
Before he could return au answer, Sandford cried,
" And what objection to a foreigner for a wife? Do
not crowned heads all marry foreigners? And who
happier in the married state than some kings? "
Lord Elmwood directed his eyes to the side of the
table, opposite to that where Miss Milner sat.
" Nay," answered one of the guests, who was a
country gentleman, " what do you say, ladies ? Do
you think my lord ought to go out of his own nation
for a wife?" and he looked at Miss Milner for the
reply.
Miss Woodley, uneasy at her friend's being thus
forced to give an opinion upon so delicate a subject,
endeavoured to satisfy the gentleman, by answering
to the question herself: " Whoever my Lord Elm-
wood marries, sir," said Miss Woodley, " he, no
doubt, will be happy.'
" But what say you, madam? " asked the visitor,
still keeping his eyes on Miss Milner.
" That whoever Lord Elmwood marries, he de-
serves to be happy," she returned, with the utmost
command of her voice and looks ; for Miss Woodley,
by replying first, had given her time to collect her-
self.
R 3
180 A SIMPLE STORY.
The colour flew to Lord Elmwood's face, as she
delivered this short sentence ; and Miss Woodley
persuaded herself she saw a tear start in his eye.
Miss Milner did not look that way.
In an instant he found means to change the topic,
but that of his journey still employed the conversa-
tion ; and what horses, servants, and carriages he
took with him, was minutely asked, and so accu-
rately answered, either by himself or by Mr. Sand-
ford, that Miss Milner, although she had known her
doom before, till now had received no circumstantial
account of it ; and as circumstances increase or
diminish all we feel, the hearing these things in de-
tail described increased the bitterness of their truth.
Soon after dinner the ladies retired ; and from
that time, though Miss Milner's behaviour continued
the same, yet her looks and her voice were totally
altered. For the world, she could not have looked
cheerfully: for the world, she could not have spoken
with a sprightly accent: she frequently began in one,
but not three words did she utter, before her tones
sunk into a melody of dejection. Not only her
colour but her features became changed ; her eyes
lost their brilliancy, her lips seemed to hang without
the power of motion, her head drooped, and her
dress looked neglected. Conscious of this appear-
ance, and conscious of the cause from whence it
arose, it was her desire to hide herself from the fatal
object, the source of her despondency. Accord-
ingly, she sat alone, or with Miss Woodley in her
own apartment, as much as was consistent with that
civility which her guardian had requested, and which
forbade her from totally absenting herself.
Miss Woodley felt so acutely the torments of
her friend, that had not her reason told her, that the
inflexible mind of Lord Elmwood was fixed beyond
her power to shake, she had cast herself at his feet,
A SIMPLE STORY. 187
and implored the return of his affection and tender-
ness, as the only means to save his once-beloved
ward from an untimely grave. But her understand-
ing her knowledge of his firm and immoveable
temper, and of all his provocations her knowledge
of his word, long since given to Sandford, " That if
once resolved, he would not recal his resolution,"
the certainty of the various plans arranged for his
travels, all convinced her, that by any interference,
she would only expose Miss Milner's love and deli-
cacy to a contemptuous rejection.
If the conversation, when the family were as-
sembled, did not every day turn upon the subject of
Lord Elmwood's departure a conversation he evi-
dently avoided himself; yet, every day, some new
preparation for his journey struck either the ear
or the eye of Miss Milner; and had she beheld a
trightful spectre, she could not have shuddered with
more horror, than when she unexpectedly passed
his large trunks in the hall, nailed and corded, ready
to be sent off to meet him at Venice. At the sight,
she flew from the company that chanced to be with
her, and stole to the first lonely corner of the house
to conceal her tears : she reclined her head upon
her hands, and bedewed them with the sudden an-
guish that had overcome her. She heard a footstep
advancing towards the spot where she hoped to have
been secreted ; she lifted up her eyes, and saw Lord
Elmwood. Pride was the first emotion his presence
inspired ; pride, which arose from the humility into
which she was plunged.
She looked at him earnestly, as if to imply, " What
now, my lord ? "
He only answered with a bow, which expressed,
"I beg your pardon," and immediately withdrew.
Thus each understood the other's language, with-
out either having uttered a word.
188 A SIMPLE STORY.
The just construction she put upon his looks and
manner upon this occasion kept up her spirits for
some little time; and she blessed Heaven for the
singular favour of showing to her, clearly, by this
accident his negligence of her sorrows, his total
indifference.
The next day was the eve of that on which he was
to depart of the day on which she was to bid adieu
to Dorriforth, to her guardian, to Lord Elm wood ;
to all her hopes at once.
The moment she awoke on Monday morning, the
recollection, that this was, perhaps, the last day she
was ever again to see him, softened all the resent-
ment his yesterday's conduct had raised : forgetting
his austerity, and all she had once termed cruelties,
she now only remembered his friendship, his tender-
ness, and his love. She was impatient to see him,
and promised herself, for this last day, to neglect
no one opportunity of being with him. For that
purpose she did not breakfast in her own room, as
she had done for several mornings before, but went
into the breakfast-room, where all the family in
geueral met. She was rejoiced on hearing his voice
as she opened the door ; yet the mere sound made
her tremble so much, that she could scarcely totter
to the table.
Miss Woodley looked at her as she entered, and
was never so shocked at seeing her ; for never had
she yet seen her look so ill. As she approached, she
made an inclination of her head to Mrs. Horton .
then to her guardian, as was her custom, when she
first saw them in a morning : he looked in her face
as he bowed in return, then fixed his eyes upon the
fire-place, rubbed his forehead, and began talking
with Mr. Sandford.
Sandford, during breakfast, by accident cast a
glance upon Miss Milner : his attention was caught
A SIMPLE STORY. 189
by her deathlike countenance,and he looked earnestly.
He then turned to Lord Elmwood, to see if he
was observing her appearance : he was not and so
much were her thoughts engaged on him alone, that
she did not once perceive Sandford gazing at her.
Mrs. Horton, after a little while, observed, " It
was a beautiful morning."
Lord Elmwood said, " He thought he heard it
rain in the night."
Sandford cried, " For his part he slept too well to
know." And then (unasked) held a plate with
biscuits to Miss Milner: it was the first civility he
had ever in his life offered her : she smiled at the
whimsicality of the circumstance, but she took one
in return for his attention. He looked grave beyond
his usual gravity, and yet not with his usual ill
temper. She did not eat what she had so politely
taken, but laid it down soon after.
Lord Elmwood was the first who rose from break-
fast, and he did not return to dinner.
At dinner Mrs. Horton said, " she hoped he
would, however, favour them with his company at
supper."
To which Sandford replied, " No doubt, for you
will hardly any of you see him in the morning; as
we shall be oft' by six, or soon after."
Sandford was not going abroad with Lord Elm-
wood, but was to go with him as far as Dover.
These words of his " not see Lord Elmwood in
the morning " (which conveyed the sense, never
again to see him after this evening) were like the
knell of death to Miss Milner. She felt the symp-
toms of fainting, and hurried by the dread of a swoon,
snatched from the hand of a servant a glass of water,
which Sandford had just then called for, and drauk
it hastily. As she returned the glass to the servant,
190 A SIMPLE STORY.
she began to apologize to Mr. Sandford but before
she could utter what she intended, he said, rather
kindly, " Never mind you are welcome : I am glad
you took it." She looked at him to observe whether
he had really spoken kindly, or ironically : but be-
fore his countenance could satisfy her, her thoughts
were called away from that trivial matter, and again
fixed upon Lord Elmwood.
The moments seemed tedious till he came home
to supper; and yet, when she reflected how short the
remainder of the evening would be after that time,
she wished to defer the hour of his return for
months. At ten o'clock he arrived ; and at half
after ten the family, without any visitor, met at
supper.
Miss Milner had considered, that the period for
her to counterfeit appearances was diminished now
to a most contracted one ; and she rigorously en-
joined herself not to shrink from the little which
remained. The certain end, that would be, so soon,
put to this painful deception, encouraged her to
struggle through it with redoubled zeal ; and this
was but necessary, as her weakness increased.
She therefore listened, she talked, and even smiled
with the rest of the company, nor did their vivacity
seem to arise from a much less compulsive source
than her own.
It was past twelve, when Lord Elmwood looked
at his watch, and rising from his chair, went up to
Mrs. Horton, and, taking her hand, said, " Till I see
you again, madam, I sincerely wish you every hap-
piness."
Miss Milner fixed her eyes upon the table before
her.
" My lord," replied Mrs. Horton, " I sincerely
wish you health and happiness likewise."
A SIMPLE STORY. 1 J> f
He then went to Miss Woodley, and, taking her
hand, repeated much the same as he had said to
Mrs. Horton.
Miss Milner now trembled beyond all power of
concealment.
" My lord," replied Miss Woodley, a good deal
affected, " 1 sincerely hope my prayers for your
happiness may be heard."
She and Mrs. Horton were both standing, as well
as Lord Elm wood ; but Miss Milner kept her seat,
till his eye was turned upon her, and he moved slow-
ly towards her : she then rose ; every one who was
present, attentive to what he would now say, and
how she would receive what he said, here cast their
eyes upon them, and listened with impatience.
They were ail disappointed : he did not utter a
syllable. Yet he took her hand, and held it closely
between his. He then bow ed most respectfully and
left her.
No sentence of, " I wish you well "I wish you
health and happiness ; no " prayers for blessings
on her ;" not even the word " farewel," escaped
his lips. Perhaps, to have attempted any of these
might have impeded his utterance.
She had behaved with fortitude the whole evening,
and she continued to do so, till the moment he turn-
ed away from her. Her eyes then overflowed with
tears ; and in the agony of her mind, not knowing
what she did, she laid her cold hand upon the person
next to her : it happened to be Sandford ; but not
observing it was he, she grasped his hand with vio-
lence ; yet he did not snatch it away, nor look at her
with his wonted severity. And thus she stood,
silent and motionless, while Lord Ehuwood, now at
the door, bowed once more to all the company, and
retired.
192 A SIMPLE STORY.
Sandford had still Miss Milner's hand fixed upon
his ; and when the door was shut after Lord Elm-
wood, he turned his head to look in her face, and
turned it with some marks of apprehension for the
grief he might find there. She strove to overcome
that grief, and, after a heavy sigh, sat down, as if
resigned to the fate to which she was decreed.
Instead of following Lord Elmwood, as usual,
Sandford poured out a glass of wine, and drank it.
A general silence ensued for near three minutes.
At last turning himself round on his chair towards
Miss Milner, who sat like a statue of despair at his
side, " Will you breakfast with us to-morrow ?"
said he.
She made no answer.
" We sha'n't breakfast before half after six," con-
tinued he, " I dare say ; and if you can rise so early
why do."
" Miss Milner," said Miss Woodley, (for she
caught eagerly at the hope of her passing this night
in less unhappiness than she had foreboded), " pray
rise at that hour to breakfast : Mr. Sandford would
not invite you, if he thought it would displease
Lord Elmwood."
" Not I," replied Sandford, churlishly.
" Then desire her maid to call her," said Mrs.
Horton to Miss Woodley.
" Nay, she will be awake, 1 have no doubt ;" re-
turned her niece.
" No," replied Miss Milner, " since Lord Elm-
wood has thought proper to take his leave of me,
without even speaking a word, by my own design
never will I see him again:" and her tears burst
forth, as if her heart burst at the same time.
" Why did not you speak to him ?" cried Sandford
" Pray did you bid him farewel 1 And I don't see
A SIMPLE STORY. 193
%
why one is not as much to be blamed in that respect
as the other."
" I was too weak to say I wished him happy,"
cried Miss Milner ; " but Heaven is my witness, I
do wish him so from my soul."
" And do you imagine he does not wish you so ?"
cried Sandford. "You should judge him by your
own heart : and what you feel for him, imagine he
feels for you, my dear.''
Though " my dear" is a trivial phrase, yet from
certain people, and upon certain occasions, it is a
phrase of infinite comfort and assurance. Mr. Sand-
ford seldom said " my dear" to any one to Miss
Milner never; and upon this occasion and from
him, it was an expression most precious.
She turned to him with a look of gratitude : but
as she only looked, and did not speak, he rose up,
and soon after said, with a friendly tone he had sel-
dom used in her presence, " I sincerely wish you a
good night."
As soon as he was gone, Miss Milner exclaimed,
" However my fate may have been precipitated by
the unkindness of Mr. Sandford, yet, for that par-
ticle of concern which he has shown for me this
evening, I will always be grateful to him."
" Aye," cried Mrs. Horton, "good Mr. Sandford
may show his kindness now, without any danger
from its consequences. Now Lord Elm wood is
going away for ever, he is not afraid of your seeing
him once again." And she thought she praised him
by this suggestion.
VOL, XXVIII.
194 A SIMPLE STORY,
CHAPTER XXIX.
When Miss Milner retired to her bedchamber, Miss
Woodley went with her, nor would leave her the
whole night ; but in vain did she persuade her to
rest, she absolutely refused ; and declared she would
never, from that hour, indulge repose. " The part
I undertook to perform," cried she, " is over : I
will now, for my whole life, appear in my own cha-
racter, and give a loose to the anguish 1 endure."
As daylight showed itself " And yet I might see
him once again," said she ; " I might see him
within these two hours, if I pleased, for Mr. Sand-
ford invited me."
" If you think, my dear Miss Milner," said Misy
Woodley, " that a second parting from Lord Elm-
wood would but give you a second agony, in the
name of Heaven do not see him any more ; but if
you hope your mind would be easier, were you to
bid each other adieu in a more direct manner than
you did last night, let us go down and breakfast
with him. I'll go before, and prepare him for your
reception you shall not surprise him and 1 will
let him know, it is by Mr. Sandford's invitation you
are coming."
She listened with a smile to this proposal, yet
objected to the indelicacy of her wishing to see him,
after he had taken his leave; but as Miss Woodley
perceived that she was inclined to infringe this
delicacy, of which she had so proper a sense, she
easily persuaded her it was impossible for the most
suspicious person (and Lord Elmwood was far from
such a character) to suppose that the paying him
a visit at that period of time could be with the most
distant imagination of regaining his heart, or of
altering one resolution he had taken.
A SIMPLE STORY. 195
But though Miss Milner acquiesced in this opi-
nion, yet she had not the courage to form the de-
termination that she would go.
Daylight now no longer peeped, but stared upon
them. Miss Milner went to the looking-glass,
breathed upon her hands and rubbed them on her
eyes, smoothed her hair and adjusted her dress ; yet
said, after all, " 1 dare not see him again."
" You may do as you please," said Miss Woodley
" but I will. I that have lived for so many years
under the same roof with him, and on the most
friendly terms, and he going away, perhaps for these
ten years, perhaps for ever, I should think it a dis-
respect not to see him to the last moment of his
remaining in the house."
" Then do you go,'' said Miss Milner, eagerly ;
" and if he should ask for me, 1 will gladly come,
you know ; but if he does not ask for me, I will not
and pray don't deceive me."
Miss Woodley promised her not to deceive her ;
and soon after, as they heard the servants pass about
the house, and the clock had struck six, Miss Wood-
ley went to the breakfast-room.
She found Lord Elmwood there in his travelling
dress, standing pensively by the fire-place and, as
he did not dream of seeing her, he started when
she entered, and, with an appearance of alarm, said,
"Dear Miss Woodley, what's the matter?" She
replied, " Nothing, my lord ; but I could not be
satisfied without seeing your lordship once again,
while I had it in my power."
"I thank you," he returned with a sigh the
heaviest and most intelligent sigh she ever heard
him condescend to give. She imagined, also, that
he looked as if he wished to ask how Miss Milner
did, but would not allow himself the indulgence.
She was half inclined to mention her to him, and
s 2
190 A SIMPLE STORY.
was debating in her mind whether she should or not,
when Mr. Sandford came into the room, saying, as
he entered,
" For Heaven's sake, my lord, where did you
sleep last night?"
" Why do you ask 1 " said he.
" Because," replied Sandford, " I went into your
bedchamber just now, and I found your bed made.
You have not slept there to-night."
" I have slept no where," returned he : "I could
not sleep ; and having some papers to look over,
and to set off early, I thought I might as well not go
to bed at all."
Miss Woodley was pleased at the frank manner
in which he made this confession, and could not
resist the strong impulse to say, " You have done
just then, my lord, like MissMilner ; for she has not
been in bed the whole night."
Miss Woodley spoke this in a negligent manner,
and yet Lord Elmwood echoed back the words
with solicitude, " Has not Miss Milner been in bed
the whole night ? "
" If she is up, why does not she come to take
some coffee 1 " said Sandford, as he began to pour
it out.
" If she thought it would be agreeable," returned
Miss Woodley, " I dare say she would." And she
looked at Lord Elmwood while she spoke, though
she did not absolutely address him ; but he made
no reply.
" Agreeable !" returned Sandford, angrily : " Has
she then a quarrel with any body here? Or does she
suppose any body here bears enmity to her ? Is
she not in peace and charity ? "
" Yes," replied Miss Woodley ; " that I am sure
she is."
" Then bring her hither," cried Sandford, " di-
A SIMPLE STORY. 197
rectly. Would she have the wickedness to imagine
we are not all friends with her?"
Miss SVoodley left the room, and found Miss
Milner almost in despair, lest she should hear Lord
Elmwood's carriage drive off before her friend's
return.
" Did he send for me ? " were the words she ut-
tered as soon as she saw her.
" Mr. Sandford did, in his presence," returned
Miss Woodley ; " and you may go with the utmost
decorum, or 1 would not tell you so."
She required no protestations of this, but readily
followed her beloved adviser, whose kindness never
appeared in so amiable a light as at that moment.
On entering the room, through all the dead white
of her present complexion, she blushed to a crimson.
Lord Elmwood rose from his seat, and brought a
chair for her to sit down.
Sandford looked at her inquisitively, sipped his
tea, and said, "He never made tea to his own
liking."
Miss Milner took a cup, but had scarcely strength
to hold it.
It seemed but a very short time they were at break-
fast, when the carriage, that was to take Lord Elm-
wood away, drove to the door. Miss Milner started
at the sound : so did he : but she had nearly dropped
her cup and saucer ; on which Sandford took them
out of her hand, saying,
" Perhaps you had rather have coffee V
Her lips moved, but he could not hear what she
said.
A servant came in, and told Lord Elmwood, " The
carriage was at the door."
He replied, " Very well." But though he had
breakfasted, he did not attempt to move,
s 3
193 A SIMPLE STORY.
At last, rising briskly, as if it was necessary to go
in haste when he did go, he took up his hat, which
he had brought with him into the room, and was
turning to Miss Woodley to take his leave, when
Sandford cried, " My lord, you are in a great
hurry." And then, as if he wished to give poor
Miss Milner every moment he could, added (look-
ing about), " I don't know where I have laid my
gloves."
Lord Elrawood, after repeating to Miss Woodley
his last night's farewel, now went up to Miss Milner,
and taking one of her hands, again held it between
his, but still without speaking ; while she, unable
to suppress her tears as heretofore, suffered them to
fall in torrents.
" What is all this ? " cried Sandford, going up to
them in anger.
They neither of them replied, or changed their
situation.
" Separate this moment," cried Sandford, " or
resolve to be separated only by death."
The commanding and awful manner in which he
spoke this sentence, made them both turn to him
in amazement, and, as it were, petrified with the
sensation his words had caused.
He left them for a moment, and going to a small
bookcase in one corner of the room, took out of it
a book, and, returning with it in his hand, said,
" Lord Elmwood, do you love this woman ? "
" More than my life," he replied, with the most
heartfelt accents.
He then turned to Miss Milner: " Can you say
the same by him 1 "
She spread her hands over her eyes, and ex-
claimed, " Oh, Heavens !"
" I believe you can say so," returned Saudford ;
A SIMPLE STORY. li>9
" and in the name of God, and your own happiness,
since this is the state of you both, let me put it out
of your power to part."
Lord Elmwood gazed at him with wonder, and
yet as if enraptured by the sudden change this con-
duct gave to his prospects.
She sighed with a kind of trembling ecstacy ;
while Sandford with all the dignity of his official
character, delivered these words :
" My lord, while I thought my counsel might
save you from the worst of misfortunes, conjugal
strife, 1 importuned you hourly, and set forth your
danger in the light it appeared to me. But though
old, and a priest, I can submit to think I have been
in an error : and I now firmly believe it is for the
welfare of you both to become man and wife. My
lord, take this woman's marriage vows you can ask
no fairer promises of her reform she can give you
none half so sacred, half so binding ; and I see by
her looks that she will mean to keep them. And,
my dear," continued he, addressing himself to her,
" act but under the dominion of those vows towards
a husband of sense and virtue, like him, and you will
be all that I, himself, or even Heaven can desire.
Now, then, Lord Elmwood, this moment give her
up for ever, or this moment constrain her with the
rites which I shall perform, by such ties from offend-
ing you, as she shall not dare to violate."
Lord Elmwood struck his forehead in doubt and
agitation ; but, still holding her hand, he cried, " I
cannot part from her." Then feeling this reply as
equivocal, he fell upon his knees, and said, " Will
you pardon my hesitation ? And will you, in mar-
riage, show me that tender love you have not shown
me yet? Will you, in possessing all my affections,
bear with all my infirmities ?"
She raised him from her feet, and bv the ex-
200 A SIMPLE STORY.
pression of her countenance, by the tears that bathed
his hands, gave him confidence.
He turned to Sandford ; then placing her by his
own side, as the form of matrimony requires, gave
this for a sign to Sandford that he should begin the
ceremony. . On which he opened his book, and
married them.
With voice and manners so serious, so solemn, and
so fervent, he performed these holy rites, that every
idea of jest, or even of lightness, was absent from
the mind of the whole party present.
Miss Milner, covered with shame, sunk on the
bosom of Miss Woodley.
When the ring was wanting, Lord Elmwood sup-
plied it with one from his own hand ; but through-
out all the rest of the ceremony he appeared lost in
zealous devotion to Heaven. Yet, no sooner was it
finished, than his thoughts descended to this world.
He embraced his bride with all the transport of
the fondest, happiest bridegroom, and in raptures
called her by the endearing name of " wife."
" But still, my lord," cried Sandford, " you are
only married by your own church and conscience,
not by your wife's, or by the law of the land ; and
let me advise you not to defer that marriage long,
lest in the time you should disagree, and she refuse
to become your legal spouse."
" I think there is danger," returned Lord Elm-
wood, " and therefore our second marriage must
take place to-morrow."
To this the ladies objected ; and Sandford was to
fix their second wedding-day, as he had done their
first. He, after consideration, gave them four days.
Miss Woodley then recollected (for every one
else had forgot it) that the carriage was still at the
door to convey Lord Elmwood far away. . It was of
course dismissed : and one of those great incidents
A SIMPLE STORY. 201
of delight which Miss Milner that morning tasted,
was to look out of the window, and see this very
carriage drive from the door unoccupied.
Never was there a more rapid change from de-
spair to happiness to happiness perfect and su-
preme than was that, which Miss Milner and Lord
Elmwood experienced in one single hour.
The few days that intervened hetween this and
their second marriage were passed in the delightful
care of preparing for that happy day ; yet, with
all its delights, inferior to the first, when every unex-
pected joy was doubled by the once expected sorrow.
Nevertheless, on that first wedding-day, that joy-
ful day, which restored her lost lover to her hopes
again ; even on that very day, after the sacred cere-
mony was over, Miss Milner (with all the fears,
the tremors, the superstition of her sex) felt an
excruciating shock, when, looking on the ring Lord
Elmwood had put upon her finger, in haste, when he
married her, she perceived it was a mourning ring.
END OF BOOK THE FIRST.
CHAPTER XXX.
Not any event throughout life can arrest the re-
flection of a thoughtful mind more powerfully, or
leave amore lasting impression, than thatof returning
to a place after a few years absence, and observing
an entire alteration, in respect to all the persons
who once formed the neighbourhood. To find that
many, who but a few years before were left in their
bloom of youth and health, arc dead to lind that
20*2 A SIMPLE STORY.
children left at school, are married and have children
of their own that some, who were left in riches,
are reduced to poverty that others, who were in
poverty, are become rich; to find those once re-
nowned for virtue, now detested for vice roving
husbands grown constant constant husbands be-
come rovers the firmest friends changed to the
most implacable enemies beauty faded ; in a
word, every change to demonstrate, that
" All is transitory on this side the grave."
Guided by a wish, that the reflecting reader may
experience the sensation, which an attention to cir-
cumstances like these must excite, he is desired to
imagine seventeen years elapsed since he has seen
or heard of any of those persons who, in the fore-
going part of this narrative, have been introduced to
his acquaintance; and then, supposing himself at
the period of those seventeen years, follow the sequel
of their history.
To begin with the first female object of this story :
The beautiful, the beloved Miss Milner she is no
longer beautiful no longer beloved no longer
tremble while you read it ! no longer virtuous.
Dorriforth, the pious, the good, the tender Dor-
riforth, is become a hard -hearted tyrant ; the com-
passionate, the feeling, the just Lord Elmwood, an
example of implacable rigour and injustice.
Miss Woodley is grown old, but less with years
than grief.
The boy, Rushbrook, is become a man; and the
apparent heir of Lord Elmwood's fortune ; while
his own daughter, his only child by his once-adored
Miss Milner, he refuses ever to see again, in ven-
geance to her mother's crimes.
The least wonderful change is, the death of Mrs.
Horton. Except
Sandford, who remains much the same as here-
tofore.
A SIMPLE STORY. 203
We left Lady Elmwood at the summit of human
happiness a loving; and heloved bride. We now
rind her upon her death-bed.
At thirty-five, her " course was run ; " a course
full of perils, of hopes, of fears, of joys, and, at the
end, of sorrows all exquisite of their kind, for ex-
quisite were the feelings of her susceptible heart.
At the commencement of this story, her father is
described in the last moments of his life, with all his
cares fixed upon her, his only child. How vain these
cares ! how vain every precaution that was taken for
her welfare ! She kuows, she reflects upon this ;
and yet, impelled by that instinctive power which
actuates a parent, Lady Elmwood on her dying day
has no worldly thoughts, but that of the future hap-
piness of an only child. To every other prospect in
iier view, " Thy will be done !" is her continual ex-
clamation ; but where the misery of her daughter
presents itself, the expiring penitent would there
combat the will of Heaven.
To detail the progression by which vice gains
a predominancy in the heart, may be a useful
lesson ; but it is one so little to the gratification
of most readers, that the degrees of misconduct,
by which Lady Elmwood fell are not meant to
be related here ; but instead of picturing every
occasion of her fall, to come briefly to the events
that followed.
There are, nevertheless, some articles under the
former class, which ought not to be entirely omitted.
Lord Elmwood after four years enjoyment of
the most perfect happiness that marriage could give,
after becoming the father of a beautiful daughter,
whom he loved with a tenderness almost equal to his
love of her mother -was under the indispensable
necessity of leaving them both for a time, in order
to rescue from the depredation of his own steward,
his very large estates in the West Indies. His voyage
204 A SIMPLE STORY.
was tedious ; his residence there, from various ac-
cidents, was prolonged from time to time, till near
three years had at length passed away. Lady Elm-
wood, at first only unhappy, became at last pro-
voked ; and giving way to that irritable disposition
which she had so seldom governed, resolved, in
spite of his injunctions, to divert the melancholy
hours caused by his absence, by mixing in the gay
circles of London.
Lord Elmwood at this time, and for many months
before, had been detained abroad by a severe and
dangerous illness, which a too cautious fear of her
uneasiness had prompted him to conceal : and she
received his frequent apologies for not returning,
with a suspicion and resentment they were calcu-
lated, but not intended, to inspire.
To violent anger succeeded a degree of indiffer-
ence still more fatal. Lady Elmwood's heart was not
formed for such a state : there, where all the tu-
multuous passions harboured by turns, one among
them, soon found the means to occupy all vacancies;
a passion, commencing innocently, but terminating
in guilt. The dear object of her fondest, her
truest affections, absent, far off; those affections
painted the time so irksome that was past, so weari-
some that which was still to come, that she flew
from the present tedious solitude to the dangerous
society of one whose mind, depraved by fashionable
vices, could not repay her for a moment's loss of
him, whose felicity she destroyed, whose dishonour
she accomplished. Or, if the delirium gave her a
moment's recompence, what were her sufferings,
her remorse, when she was awakened from the fleet-
ing joy, by the arrival of her husband ! Happy,
transporting, would have been that arrival but a few
months sooner! As it would then have been un-
bounded happiness, it was now but language affords
no word that can describeLadyElmwood's sensations,
A SIMPLE STORY. 205
on being told her lord was arrived, and that necessity
alone had so long delayed his return.
Guilty, but not hardened in her guilt, her pangs,
her shame, were the more excessive. She fled from
the place at his approach ; fled from his house, never
again to return to a habitation where he was the
master. She did not, however, elope with her para-
mour, but escaped to shelter herself in the most
dreary retreat ; where she partook of no one comfort
from society, or from life, but the still unremitting
friendship of Miss Woodley. Even her infant
daughter she left behind, nor would allow herself
the consolation of her innocent, though reproachful,
smiles. She left her in her father's house, that she
might be under his virtuous protection ; parted with
her, as she thought, for ever, with all the agonies
with which mothers part from their infant children :
and yet, those agonies were still more poignant, on
beholding the child sent after her, as the perpetual
outcast of its father.
Lord Elmwood's love to his wife had been extra-
vagant : the effect of his hate was the same. Be-
holding himself separated from her by a barrier not
ever to be removed, he vowed, in the deep torments
of his revenge, never to be reminded of her by one
individual object; much less, by one so near to her
as her child. To bestow upon that child his affec-
tions, would be, he imagined, still, in some sort, to
divide them with the mother. Firm in his resolu-
tion, the beautiful Matilda was, at the age of six
years, sent out of her father's house ; and received
by her mother with all the tenderness, but with all
the anguish, of those parents, who behold their
offspring visited by the punishment due only to
their own offences.
While this rigid act was executing by Lord Elm-
wood's agents at his command, himself was engaged
VOL. XXVIII. T
206 A SIMPLE STORY.
in an. affair of still weightier importance- -that of
life or death. He determined upon his own death,
or the death of the man who had wounded his ho-
nour and destroyed his happiness. A duel with his
old antagonist was the result of this determination :
nor was the Duke of Avon (who before the decease
of his father and eldest brother was Lord Frederick
Lawnley) averse from giving him all the satisfaction
he required ; for it was no, other than he, whose
passion for Lady Elm wood had still subsisted, and
whose address in gallantry left no means unattempted
for the success of his designs no other than he
(who, next to Lord Elmwood, had been of all her
lovers the most favoured) to whom Lady Elmwood
sacrificed her own and her husband's future peace,
and thus gave to his vanity a prouder triumph than
if she had never bestowed her hand in marriage on
another. This triumph, however, was but short : a
month only, after the return of Lord Elmwood, the
duke was called upon to answer for his guilt, and
was left on the ground where they met, so defaced
with scars, as never again to endanger the honour
of a husband. As Lord Elmwood was inexorable to
all accommodation, their engagement had continued
for a long space of time ; nor could any thing but
the assurance that his opponent was slain have at
last torn him from the field, though himself was
dangerously wounded.
Yet even during the period of his danger, while
for days he lay in the continual expectation of his
own dissolution, not all the entreaties of his dearest,
most intimate, and most respected friends, could
prevail upon him to pronounce forgiveness of his
wife ; or to suffer them to bring his daughter to
him, for his last blessing.
Lady Elmwood, who was made acquainted with
the minutest circumstance as it passed, appeared to
A SIMPLE STORY. '207
wait the news of her husband's decease with pati^
once : but upon her brow and in every lineament of
her face was marked, that his death was an event
she would not for a day survive; and she would have
left her child an orphan, in such a case, to have fol-
lowed Lord Elmwood to the tomb. She was pre-
vented the trial: he recovered ; and from the ample
vengeance he had obtained upon the irresistible
person of the duke, he seemed, in a short time, to
regain his tranquillity.
He recovered, but Lady Elmwood fell sick and
languished. Possessed of youth to struggle with
her woes, she still lingered on, till near ten years
decline had brought her to that period, with which
the reader is now to be presented.
CHAPTER XXXI.
In a lonely country on the borders of Scotland, a
single house by the side of a dreary heath, was the
residence of the once gay, volatile Miss Milner. In
a lame gloomy apartment of this solitarv habitation
( the windows of which scarcely rendered the light ac-
cessible) was laid upon her death-bed, the once lovely
Lady Elmwood pale, half-suffocated from the loss
of breath; yet hersenses perfectly clearand collected,
which served but to sharpen the anguish of dying.
In one corner of the room, by the side of an old-
fashioned settee, kneels MissWoodley, praying most
devoutly for her still beloved friend, but in vain en-
deavouring to pray composedly : floods of tears pour
down her furrowed cheeks, and frequent sobs of
sorrow break through each pious ejaculation.
(lose by her mother's side, one hand supporting
her head, the other drving from her face the cold
T 2
208 A SIMPLE STORY.
dew of death, behold Lady Elmwood's daughter-
Lord Elrawood's daughter too ; yet he is far away,
negligent of what either suffers. Lady Elmwood
turns to her often and attempts an embrace, but her
feeble arms forbid, and they fall motionless. The
daughter, perceiving these ineffectual efforts, has
her whole face convulsed with grief: she kisses her
mother ; holds her to her bosom ; and hangs upon
her neck, as if she wished to cling there, not to be
parted even by the grave.
On the other side of the bed sits Sandford, his
hairs grown white, his face wrinkled with age,
his heart the same as ever the reprover, the enemy
of the vain, the idle, and the wicked, but the friend
and comforter of the forlorn and miserable.
Upon those features where sarcasm, reproach, and
anger dwelt, to threaten and alarm the sinner, mild-
ness, tenderness, and pity beamed, to support and
console the penitent. Compassion changed his lan-
guage, and softened all those harsh tones that used
to denounce perdition.
" In the name of God," said he to Lady Elmwood,
" of that God, who suffered for you, and, suffering,
knew and pitied all our weaknesses by Him, who
has given his word to take compassion on the sinner's
tears, I bid you hope for mercy. By that innocence
in which you once lived, be comforted ; by the sor-
rows you have known since your degradation, hope,
that in some measure, at least, you have atoned ;
by the sincerity that shone upon your youthful face
when I joined your hand, and those thousand virtues
you have since given proofs of, trust, that you were
not born to die the death of the wicked."
As he spoke these words of consolation, her
trembling hand clasped his her dying eyes darted
a ray of brightness but her failing voice endeavour
ed in vain to articulate. At length, fixing her looks
A SIMPLE STORY. 209
upon her daughter as their last dear object, she was
just understood to utter the word, " Father."
" I understand \on," replied Sandford, " and hy
all that influence I ever had over him, hy my prayers,
my tears," and they flowed as he spoke, " I will
implore him to own his child."
She could now only smile in thanks.
" And if I should fail," continued he, "yet while
I live she shall not want a friend or protector all
an old man, like me, can answer for" here his
grief interrupted him.
Lady Elmwood was sufficiently sensihle of his
words and their import, to make a sign as if she
wished to cmhrace him; but, finding her life leaving
her fast, she reserved this last token of love for her
daughter : with a struggle she lifted herself from
her pillow, clung to her child, and died in her
arms.
CHAPTER XXXII.
Lord Elmwood was by nature, and more from
educatiou, of a serious, thinking, and philosophic
turn of mind. His religious studies had completely
taught him to consider this world but as a passage to
another ; to enjoy with gratitude what Heaven in its
bounty should bestow, and to bear with submission
whatever in its vengeance it might inflict. In a
greater degree than most people he practised this
doctrine : and as soon as the shock which he re-
ceived from Lady Elmwood's infidelity was abated,
an entire calmness and resignation ensued ; but still
of that sensible and feeling kind, that could never
suffer him to forget the happiness he had lost: and
it was ^is sensibility which ursred him to fly from
t :3
210 A SIMPLE STORY.
its more keen recollection ; and which he avowed as
the reason why he would never permit Lady Elm-
wood, or even her child, to be named in his hearing.
But this injunction (which all his friends, and even
the servants in the house who attended his person,
had received,) was, by many people, suspected rather
to proceed from his resentment, than his tenderness :
nor did he deny that resentment co-operated with
his prudence ; for prudence he called it, not to re-
mind himself of happiness he could never taste again,
and of ingratitude that might impel him to hatred :
and prudence he called it, not to form another at-
tachment near to his heart, more especially so near
as a parent's, which might again expose him to all
the torments of ingratitude, from an object whom
he affectionately loved.
Upon these principles he adopted the unshaken
resolution, never to acknowledge Lady Matilda as
his child ; or, acknowledging her as such, never to
see, to hear of, or take one concern whatever in her
fate and fortune. The death of her mother appeared
a favourable time, had he been so inclined, to have
recalled this declaration which he had solemnly and
repeatedly made. She was now destitute of the pro-
tection of her other parent, and it became his duty,
at least, to provide her a guardian, if he did not
choose to take that tender title upon himself: but
to mention either the mother or child to Lord Elm-
wood was an equal offence, and prohibited in the
strongest terms to all his friends and household ;
aud as he was an excellent good master, a sincere
friend, and a most generous patron, not one of his
acquaintance or dependents was hardy enough to
incur his certain displeasure, which was always
violent to excess, by even the official intelligence of
Lady Elmwood's death.
Sandford himself, intimidated through age, or by
A SIMPLE STORY. 211
the austere and morose manners which Lord Elm-
wood had of late years evinced Sandford wished,
if possible, that some other would undertake the
dangerous task of recalling to iiis memory there
ever was such a person as his wife. He advised Miss
Woodley to write a proper letter to him on the sub-
ject ; but she reminded him, that such a step would
be more perilous to her than to any other person,
as she was the most destitute being on earth, with-
out the benevolence of Lord Elm wood. The death
of her aunt, Mrs. Hortou, had left her solely relying
on the bounty of Lady Elmwood, and now her death
had left her totally dependent upon the earl ; for
Lady Elmwood, though she had separate effects, had
long before her demise declared it was not her in-
tention to leave a sentence behind her in the form
of a will. She had no will, she said, but what she
would wholly submit to Lord Elmwood's ; and, if it
were even his will that her child should live in
poverty, as well as banishment, it should be so.
But, perhaps, in this implicit submission to him,
there was a distant hope, that the necessitous situa-
tion of his daughter might plead more forcibly than
his parental love : and that knowing her bereft of
every support but through himself, that idea might
form some Utile tie between them, and be at least a
token of the relationship.
But as Lady Elmwood anxiously wished this prin-
ciple upon which she acted should be concealed
from his suspicion, she included her friend, Miss
Woodley, in the same fate ; and thus the only per-
sons dear to her she left, but at Lord Elmwood's
pleasure, to be preserved from perishing in want.
Her child was too young to advise her on this sub-
ject, her friend too disinterested ; and at this moment
they were both without the smallest means of sub-
sistence, except through the justice or compassion
212 A SIMPLE STORY.
of Lord Elmwood. Sandford had, indeed, promised
his protection to the daughter; but his liberality
had no other source than from his patron, with
whom he still lived as usual, except during part of
the winter, when the earl resided in town : he then
mostly stole a visit to Lady Elmwood. On this last
visit he staid to see her buried.
After some mature deliberations, Sandford was
now preparing to go to Lord Elmwood, at his house
in town, and there to deliver himself the news that
must sooner or later be told ; and he meant also to
venture, at the same time, to keep the promise he
had made to his dying lady. But the news reached
his lordship before Sandford arrived: it was an-
nounced in the public papers, and by that means
first came to his knowledge.
He was breakfasting by himself, when the news-
paper that first gave the intelligence of Lady Elm-
wood's death was laid before him. The paragraph
contained these words :
" On Wednesday last died, at Dring Park, a
village in Northumberland, the right honourable
Countess Elmwood. This lady, who has not been
heard of for many years in the fashionable world,
was a rich heiress, and of extreme beauty ; but
although she received overtures from many men of
the first rank, she preferred her guardian, the pre-
sent Lord Elmwood (then Mr. Dorriforth) to them
all : and it is said their marriage was followed by an
uncommon share of felicity, till his lordship, going
abroad, and- remaining there some time, the conse-
quences (to a most captivating young woman left
without a protector) were such as to cause a separa-
tion on his return. Her ladyship has left one child
by the earl, a daughter, aged fifteen." .
Lord Elmwood had so much feeling upon reading
this, as to lay down the paper, and not take it up
A SIMPLE STORY. 213
again for several minutes : nor did he taste his cho-
colate during this interval, but leaned his elbow on
the table and rested his head upon his hand. He
then rose up walked two or three times across the
room sat down again took up the paper and
read as usual. Nor let the vociferous mourner, or
the perpetual weeper, here complain of his want of
sensibility ; but let them remember that Lord Elm-
wood was a man a man of understanding of cou-
rage of fortitude above all, a man of the nicest
feelings : and who shall say, but that at the time he
leaned his. head upon his hand, and rose to walk
away the sense of what he felt, he might not feel as
much as Lady Elmwood did in her last moments ?
Be this as it may, his susceptibility on the occa-
sion was not suspected by any one yet he passed
that day the same as usual ; the next day too, and
the day after. On the morning of the fourth, he
sent for his steward to his study, and after talking of
other business, said to him,
" Is it true that Lady Elmwood is dead ? "
" It is, my lord."
His lordship looked unusually grave, and at this
reply fetched an involuntary sigh.
" Mr. Sandford, my lord," continued the steward,
" sent me word of the news, but left it to my own,
discretion, whether I would make your lordship ac-
quainted with it or not: I let him know I declined."
" Where is Sandford T asked Lord Elmwood.
" He was with my lady," replied the steward.
" When she died V asked he.
" Yes, my lord."
"lam glad of it : he will see that every thing she
desired is done. Sandford is a good man, and would
be a friend to every body."
" He is a very good man indeed, my lord."
There was now a silence. Mr. Giftard then,
214 A SIMPLE STORY.
bowing, said " Has your lordship any further com-
mands 1 "
" Write to Sandfbrd," said Lord Elmwood, hesi-
tating as he spoke, " and tell him to have every
thing performed as she desired. And whoever she
may have selected for the guardian of her child has
my consent to act as such ; nor in one instance,
where I myself am not concerned, shall I oppose
her will." The tears rushed into his eyes as he said
this, and caused them to start in the steward's :
observing which, he sternly resumed,
" Do not suppose from this conversation, that aiiv
of those resolutions I have long since taken are or
will be changed : they are the same, and shall con-
tinue inflexible."
" I understand you, my lord," replied Mr.Giffard,
" and that your express orders to me, as well as to
every other person, remain just the same as formerly,
never to mention this subject to you again."
" They do, sir."
" My lord, I always obeyed you, and I hope 1
always shall."
" I hope so too," he replied in a threatening
accent. "Write to Sandford," continued he, "to
let him know my pleasure, and that is all you have
to do."
The steward bowed and withdrew.
But before his letter arrived to Sandford, Sand-
ford arrived in town ; and Mr. Giffard related, word
for word, what had passed between him and his
lord. Upon every occasion, and upon every topic,
except that of Lady Elmwood and her child, Sand-
ford was just as free with Lord Elmwood as he had
ever been; and as usual (after his interview with the
steward) went into his apartment without any previ-
ous notice. Lord Elmwood shook him by the hand,
as upon all other meetings ; and yet, whether his
A SIMPLE STORY. 215
fear suggested it or not, Sandford thought he ap-
peared more cool and reserved with him than for-
merly.
During the whole day, the slightest mention of
Lady Elniwood, or of her child, was cautiously
avoided ; and not till the evening, after Sandford
had risen to retire, and had wished Lord Elmwood
uod night, did he dare to mention the subject.
He then, after taking leave, and going to the door,
turned back and said, " My lord"
It was easy to guess on what he was preparing to
speak : his voice failed, the tears began to trickle
down his cheeks, he took out ins handkerchief, and
could proceed no farther.
" i thought," said Lord Elmwood, angrily, " 1
thought I had given my orders upon the subject :
did not my steward write them to you ?"
" He did, my lord," said Sandford, humbly ;
" but I was set out before they arrived."
" Has he not told you my mind, then ?" cried he,
more angrily still.
" He has," replied Sandford " But"'-
" But what, sir?" cried Lord Elmwood.
" Your lordship," continued Sandford, " was
mistaken in supposing that Lady Elmwood left a
will. She left none."
" No will! no will at all!" returned he, sur-
prised.
" No, my lord," answered Sandford: " she wish-
ed every thing to be as you willed.
" She left me all the trouble, then, you mean?"
" No great trouble, sir; for there are but two
persons whom she has left behind her, to hope for
your protection."
" And who are those two?" cried he hastily.
" One, my lord, I need not name : the other is
Miss Woodley."
216 A SIMPLE STORY.
There was a delicacy and humility in the manner
in which Sandford delivered this reply, that Lord
Elmwood could not resent, and he only returned,
" Miss Woodley- is she yet living?"
" She is : I left her at the house I came from."
" Well then," answered he, " you must see that
my steward provides for those two persons. That
care I leave to you ; and should there be any com-
plaints, on you they fall."
Sandford bowed, and was going.
" And now," resumed Lord Elmwood, in a more
stern voice, " let me never hear again on this sub-
ject. You have here the power to act in regard
to the persons you have mentioned ; and upon you
their situation, the care, the whole management of
them depends ; but be sure you never let them be
named before me, from this moment."
" Then," said Sandford, " as this must be the
last time they are mentioned, I must now take the
opportunity to disburden my mind of a charge " -
" What charge V cried Lord Elmwood, morosely
interrupting him.
" Though Lady Elmwood, my lord, left no will
behind her, she left a request."
" A request!" said he starting " If it is for
me to see her daughter, I tell you now before you
ask, that I will not grant it ; for by Heaven (and he
spoke and looked most solemnly), though I have no
resentment against the innocent child, and wish her
happy, yet I will never see her. Never, for her
mother's sake, suffer my heart again to be softened
by an object I might doat upon. Therefore, sir, if
that is the request, it is already answered : my will
is fixed."
" The request, my lord," replied Sandford, (and
he took out a pocket-book from whence he drew
several papers), " is contained in this letter ; nor do
A SIMPLE STORY. 2L>7
I rightly know what its contents are." And he held
it, timorously, out to him.
"Is it Lady Elmwood's writing?" asked Lord
Elmwood, extremely discomposed.
" It is, my lord : she wrote it a few days before
she died, and enjoined me to deliver it to you with
my own hands."
" I refuse to read it;" cried he, putting it from
him ; and trembling while he did so.
" She desired me," said Sandford, (still present-
ing the letter), " to conjure you to read it -for her
father s sake."
Lord Elmwood took it instantly. But as soon as
it was in his hand, he seemed distressed to know
what he should do with it ; in what place to go and
read it ; or how to fortify himself against its con-
tents. He appeared ashamed too, that he had been
so far prevailed upon, and said, by way of excuse,
" For Mr. Milner's sake 1 would do much ; nay,
any thing, but that to which I have just now sworn
never to consent. For his sake I have borne a great
deal : for his sake alone, his daughter died my wife.
You know, no other motive than respect for him
prevented my divorce. Pray (and he hesitated), was
she buried by him ? "
" No, my lord : she expressed no such desire ;
and as that was the case, I did not think it necessary
to carry the corpse so far."
At the word corpse, Lord Elmwood shrunk, and
looked shocked beyond measure but, recovering
himself, said, " I am sorry for it ; for he loved her
sincerely, if she did not love him and I wish they
had been buried together."
" It is not, then, too late," said Sandford, and was
going on but the other interrupted him.
" No, no we will have no disturbing of the
dead."
VOL. XXVIII. U
218 A SIMPLE STORY.
" Read her letter, then," said Sandford, '' and
bid her rest in peace.''
" If it is in my power," returned he, " to grant
what she asks, I will ; but if her demand is what I
apprehend, I cannot, I will not, bid her rest by com
plying. You know my resolution, my disposition,
and take care how you provoke me. You may do
an injury to the very person you are seeking to
befriend : the very maintenance I mean to allow her
daughter I can withdraw."
Poor Sandford, all alarmed at this menace, re-
plied with energy, " My lord, uuless you begin the
subject, I never shall presume to mention it again."
" I take you at your word ; and in consequence of
that, but of that alone, we are friends. Good night,
sir."
Sandford bowed with humility, and they went to
f.icir separate bed-chambers.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
After Lord Elmwoodhad retired into his chamber,
it was some time before he read the letter Sandford
had given him. He first walked backwards and
forwards in the room : he then began to take off
some part of his dress, but he did it slowly. At
length, he dismissed his valet, and, sitting down,
took the letter from his pocket. He looked at the
seal, but not at the direction ; for he seemed to
dread seeing Lady Elmwood's hand-writing. He
then laid it on the table, and begau again to undress.
He did not proceed, but, taking up the letter quickly
(with a kind of effort in making the resolution),
broke it open. These were its contents :
A SIMPLE STORY. 219
" MY LORD,
" Who writes this letter I well know I well know
to whom it is addressed I feel with the most
powerful force both our situations ; nor should I
dare to offer you even this humble petition, but that
at the time you receive it there will be no such
person as I am in existence.
" For myself, then, all concern will be over : but
there is a care that pursues me to the grave, and
threatens my want of repose even there.
" I leave a child : I will not call her mine that
has undone her : I will not call her yours that will
be of no avail. I present her before you as the
grand-daughter of Mr. Milner. Oh ! do not refuse
an asylum, even in your own house, to the destitute
offspring of your friend the last and only remain-
ing branch of his family.
" Receive her into your household, be her con-
dition there ever so abject. I cannot write distinctly
what I would my senses are not impaired, but the
powers of expression are. The complaint of the un-
fortunate child in the Scriptures (a lesson I have
studied), has made this wish cling so fast to my heart,
that, without the distant hope of its being fulfilled,
death would have more terrors than my weak mind
could support.
" ' I will go to my father. How many servants
live in my father's house, and are fed with plenty,
while I starve in a foreign land!'
" I do not ask a parent's festive rejoicing at her
approach I do not even ask her father to behold
her ; but let her live under his protection. For
her grandfather's sake do not refuse this to the
child of his child, whom he entrusted to your care,
do not refuse it.
" Be her host ; I remit the tie of being her parent,
u 2
220 A SIMPLE STORY.
Never see her but let her sometimes live under
the same roof with you.
" It is Miss Milner, your ward, to whom you
never refused a request, who supplicates you not
now for your nephew, Rushbrook, but for one so
much more dear that a denial She dares not
surfer her thoughts to glance that way she will hope
and in that hope bids you farewel, with all the
love she ever bore you.
" Farewel, Dorriforth farewel, LordElmwood
and before you throw this letter from you with con-
tempt or anger, cast your imagination into the grave
where I am lying. Reflect upon all the days of my
past life the anxious moments I have known, and
what has been their end. Behold me, also : in my
altered face there is no anxiety no joy or sorrow
all is over. My whole frame is motionless
my heart beats no more. Look at my horrid habita-
tion, too, and ask yourself whether I am an object
of resentment."
While Lord Elmwood read this letter, it trembled
in his hand : he once or twice wiped the tears from
his eyes as he read, and once laid the letter down
for a few minutes. At its conclusion, the tears
flowed fast down his face : but he seemed both
ashamed and angry they did, and was going to
throw thepaper upon the fire. He, however, suddenly
checked his hand ; and, putting it hastily into his
pocket, went to bed.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
The next morning, when Lord Elmwood and Sand
ford met at breakfast, the latter was pale with fear
A SIMPLE STORY. 221
for the success of Lady Elniwood's letter : the earl
was pale too, but there was besides upou his face
something which evidently marked he was displeased.
Sandford observed it, and was all humbleness,
both in his words and looks, in order to soften
him.
As soon as the breakfast was removed, Lord Elm-
wood drew the letter from his pocket, and, holding it
towards Sandford, said,
" That may be of more value to you than it is to
me : therefore I give it you."
Sandford called up a look of surprise, as if he did
not know the letter again.
" Tis Lady Elniwood's letter," said Lord Elm-
wood ; " and I return it to you for two reasons."
Sandford took it, and, putting it up, asked fearfully,
" what those two reasons were."
" First," said he, " because I think it is a relic
you may like to preserve. My second reason is, that
you may shew it to her daughter, and let her know
why, and on what conditions, I grant her mother's
request."
" You do then grant it?" cried Sandford joyfully :
" I thank you you are kind you are considerate."
" Be not hasty in your gratitude : you may have
cause to recal it."
" I know what you have said," replied Sandford :
" you have said you grant Lady Elniwood's request
you cannot recal these words, nor I my grati-
tude."
" Do you know what her request is?" return-
ed he.
" Not exactly, my lord : I told you before I did
not ; but it is, no doubt, something in favour of her
child."
" I think not," he replied. " Such as it is, how-
ever, I grant it ; but in the strictest sense of the
u 3
222 A SIMPLE STORY.
word no farther and one neglect of my com-
mands releases me from this promise totally."
" We will take care, sir, not to disobey them."
" Then listen to what they are ; for to you I give
the charge of delivering them again. Lady Elm-
wood has petitioned me, in the name of her father
(a name I reverence), to give his grandchild the
sanction of my protection ; in the literal sense, to
suffer that she may reside at one of my seats ; dis-
pensing at the same time with my ever seeing her."
" And you will comply ?"
" I will, till she encroaches on this concession,
and dares to hope for a greater. I will, while she
avoids my sight, or the giving me any remembrance
of her. But if, whether by design or by accident,
I ever see or hear from her, that moment my com-
pliance to her mother's supplication ceases, and I
abandon her once more.
Sandford sighed. Lord Elmwood continued :
" I am glad her request stopped where it did.
I would rather comply with her desires than not ;
and I rejoice they are such as I can grant with ease
and honour to myself. I am seldom now at Elmwood
Castle : let her daughter go there. The few weeks
or months I am down in the summer, she may easily,
in that extensive house, avoid me : while she does,
she lives in security when she does not you know
my resolution."
Sandford bowed the earl resumed :
" Nor can it be a hardship to obey this command :
she cannot lament the separation from a parent
whom she never knew " Sandford was going eager-
ly to prove the error of that assertion ; but he pre-
vented him, by saying, " In a word without farther
argument if she obeys me in this, I will provide
for her as my daughter during my life, and leave
her a fortune at my death ; but if she dares "
A SIMPLE STORY. 223
Sandford interrupted the menace prepared for
utterance, saying, " And you still mean, I suppose,
to make Mr. Rushbrook your heir ? "
" Have you not heard me say so ? And do you
imagine I have changed my determination ? I am
not given to alter my resolutions, Mr. Sandford ;
and I thought you knew 1 was not : besides, will not
my title be extinct, whoever I make my heir? Could
any thing but a son have preserved my title ? "
" Then it is yet possible "
" By marrying again, you mean? No no I
have had enough of marriage ; and Henry Rush-
brook 1 shall leave my heir. Therefore, sir "
" My lord, I do not presume "
" Do not, Sandford, and we may still be good
friends. But I am not to be controuled as formerly :
my temper is changed of late changed to what it
was originally, till your religious precepts reformed
it. You may remember, how troublesome it was
to conquer my stubborn disposition in my youth :
then, indeed, you did ; but in my more advanced
age, you will find the task too difficult."
Sandford again repeated, " he should not pre-
sume "
To which Lord Elmwood again made answer,
" Do not, Sandford ; " and added, " for I have a
sincere regard for you, and should be loath, at these
years, to quarrel with you seriously."
Sandford turned away his head to conceal his
feelings.
" Nay, if we do quarrel," resumed Lord Elm-
wood, " you know it must be your own fault; and
as this is a theme the most likely of any, nay, the
only one on which we can have a difference (such
as we cannot forgive), take care never from this day
to renew it . Indeed, that of itself would be an of-
224 A SIMPLE STORY.
fence I could not pardon. I have been clear and
explicit in all I have said ; there can be no fear of
mistaking my meaning ; therefore, all future expla
nation is unnecessary : nor will I permit a word, or
a hint on the subject from any one, without showing
my resentment even to the hour of my death." He
was going out of the room.
" But before we bid adieu to the subject for ever,
my lord there was another person whom I named
to you "
" Do you mean Miss Wooclley ? Oh, by all
means let her live at Elmwood House too. On
consideration, I have no objection to see Miss
Woodley at any time : I shall be glad to see her.
Do not let her be frightened at me : to her I shall
be the same that I have always been."
" She is a good woman, my lord," cried Sand-
ford, delighted.
" You need not tell me that, Mr. Sandford : 1
know her worth." And he left the room.
Sandford, to relieve Miss Woodley and her lovely
charge from the suspense in which he had left them,
prepared to set off for their habitation, and meant
himself to conduct them from thence to Elmwood
Castle, and appoint some retired part of it for Lady
Matilda, against the annual visit which her father
should pay there. To confirm this caution, before
he left London, Giffard, the steward, took an oppor-
tunity to wait upon him, and let him know, that his
lord had acquainted him with the consent he had
given for his daughter to be admitted at Elmwood
Castle, and upon what restrictions ; that he had
farther uttered the severest threats, should these re-
strictions ever be infringed. Sandford thanked Gif-
fard for his friendly information. It served him as a
second warning of the circumspection that was ne-
A SIMPLE STORY. 225
cessary ; and having taken leave of his friend and
patron, under the pretence that " he could not live
in the smoke of London," he set out for the North.
It is unnecessary to say with what joy Sandford
was received by Miss Woodley and the hapless
daughter of Lady Elmwood, even before he told
his errand. They both loved him sincerely ; more
especially Lady Matilda, whose forlorn state, and
innocent sufferings, had ever excited his compassion,
and caused him to treat her with affection, tender-
ness, and respect. She knew, too, how much he
had been her mother's friend ; for that, she also
loved him ; and for his being honoured with the
friendship of her father, she looked up to him with
reverence. For Matilda (with an excellent under-
standing, a sedateness above her years, and having
been early accustomed to the private converse be-
tween Lady Elmwood and Miss Woodley,) was per-
fectly acquainted with the whole fatal history of her
mother ; and was, by her, taught the esteem and
admiration of her father's virtues which they so
justly merited.
Notwithstanding the joy of Mr. Sandford's pre-
sence, once more to cheer their solitary dwelling ;
no sooner were the first kind greetings over than
the dread of what he might have to inform them of
possessed poor Matilda and Miss Woodley so pow-
erfully, that all their gladness was changed into
affright. Their apprehensions were far more for-
cible than their curiosity : they dared not ask a
question, and even began to wish he would continue
silent upon the subject on which they feared to lis-
ten. For near two hours he was so. At length,
after a short interval from speaking, (during which
they waited with anxiety for what he might next
say), he turned to Lady Matilda, and said,
" You don't ask for your father, my dear."
226 A SIMPLE STORY.
" I did not know it was proper," she replied,
timidly.
" It is always proper," answered Sandford, " for
you to think of him, though he should never think
on you."
She burst into tears, and said that she " did
think of him, but she felt an apprehension of men-
tioning his name." And she wept bitterly while
she spoke.
" Do not think I reproved you,'' said Sandford :
" 1 only told you what was right."
" Nay," said Miss Woodley, " she does not weep
for that : she fears her father has not complied with
her mother's request ; perhaps, not even read her
letter."
" Yes, he has read it," returned Sandford.
" Oh, Heavens !" exclaimed Matilda, ciasping her
hands together, and the tears falling still faster.
" Do not be so much alarmed, my dear," said
Miss Woodley : " you know we are prepared for the
worst ; and you know you promised your mother,
whatever your fate should be, to submit with pa-
tience."
" Yes," replied Matilda; " and I am prepared for
every thing but my father's refusal to my dear
mother."
" Your father has not refused your mother's re-
quest," replied Sandford.
She was leaping from her seat in ecstasy.
" But," continued he, c do you know what her
request was ? "
" Not entirely," replied Matilda ; " and since it
is granted, I am careless. But she told me her
letter concerned none but me."
To explain perfectly to Matilda, Lady Elmwood's
letter, and that she might perfectly understand upon
what terms she was admitted into Elmwood Castle,
A SIMPLE STORY. 227
Sand ford now read the letter to her ; and repeated,
as nearly as he could remember, the whole of the
conversation that passed between Lord Ehnwood
and himself; not even sparing, through an erroneous
delicacy, any of those threats her father had de-
nounced, should she dare to transgress the limits he
prescribed nor did he try to soften, in one instance,
a word he uttered. She listened sometimes with
tears, sometimes with hope, but always with awe,
and with terror, to every sentence in which her fa-
ther was concerned. Once she called him cruel
then exclaimed " he was kind ; " but at the end of
Sandford's intelligence, concluded " that she was
happy and grateful for the boon bestowed." Even
her mother had not a more exalted idea of Lord
Elinwood's worth than his daughter had formed ;
and this little bounty just obtained would not have
been greater in her mother's estimation than it was
now in hers. Miss Woodley, too, smiled at the
prospect before her : she esteemed Lord Elmwood
beyond any mortal living : she was proud to hear
what he had said in her praise, and overjoyed at the
expectation of being once again in his company ;
painting at the same time a thousand bright hopes,
from watching every emotion of his soul, and catch-
ing every proper occasion to excite or increase his
paternal sentiments. Yet she had the prudence to
conceal those vague hopes from his child, lest a
disappointment might prove fatal ; and assuming a
behaviour neither too much elated nor depressed, she
advised that they should hope for the best, but yet,
as usual, expect and prepare for the worst. After
taking measures for quitting their melancholy abode,
within the fortnight they all departed for Elmwood
Castle ; Matilda, Miss Woodley, and even Sandford,
first visiting Lady Elmwood's grave, and bedewing
it with their tears.
228 A SIMPLE STORY.
CHAPTER XXXV.
It was on a dark evening in the month of March,
that Lady Matilda, accompanied by Sandford and
Miss Woodley, arrived at Elmwood Castle, the mag-
nificent seat of her father. Sandford chose the
evening, rather to steal into the house privately,
than by any appearance of parade to suffer Lord
Elmwood to be reminded of their arrival by the
public prints, or by any other accident. Nor would
he give the neighbours or servants reason to sup-
pose the daughter of their Lord was admitted into
his house, in any other situation than that in which
she really was permitted to be there.
As the porter opened the gates of the avenue to
the carriage that brought them, Matilda felt an
awful and yet gladsome sensation, which no terms
can describe. As she entered the door of the man-
sion this sensation increased and as she passed
along the spacious hall, the splendid staircase, and
many stately apartments, wonder, with a crowd of
the tenderest, yet most afflicting sentiments, rushed
to her heart. She gazed with astonishment ! she
reflected with still more.
" And is my father the master of this house ?"
she cried " and was my mother once the mistress
of this castle '( " Here tears relieved her from a
part of that burthen which was before insupport-
able.
" Yes," replied Sandford, " and you are the mis-
tress of it now, till your father arrives."
" Good Heaven ! " exclaimed she, " and will he
ever arrive ? And shall I live to sleep under the same
roof with my father ? "
" My dear," replied Miss Woodley, " have not
you been told so ?"
A SIMPLE STORY. 22})
" Yes," said she, " but though I heard it with
extreme pleasure, yet the expectation never so for-
cibly affected me as at this moment. I now feel, as
the reality approaches, that to be admitted here, is
kindness enough : I do not ask for more I am now
convinced, from what this trial makes me feel, that
to see my father would occasion emotions I could
not perhaps survive."
The next morning gave to Matilda more objects
of admiration and wonder, as she walked over the
extensive gardens, groves, and other pleasure grounds
belonging to the house. She, who had never been
beyond the dreary, ruinous places which her de-
ceased mother had made her residence, was naturally
struck with amazement and delight, at the grandeur
of a seat, which travellers came for miles to see, nor
thought their time mispent.
There was one object, however, among all she
saw, which attracted her attention above the rest,
and she would stand for hours to look at it. This
was a whole-length portrait of Lord Elmwood, es-
teemed a very capital picture, and aperfect likeness.
To this picture she would sigh and weep ; though,
when it was first pointed out to her, she shrunk back
with fear, and it was some time before she dared
venture to cast her eyes completely upon it. In the
features of her father she was proud to discern the
exact mould in which her own appeared to have
been modelled ; yet Matilda's person, shape, and
complexion were so extremely like what her mother's
once were, that at the first glance, she appeared to
have a still greater resemblance of her, than of her
father: but her mind and manners were all Lord
Elm wood's ; softened by the delicacy of her sex, the
extreme tenderness of her heart, and the melancholy
of her situation.
VOL. XXVIII. x
230 A SIMPLE STORY.
She was now in her seventeenth year : of the same
age, within a year and a few months, of her mother,
when she first became the ward of Dorriforth. She
was just three years old when her father went abroad
and remembered something of bidding him farewel ;
but more of taking cherries from his hand, as he
pulled them from the tree to give to her.
Educated in the school of adversity, and inured to
retirement from her infancy, she had acquired a
taste for all those amusements which a recluse life
affords. She was fond of walking and riding ; was
accomplished in the arts of music and drawing, by
the most careful instructions of her mother ; and as
a scholar, she excelled most of her sex, from the
pains which Sandford had taken with that part of
her education, and the superior abilities he possessed
for the task.
In devoting certain hours of the day to study with
him, others to music, riding, and such harmless re-
creations, Matilda's time never appeared tedious at
Elmwood Castle, although she received and paid no
one visit : for it was soon divulged in the neigh-
bourhood, upon what stipulation she resided at her
father's, and studiously intimated, that the most
prudent and friendly behaviour of her true friends
would be, to take no notice whatever that she lived
among them : and as Lord Elmwood's will was a
law all around, such was the consequence of that
will, known, or merely supposed.
Neither did Miss Woodley regret the want of
visitors, but found herself far more satisfied in her
present situation than her most sanguine hopes
could have formed. She had a companion whom
she loved with an equal fondness with which she
had loved her deceased mother ; and frequently, in
this charming habitation, where she had so often
A SIMPLE STORY. 231
beheld Lady Elmwood, her imagination represented
Matilda as her friend risen from the grave, in her
former youth, health, and exquisite beauty.
In peace, in content, though not in happiness,
the days and weeks passed away, till about the mid-
dle of August, when preparations began to be made
for the arrival of Lord Elmwood. The week in
which he was to come was at length fixed, and some
part of his retinue was arrived before him. When
this was told Matilda, she started, and looked just
as her mother at her age had often done, when, in
spite of her love, she was conscious that she had
offended him, and was terrified at his approach.
Sandford, observing this involuntary emotion, put
out his hand, and, taking hers, shook it kindly ; and
bade her (but it was not in a cheering tone) " not
be afraid." This gave her no confidence : and she
began, before her father's arrival, to seclude herself
in the apartments allotted for her during the time of
his stay ; and, in the timorous expectation of his
coming, her appetite declined, and she lost all her
colour. Even Miss Woodley, whose spirits had
been for some time elated with the hopes she had
formed, from his residence at the castle, on drawing
near to the test, found those hopes vanished ; and
though she endeavoured to conceal it, she was full
of apprehensions. Sandford had certainly fewer
fears than either ; yet upon the eve of the day on
which his patron was to arrive, he was evidently cast
down.
Lady Matilda once asked him ; " Are you cer-
tain, Mr. Sandford, you made no mistake in respect
to what Lord Elmwood said, when he granted my
mother's request? Are you sure he did grant it ?
Was there nothing equivocal on which he may
ground his displeasure, should he be told that I am
here ? Oh, do not let me hazard being once again
x 2
232 A SIMPLE STORY.
turned out of his house ! Oh ! save me from pro-
voking him perhaps to execrate me." And here
she clasped her hands together with the most fervent
petition, in the dread of what might happen.
" If you doubt my words or my senses," said
Sandford, " call Giftard, who is just arrived, and
let him inform you : the same words were repeated
to him as to me."
Though from her reason, Matilda could not doubt
of any mistake from Mr. Sandford, yet her fears
suggested a thousand scruples ; and this reference
to the steward she received with the utmost satis-
faction, (though she did not think it necessary to
apply to him), as it perfectly convinced her of the
folly of the suspicions she had entertained.
" And yet, Mr. Sandford," said she, " if it is so,
why are you less cheerful than you were ? I cannot
help thinking but it must be the expected arrival of
Lord Elmwood which has occasioned this change."
" I don't know," replied Sandford, carelessly ;
" but I believe I am grown afraid of your father.
His temper is a great deal altered from what it once
was : he raises his voice, and uses harsh expressions
upon the least provocation : his eyes flash lightning,
and his face is distorted with anger upon the slight-
est motives : he turns away his old servants at a mo-
ment's warning, and no concession can make their
peace. In a word, I am more at my ease when I am
away from him ; and I really believe," added he
with a smile, but with a tear at the same time " I
really believe, I am more afraid of him in my age,
than lie was of me when he was a boy."
Miss Woodley was present : she and Matilda
looked at one another ; and each of them saw the
other turn pale at this description.
The day at length came on which Lord Elmwood
was expected to dinner. It would have been a high
A SIMPLE STORY. 233
gratification to his daughter to have gone to the
topmost window of the house, and have only beheld
his carriage enter the avenue ; but it was a gratifi-
cation which her fears, her tremor, her extreme
sensibility would not permit her to enjoy.
Miss Wood ley and she sat down that day to din-
ner in their retired apartments, which were detached
from the other part of the house by a gallery : and
of the door leading to the gallery they had a key, to
impede any one from passing that way, without first
ringing a bell ; to answer which was the sole em-
ployment of a servant, who was placed there during
the earl's residence, lest by any accident he might
chance to come near that unfrequented part of the
house : on which occasion the man was to give im-
mediate notice to his lady, so as she might avoid
his presence by retiring to an inner room.
Matilda and Miss Woodley sat down to dinner,
but did not dine. Sandford dined, as usual, with
Lord Elmwood. When tea was brought, Miss
Woodley asked the servant, who attended, if he had
seen his lord. The man answered, " Yes, madam ;
and he looks vastly well." Matilda wept with joy
to hear it.
About nine in the evening, Sandford rang at the
bell, and was admitted : never had he been so wel-
come. Matilda hung upon him as if his recent in-
terview with her father had endeared him to her
more than ever ; and, staring anxiously in his face,
seemed to inquire of him something about Lord Elm-
wood, and something that should not alarm her.
" Well how do you find yourself?'' said he to her.
" How are you, Mr. Sandford?" she returned,
with a sigh.
" Oh ! very well," replied he.
"Is my lord in a good temper?" asked Miss
Woodley.
x 3
234 A SIiMPLE STORY.
" Yes, very well," replied Sandford, with in-
difference.
" Did he seem glad to see you?" asked Ma-
tilda.
" He shook me by the hand," replied Sandford.
" That was a sign he was glad to see you was it
not?" said Matilda.
" Yes ; but he could not do less."
" Nor more," replied she.
" He looks very well, our servant tells us," said
Miss Woodley.
" Extremely well, indeed," answered Sandford ;
" and to tell the truth, I never saw him in better
spirits."
" That is well," said Matilda, and sighed a weight
of fears from her heart.
" Where is he now, Mr. Sandford ?"
" Gone to take a walk about his grounds, and
I stole here in the mean time."
"What was your conversation during dinner?"
asked Miss Woodley.
" Horses, hay, farming, and politics."
" Won't you sup with him ? "
" I shall see him again before I go to bed."
" And again to-morrow?" cried Matilda: " what
happiness ! "
" He has visitors to-morrow," said Sandford,
" coming for a week or two."
" Thank Heaven," said Miss Woodley : " he will
then be diverted from thinking on us."
" Do you know," returned Sandford, " it is my
firm opinion, that his thinking of ye at present is
the cause of his good spirits."
" Oh, Heavens ! " cried Matilda, lifting up her
hands with rapture.
" Nay, do not mistake me," said Sandford : " I
would not have you build a foundation for joy upon
A SIMPLE STORY. 2515
this surmise ; for if he is in spirits that you are in
this house so near him positively under his pro-
tection yet he will not allow himself to think it is
the cause of his content ; and the sentiments he has
adopted, and which are now become natural to him,
will remain the same as ever: nay, perhaps with
greater force, should he suspect his weakness, as
he calls it, acting in opposition to them."
" If he does but think of me with tenderness,"
cried Matilda, " I am recompensed."
" And what recompence would his kind thoughts
be to you," said Sandford, " were he to turn you
out to beggary?"
" A great deal a great deal," she replied.
" But how are you to know he has these kind
thoughts, if he gives you no proof of them?"
" No, Mr. Sandford ; but supposing we could
know them without proof."
" But as that is impossible," answered he, " I shall
suppose, till proof appears, that I have been mis-
taken in my conjectures."
Matilda looked deeply concerned that the argu-
ment should conclude in her disappointment ; for to
have believed herself thought of with tenderness
by her father, would have alone constituted her
happiness.
When the servant came up with something by
way of supper, he told Mr. Sandford that his lord
was returned from his walk, and had inquired for
him. Sandford immediately bade his companions
good night, and left them.
" How strange is this !" cried Matilda, when Miss
Woodley and she were alone " My father within a
few rooms of me, and yet I am debarred from see-
ing him ! Only by walking a few paces I could be
at his feet, and perhaps receive his blessing !"
" You make me shudder," cried Miss Woodley ;
*23G A SIMPLE STORY.
" but some spirits less timid than mine might per-
haps advise you to the experiment ! "
" Not for worlds !" returned Matilda : " no counsel
could tempt me to such temerity ; and yet to en-
tertain the thought that it is possible I could do
this, is a source of infinite comfort."
This conversation lasted till bed-time, and later ;
for they sat up beyond their usual hour to indulge it.
Miss Woodley slept little, but Matilda less : she
awaked repeatedly during the night, and every time
sighed to herself, " I sleep in the same house with
my father ! Blessed spirit of my mother, look down
and rejoice."
CHAPTER XXXVI.
The next day the whole castle appeared to Lady
Matilda (though she was in some degree retired
from it) all tumult and bustle, as was usually the
case while Lord Elmwood was there. She saw from
her windows the servants running across the yards
and park ; horses and carriages driving with fury ;
all the suite of a nobleman ; and it sometimes elated,
at other times depressed her.
These impressions, however, and others of fear and
anxiety, which her father's arrival had excited, by
degrees wore off; and after some little time she
was in the same tranquil state that she enjoyed be-
fore he came.
He had visitors, who passed a week or two with
him ; he paid visits himself for several days ; and
thus the time stole away, till it was about four weeks
from the time that he had arrived : in which long
period Sandford, with all his penetration, could
A SIMPLE STORY. 237
never clearly discover whether he had once called
to mind that his daughter was living in the same
house. He had not once named her (that was not
extraordinary) ; consequently no one dared name her
to him; but he had not even mentioned Miss Wood-
ley, of whom he had so lately spoken in the kindest
terms, and had said, " he should take pleasure in
seeing her again." From these contradictions in
Lord Elmwood's behaviour in respect to her, it was
Miss Woodley's plan neither to throw herself in
his way, nor avoid him. She therefore frequently
walked about the house while he was in it, not in-
deed entirely without restraint, but at least with
the show of liberty. This freedom, indulged for
some time without peril, became at last less cau-
tious ; and as no ill consequences had arisen from
its practice, her scruples gradually ceased.
One morning, however, as she was crossing the
large hall, thoughtless of danger, a footstep at a
distance alarmed her almost without knowing why.
She stopped for a moment, thinking to return : the
steps approached quicker ; and before she could
retreat, she beheld Lord Elmwood at the other end
of the hall, and perceived that he saw her. It was
too late to hesitate what was to be done : she could
not go back, and had not courage to go on : she
therefore stood still. Disconcerted, and much
affected at his sight (their former intimacy coming
to her mind with the many years, and many sad
occurrences passed, since she last saw him), all her
intentions, all her meditated schemes how to conduct
herself on such an occasion, gave way to a sudden
shock ; and to make the meeting yet more distress-
ing, her very fright, she knew, would serve to recal
more powerfully to his mind the subject she most
wished him to forget. The steward was with him ;
and as they came up close by her side, Giffard ob-
238 A SIMPLE STORY.
serving him look at her earnestly, said softly, but so
as she heard him, " My lord, it is Miss Woodley."
Lord Elmwood took off his hat instantly; and, with
an apparent friendly warmth, laying hold of her
hand, he said, " Indeed, Miss Woodley, I did not
know you ; I am very glad to see you :" and while
he spoke, shook her hand with a cordiality which
her tender heart could not bear ; and never did she
feel so hard a struggle as to restrain her tears. But
the thought of Matilda's fate : the idea of awaken-
ing in his mind a sentiment that might irritate him
against his child, wrought more forcibly than every
other effort ; and though she could not reply dis-
tinctly, she replied without weeping. Whether he
saw her embarrassment, and wished to release her
from it, or was in haste to conceal his own, he left
her almost instantly ; but not till he had entreated
she would dine that very day with him and Mr.
Sandford, who were to dine without other company.
She curtsied assent, and flew to tell Matilda what
had occurred. After listening with anxiety and
with joy to all she told, Matilda laid hold of that,
hand which she said Lord Elmwood had held, and
pressed it to her lips with love and reverence.
When Miss Woodley made her appearance at
dinner, Sandford (who had not seen her since the
invitation, and did not know of it,) looked amazed ;
on which Lord Elmwood said, " Do you know,
Sandford, I met Miss Woodley this morning; and,
had it not been for Giffard, I should have passed her
without knowing her. But, Miss Woodley, if I am
not so much altered but that you knew me, I take
it unkind you did not speak first." She was unable
to speak even now : he saw it, and changed the
conversation ; when Sandford eagerly joined in dis-
course, which relieved him from the pain of the
former.
A SIMPLE STORY. 2'M)
As they advanced in their dinner, the embarrass-
ment of Miss Woodley and of Mr. Sand ford dimi-
nished ; Lord Elmwood, in his turn, became, not
embarrassed, but absent and melancholy. He now
and then sighed heavily ; and called for wine much
oftener than he was accustomed.
When Miss Woodley took her leave, he invited
her to dine with him and Sandford whenever it was
convenient to her : he said, besides, many things
of the same kind, and all with the utmost civility,
yet not with that warmth with which he had spoken
in the morning : into that he had been surprised ;
his coolness was the effect of reflection.
When she came to Lady Matilda, and Sandford
had joined them, they talked and deliberated on what
had passed.
" You acknowledge, Mr. Sandford," said Miss
Woodley, " that you think my presence affected
Lord Elmwood, so as to make him much more
thoughtful than usual: if you imagine these thoughts
were upon Lady Elmwood, I will never intrude
again ; but if you suppose that I made him think
upon his daughter, I cannot go too often."
" I don't see how he can divide those two objects
in his mind," replied Sandford : " therefore you
must e'en visit him on, and take your chance, what
reflections you may cause ; but, be they what they
will, time will steal away from you that power of
affecting him."
She concurred in the opinion, and occasionally
she walked into Lord Elmwood's apartments, dined,
or took her coffee with him, as the accident suited ;
and observed, according to Sandford's prediction,
that time wore off the impression her visits first
made. Lord Elmwood now became just the same
before her as before others. She easily discerned,
too, through all that politeness which he assumed
240 A SIMPLE STORY.
that he was no longer the considerate, the for-
bearing- character he formerly was ; but haughty,
impatient, imperious, and more than ever impla-
cable.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
When Lord Elm wood had been at his country seat
about six weeks, Mr. Rushbrook, his nephew and
his adopted child that friendless boy whom Lady
Elmwood first introduced into his uncle's house, and
by her kindness preserved there arrived from his
travels, and was received by his uncle with all the
marks of affection due to the man he thought worthy
to be his heir. Rushbrook had been a beautiful
boy, and was now an extremely handsome young
man : he had made unusual progress in his studies,
had completed the tour of Italy and Germany, and
returned home with the air and address of a perfect
man of fashion. There was, besides, an elegance and
persuasion in his manner almost irresistible. Yet
with all those accomplishments, when he was intro-
duced to Sandford, and put forth his hand to take
his, Sandford, with evident reluctance, gave it to
him: and when Lord Elmwood asked him, in the
young man's presence, " if he did not think his
nephew greatly improved," he looked at him from
head to foot, and muttered " he could not say he
observed it." The colour heightened in Mr. Rush-
brook's face upon the occasion ; but he was too well
bred not to be in perfect good humour.
Sandford saw this young man treated, in the house
of Lord Elmwood, with the same respect and atten-
tion as if he had been his son ; and it was but pro-
bable that the old priest would make a comparison
A SIMPLE STORY. 24L
betwcen the situation of him and of Lady Matilda
Elmwood. Before her, it was Sandford's meaning
to have concealed his thoughts upon the subject,
and never to have mentioned it but with composure.
That was, however, impossible : unused to hide his
feelings, at the name of Rushbrook his countenance
would always change ; and a sarcastic sneer, some-
times a frown of resentment, would force its way in
spite of his resolution. Miss Woodley, too, with all
her boundless charity and good will, was, upon this
occasion, induced to limit their excess ; and they
did not extend so far as to reach poor Rushbrook.
She even, and in reality, did not think him hand-
some or engaging in his manners : she thought his
gaiety frivolousness, his complaisance affectation,
and his good-humour impertinence. It was impos-
sible to conceal those unfavourable sentiments en-
tirely from Matilda ; for when the subject arose, as
it frequently did, Miss Woodley's undisguised heart,
and Sandford's undisguised countenance, told them
instantly. Matilda had the understanding to ima-
gine, that she was, perhaps, the object who had thus
deformed Mr. Rushbrook, and frequently (though
he was a stranger to her, and one who had caused
her many a jealous heart-ach), frequently she would
speak in his vindication.
" You are very good," said Sandford, one day to
her : " you like him, because you know your father
loves him."
This was a hard sentence for the daughter of
Lord Elmwood to hear, to whom her father's love
would have been more precious than any other
blessing : she, however, checked the assault of envy
and kindly replied,
" My mother loved him too, Mr. Sandford."
" Yes," answered Sandford, " he has been a
grateful man to your poor mother. She did not sup-
VOL. xxvm. Y
242 A SIMPLE STORY.
pose when she took him into the house when she
entreated your father to take him and through her
caresses and officious praises of him, first gave him
that power which he now possesses over his uncle :
she little foresaw, at that time, his ingratitude, and
its effects."
" Very true," said Miss Woodley, with a heavy
sigh.
" What ingratitude ?" asked Matilda. " Do you
suppose Mr. Rushbrook is the cause that my father
will not see me ? Oh, do not pay Lord Elmwood's
motive so ill a compliment."
" I do not say that he is the absolute cause," re-
turned Sandford: " but if a parent's heart is void, I
would have it remain so, till its lawful owner is re-
placed. Usurpers I detest."
" No one can take Lord Elmwood's heart by
force," replied his daughter : " it must, I believe, be
a free gift to the possessor ; and, as such, whoever
has it has a right to it."
In this manner she would plead the young man's
excuse ; perhaps but to hear what could be said in
his disfavour, for secretly his name was bitter to her
-and once she exclaimed in vexation, on Sandford's
saying Lord Elmwood and Mr. Rushbrook were
gone out shooting together,
" All that pleasure is eclipsed which I used to take
in listening to the report of my father's gun ; for I
cannot now distinguish his from his parasite's."
Sandford (much as he disliked Rushbrook), for
this expression, which comprised her father in the
reflection, turned to Matilda in extreme anger : but
as he saw the colour rise into her face, for what, in
the strong feelings of her heart, had escaped her lips,
he did not say a word; and by her tears that follow-
ed, he rejoiced to see how much she reproved herself .
Miss Woodley, vexed to the heart, and provoked
A SIMPLE STORY. 243
every time she saw Lord Elmwood and Rushbrook
together, and saw the familiar terms on which this
young man lived with his benefactor, now made her
visits to him very seldom. If Lord Elmwood observed
this, he did not appear to observe it ; and though
he received her politely when she did pay him a
visit, it was always very coldly : nor did she suppose
if she never went, he would ever ask for her. For
his daughter's sake, however, she thought it right
sometimes to shew herself before him ; for she knew
it must be impossible that, with all his apparent in-
difference, he could ever see her without thinking
for a moment on his child ; and what one fortunate
thought might some time bring about was an object
much too serious for her to overlook. She therefore,
after remaining confined to her own suite of rooms
near three weeks, (excepting those anxious walks
she and Matilda stole, while Lord Elmwood dined,
or before he rose in a morning,) went one forenoon
into his apartments, where, as usual, she found him
with Mr. Sandford and Mr. Rushbrook. After she
had sat about half an hour, conversing with them
all, though but very little with the latter, Lord Elm-
wood was called out of the room upon some business :
presently after, Sandford : and now, by no means
pleased with the companion with whom she was left,
she rose, and was also retiring, when Rushbrook
fixed his speaking eyes upon her, and cried,
" Miss Woodley, will you pardon me what I am
going to say "? "
;< Certainly, sir you can, I am sure, say nothing
but what I must forgive." But she made this reply
with a distance and a reserve very unlike the usual
manners of Miss Woodley.
He looked at her earnestly, and cried, "Ah ! Miss
Woodley, you don't behave so kindly to me as you
used to do ! "
Y 2
244 A SIMPLE STORY.
" I do not understand you, sir," she replied very
gravely. " Times are changed, Mr. Rushbrook,
since vou were last here : you were then but a
child."
" Yet I love all those persons now, that I loved
then," replied he ; " and so I shall for ever."
" But you mistake, Mr. Rushbrook : I was not,
even then, so very much the object of your affections
there were other ladies you loved better. Per-
haps you don't remember Lady Elmwood !"
" Don't I ?" cried he. " Oh ! " (clasping his hands
and lifting up his eyes to heaven), " shall I ever
forget her 1 "
That moment Lord Elmwood opened the door :
the conversation, of course, that moment ended ; but
confusion, at the sudden surprise, was on the face of
both parties: he saw it, and looked at each of them
by turns with a sternness that made poor Miss
Woodley ready to faint ; while Rushbrook, with the
mostnatural and happy laugh that ever was affected,
cried, " No, don't tell my lord, pray, Miss Woodley."
She was more confused than before, and Lord
Elmwood turning to him, asked what the subject
was. By this time he had invented one, and, con-
tinuing his laugh, said, " Miss Woodley, my lord,
will to this day protest that she saw my apparition
when I was a boy ; and she says it is a sign I shall
die young, and is really much affected at it."
Lord Elmwood turned away before this ridiculous
speech was concluded; yet so well had it been acted,
that he did not for an instant doubt its truth.
Miss Woodley felt herself greatly relieved ; and
yet so little is it in the power of those we dislike to
do any thing to please us, that from this very cir-
cumstance, she formed a more unfavourable opinion
of Mr. Rushbrook than she had done before. She
saw in this little incident the art of dissimulation,
A SIMPLE STORY. 245
cunning, and duplicity in its most glaring shape; and
detested the method by which they had each escaped
Lord Elmwood's suspicion, and perhaps anger, the
more, because it was so dexterously managed.
Lady Matilda and Sandford were both in their
turns informed of this trait in Mr. Rushbrook's
character : and although Miss Woodley had the best
of dispositions, and upon every occasion spoke the
strictest truth, yet, in relating this occurrence, she
did not speak all the truth ; for every circumstance
that would have told to the young man's advantage
literally had slipped her memory.
The twenty-ninth of October arrived, on which a
dinner, a ball, and supper, was given by Lord Elm-
wood to all the neighbouring gentry : the peasants
also dined in the park off a roasted bullock : several
casks of ale were distributed, and the bells of the
village rung. Matilda, who heard and saw some
part of this festivity from her windows, inquired the
cause ; but even the servant who waited upon her
had too much sensibility to tell her, and answered,
" he did not know." Miss Woodley, however, soon
learned the reason, and, groaning with the painful
secret, informed her, " Mr. Rushbrook on that day
was come of age."
" My birth-day was last week," replied Matilda ;
but not a word beside.
In their retired apartments, this day passed away
not only soberly, but almost silently ; for to speak
upon any subject that did not engage their thoughts
had been difficult, and to speak upon the only one
that did had been afflicting.
Just as they were sitting down to dinner their
bell gently rung, and in walked Sandford.
iX Why are you not among the revellers, Mr.
Sandford V cried Miss Woodley, with an ironical
Y 3
246 A SIMPLE STORY.
sneer, (the first her features ever wore). "Pray, were
not you invited to dine with the company ? "
" Yes," replied Sandford : " but my head ached ;
and so I had rather come and take a bit with you."
Matilda, as if she had seen his heart as he spoke,
clung round his neck and sobbed on his bosom :
he put her peevishly away, crying " Nonsense, non-
sense : eat yoifr dinner." But he did not eat him-
self.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
About a week after this, Lord Elmwood went out
two days for a visit : consequently Rushbrook was
for that time master of the house. The first morning
he went a-shooting, and returning about noon, in-
quired of Sandford, who was sitting in the breakfast-
room, if he had taken up a volume of plays left upon
the table. " I read no such things," replied Sand-
ford, and quitted the room abruptly. Rushbrook
then rang for his servant, and desired him to look
for the book, asking him angrily, " who had been
in the apartment ; for he was sure he had left it
there when he went out." The servant withdrew to
inquire, and presently returned with the volume in
his hand, and " Miss Woodley's compliments : she
begs your pardon, sir : she did not know the book
was yours, and hopes you will excuse the libertv she
took."
" Miss Woodley !" criedRushbrook with surprise :
" she comes so seldom into these apartments, I did
not suppose it was her who had it. Take it back to
her instantly, with mv respects, and I beg she will
keep it."
A SIMPLE STORY. 247
The man went, but returned with the book again,
and, laying it on the table without speaking, was going
away; when Rushbrook, hurt at receiving no second
message, said, " I am afraid, sir, you did very wrong
when you first took this book from Miss Woodley."
" It was not from her 1 took it, sir," replied the
man : " it was from Lady Matilda."
Since he had entered the house, Rushbrook had
never before heard the name of Lady Matilda. He
was shocked, confounded more than ever ; and to
conceal what he felt, instantly ordered the man out
of the room.
In the mean time, Miss Woodley and Matilda were
talking over this trifling occurrence ; and, frivolous
as it was, drew from it strong conclusions of Rush-
brook's insolence and power. In spite of her pride,
the daughter of Lord Elmwood even wept at the
insult she had received on this insignificantoccasion :
for, the volume being merely taken from her at Mr.
Rushbrook's command, she felt an insult ; and the
manner in which it was done by the servant might
contribute to the offence.
While Miss Woodley and she were upon this con-
versation, a note came from Rushbrook to Miss
Woodley, wherein he entreated he might be per-
mitted to see her. She sent a verbal answer, " She
was engaged." He sent again, begging she would
name her own time. But sure of a second denial,
he followed the servant who took the last message ;
and as Miss Woodley came out of her apartment
into the gallery to speak to him, Rushbrook pre-
sented himself, and told the man to retire.
" Mr. Rushbrook," said Miss Woodley, " this
intrusion is unmannerly ; and destitute as you may
think me of the friendship of Lord Elmwood"
In the ardour with which Rushbrook was waiting
248 A SIMPLE STORY.
to express himself, he interrupted her, and caught
hold of her hand.
She immediately snatched it from him, and with-
drew into her chamber.
He followed, saying, in a low voice, " Dear Miss
Woodley, hear me."
At that juncture Lady Matilda, who was in an
inner apartment, came out of it into Miss Woodley 's.
Perceiving a gentleman, she stopped short at the
door.
Rushbrook cast his eyes upon her, and stood
motionless : his lips only moved. " Do not depart,
madam," said he, " without hearing my apology for
being here."
Though Matilda had never seen him since her
infancy, there was no occasion to tell her who it was
that addressed her: his elegant and youthful person,
joined to the incident which had just occurred, con-
vinced her it was Rushbrook. She looked at him
with an air of surprise, but with still more of dignity.
" Miss Woodley is severe upon me, madam,'
continued he : " she judges me unkindly ; and I am
afraid she will prepossess you with the same unfa-
vourable Sentiments."
Still Matilda did not speak, but looked at him
with the same air of dignity.
" If, Lady Matilda," resumed he, " I have of-
fended you, and must quit you without pardon, I
am more unhappy than I should be with the loss
of your father's protection ; more forlorn than,
when an orphan boy, your mother first took pity
on me."
At this last sentence, Matilda turned her eyes on
Miss Woodley, and seemed in doubt what reply she
was to give.
Rushbrook immediately fell upon his knees. "Oh !
A SIMPLE STORY. 249
Lady Matilda," cried he, " if you knew the sensa-
tions of my heart, you would not treat me with this
disdain."
" We can only judge of those sensations, Mr.
Rushbrook," said Miss Woodley, " by the effect
they have upon your conduct : and while you insult
Lord and Lady Elmwood's daughter by an intrusion
like this, and then ridicule her abject state by
mockeries like these "
He rose from his knees instantly, and interrupted
her, crying, " What can I do ? What am I to say,
to make you change your opinion of me? While
Lord Elmwood has been at home, I have kept an
awful distance ; and though every moment I breath-
ed was a wish to cast myself at his daughter's feet,
yet as I feared, Miss Woodley, that you were in-
censed against me, by what means was I to procure
an interview but by stratagem or force 1 This ac-
cident has given a third method, and I had not
strength, I had not courage, to let it pass. Lord
Elmwood will soon return, and we may both of us
be hurried to town immediately. Then how, for a
tedious winter, could I endure the reflection that I
was despised, nay, perhaps considered as an object
of ingratitude, by the only child of my deceased
benefactress ? "
Matilda replied with all her father's haughtiness:
" Depend upon it, sir, if you should ever enter my
thoughts, it will only be as an object of envy."
" Suffer me then, madam," said he, " as an
earnest that you do not think worse of me than I
merit suffer me to be sometimes admitted into
your presence."
She would scarce permit him to finish the period,
before she replied, " This is the last time, sir, we
shall ever meet; depend upon it; unless, indeed,
Lord Elmwood should delegate to you the controul
250 A SIMPLE STORY.
of my actions his commands I never dispute."'
And here she burst into tears.
Rushbrook walked towards the window, and did
not speak for some time ; then turning himself to
make a reply, both Matilda and Miss Woodley were
somewhat surprised to see that he had shed tears
himself. Having conquered them, he said, " I will
not offend you, madam, by remaining one moment
longer ; and I give you my honour, that, upon no
pretence whatever, will I presume to intrude here
again. Professions, I find, have no weight'; and only
by this obedience to your orders can 1 give a proof
of that respect which you inspire ; and let the agita-
tion I now feel convince you, Lady Matilda, that,
with all my seeming good fortune, I am not happier
than yourself." And so much was he agitated while
he delivered this address, that it was with difficulty
he came to the conclusion. When he did, he bowed
with reverence, as if leaving the presence of a deity,
and retired.
Matilda immediately entered the chamber she had
left, without casting a single look at Miss Woodley
by which she might guess of the opinion she had
formed of Mr. Rushbrook's conduct. The next
time they met they did not even mention his name ;
for they were ashamed to own a partiality in his
favour, and were too just to bring any accusation
against him.
But Miss Woodley, the day following, communi-
cated the intelligence of this visit to Mr. Sandford,
who, not having been present and a witness of those
marks of humility and respect which were con-
spicuous in the deportment of Mr. Rushbrook, was
highly offended at his presumption ; and threatened
if he ever dared to force his company there again,
he would acquaint Lord Elmwood with his arro-
gance, whatever might be the event. Miss Wood
A SIMPLE STORY. 251
lev, however, assured him, she believed he would
have no cause for such a complaint, as the young-
man had made the most solemn promise never to
commit the like offence ; and she thought it her
duty to enjoin Sandford, till he did repeat it, not to
mention the circumstance, even to Rushbrook him-
self.
Matilda could not but feel a regard for her father's
heir, in return for that which he had so fervently
declared for her : yet the more favourable her opi-
nion of his mind and manners, the more he became
an object of her jealousy for the affections of Lord
Elmwood; and he was now, consequently, an object
of greater sorrow to her than when she believed
him less worthy. These sentiments were reversed
on his part towards her : no jealousy intervened to
bar his admiration and esteem : the beauty of her
person, and grandeur of her mien, not only con-
firmed, but improved, the exalted idea he had form-
ed of her previous to their meeting, and which his
affection to both her parents had inspired. The
next time he saw his benefactor, he began to feel a
new esteem and regard for him, for his daughter's
sake ; as he had at first an esteem for her, on the
foundation of his love for Lord and Lady Elmwood.
He gazed with wonder at his uncle's insensibility to
his own happiness, and would gladly have led him to
the jewel he cast away, though even his own expul-
sion should have been the fatal consequence. Such
was the youthful, warm, generous, grateful, but un-
reflecting mind of Rushbrook.
252 A SIMPLE STORY.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
After this incident, Miss Woodley left her apart-
ments less frequently than before. She was afraid,
though till now mistrust had been a stranger to her
heart she was afraid, that duplicity might be con-
cealed under the apparent friendship of Rushbrook.
It did not indeed appear so from any part of his late
behaviour, but she was apprehensive for the fate of
Matilda: she disliked him too, and therefore she
suspected him. Near three weeks she had not now
paid a visit to Lord Elmwood ; and though to her-
self every visit was a pain, yet as Matilda took a
delight in hearing of her father, what he said, what
he did, what his attention seemed most employed
on, and a thousand other circumstantial informa-
tions, in which Sandford would scorn to be half so
particular, it was a deprivation to her, that Miss
Woodley did not go oftener. Now, too, the middle
of November was come, and it was expected her
father would soon quit his country seat.
Partly therefore to indulge her hapless companion,
and partly because it was a duty, Miss Woodley
once again paid Lord Elmwood a morning visit, and
staid dinner. Rushbrook was officiously polite, (for
that was the epithet she gave his attention in re-
lating it to Lady Matilda) ; yet she owned he had not
that forward impertinence she had formerly disco-
vered in him, but appeared much more grave and
sedate.
" But tell me of my father," said Matilda.
" I was going, my dear but don't be concerned
don't let it vex you."
"What? what?" cried Matilda, frightened by
the preface.
A SIMPLE STORY. 253
" Why, on my observing that I thought Mr.
Rushbrook looked paler than usual, and appeared
not to be in perfect health (which was really the
case), your father expressed the greatest anxiety
imaginable : he said he could not bear to see him
look so ill, begged him, with all the tenderness of a
parent, to take the advice of a physician, and added
a thousand other affectionate things."
" I detest Mr. Rushbrook," said Matilda, with
her eyes flashing indignation.
" Nay, for shame ! " returned Miss Woodley :
" do you suppose I told you this, to make you hate
him?"
" No, there was no occasion for that," replied
Matilda : " my sentiments (though I have never
before avowed them) were long ago formed : he was
always an object which added to my unhappiness ;
but since his daring intrusion into my apartments, he
has been the object of my hatred."
" But now, perhaps, I may tell you something to
please you," cried Miss Woodley.
" And what is that ?" said Matilda with indif-
ference ; for the first intelligence had hurt her spirits
too much to surfer her to listen with pleasure to any
thing.
" Mr. Rushbrook," continued Miss Woodley,
V replied to your father, that his indisposition was
but a slight nervous fever, and he would defer a
physician's advice till he went to London ; on which
Lord Elmwood said, And when do you expect to
be there'?' he replied, Within a week or two, I
suppose, my lord.' But your father answered, ' I
do not mean to go myself till after Christmas.'
' No indeed, my lord ! ' said Mr. Sandford, with
surprise : ' you have not passed your Christmas here
these many years.' * No,' returned your father ;
vol. xxvm. z
254 A SIMPLE STORY.
' but I think 1 feel myself more attached to this
house at present, than ever I did in my life.'"
" You imagine, then, my father thought of me,
when he said this ? " cried Matilda eagerly.
" But I may be mistaken," replied Miss Wood ley.
" I leave you to judge. Though I am sure Mr.
Sandford imagined he thought of you, for I saw
a smile over his whole face immediately."
" Did you, Miss Woodley V
"\es: it appeared on every feature except his
lips ; those he kept fast closed, for fear Lord Elm-
wood should perceive it."
Miss Woodley, with all her minute intelligence,
did not, however, acquaint Matilda, thatRushbrook
followed her to the window when the earl was out of
the room, and Sandford half asleep at the other end
of it, and inquired respectfully but anxiously for her;
adding, " It is my concern for Lady Matilda which
makes me thus indisposed : I suffer more than she
does ; but I am not permitted to tell her so : nor can
I hope, Miss Woodley, that you will." She replied,
" You are right, sir." Nor did she reveal this con-
versation, while not a sentence that passed, except
that, was omitted.
When Christmas arrived, Lord Elmwood had
many convivial days at Elmwood house ; but Matilda
was never mentioned by one of his guests, and most
probably was never thought of. During all those
holidays, she was unusually melancholy, but sunk
into the deepest dejection when she was told the day
was fixed, on which her father was to return to town.
On the morning of that day she wept incessantly ;
and all her consolation was, " She would go to the
chamber window that was fronting the door through
which he was to pass to his carriage, and for the first,
time, and most probably for the last time in her life,
behold him."
A SIMPLE STORY. 255
This design was soon forgot in another : " she
would rush boldly into the apartment where he was,
and at his feet take leave of him for ever : she
would lay hold of his hands, clasp his knees, provoke
him to spurn her, which would be joy in comparison
to this cruel indifference." In the bitterness of her
grief, she once called upon her mother, and re-
proached her memory ; but the moment she recol-
lected this offence (which was almost instantaneous-
ly), she became all mildness and resignation, " What
have I said?" cried she. " Dear, dear honoured
saint, forgive me ; and for your sake I will bear all
I have to bear with patience: I will not groan: I
will not even sigh again : this task 1 set myself, to
atone for what I have dared to utter."
While Lady Matilda laboured under this variety
of sensations, Miss Woodley was occupied in be-
wailing, and endeavouring to calm her sorrows ; and
Lord Elmwood, with Rushbrook, was ready to set
off. The earl, however, loitered, and did not once
seem in haste to be gone. When at last he got up
to depart, Sandford thought he pressed his hand, and
shook it with more warmth than ever he had done
in his life. Encouraged by this supposition, Sand-
ford said, " My lord, won't you condescend to take
your leave of Miss Woodley?" " Certainly, Sand-
ford," replied he, and seemed glad of an excuse to
sit down again.
Impressed with the pitiable state in which she had
left his only child, Miss Woodley, when she came
before Lord Elmwood to bid him farewel, was pale,
trembling, and in tears. Sandford, notwithstand-
ing his patron's apparently kind humour, was alarm-
ed at the construction he must put upon her ap-
pearance, and cried, " What, Miss Woodley, are
you not recovered of your illness yet?" Lord Elm-
wood, however, took no notice of her looks : but,
z 2
256 A SIMPLE STORY.
after wishing her her health, walked slowly out of
the house ; turning back frequently and speaking to
Sandford, or to some other person who was behind
him, as if part of his thoughts were left behind, and
he went with reluctance.
When he had quitted the room where Miss Wood-
ley was, Rushbrook, timid before her, as she had
been before her benefactor, went up to her, all hu-
mility, and said, " Miss Woodley, we ought to be
friends : our concern, our devotion is paid to the
same objects, and one common interest should teach
us to be friendly."
She made no reply. " Will you permit me to
write to you when I am away?" said he. " You may
wish to hear of Lord Elmwood's health, and of what
changes may take place in his resolutions. Will you
permit me?" At that moment a servant came
and said, " Sir, my lord is in the carriage, and
waiting for you." He hastened away, and Miss
Woodley was relieved from the pain of giving him a
denial.
No sooner was the travelling carriage, with all its
attendants, out of sight, than Lady Matilda was
conducted by Miss Woodley from her lonely retreat,
into that part of the house from whence her father
had just departed ; and she visited every spot where
he had so long resided, with a pleasing curiosity,
that for a while diverted her grief. In the breakfast
and dining rooms, she leaned over those seats, with a
kind of filial piety, on which she was told he had
been accustomed to sit. And, in the library, she
took up with filial delight, the pen with which he had
been writing; and looked with the most curious atten-
tion into those books that were laid upon his read-
ing desk. But a hat, lying on one of the tables, gave
her a sensation beyond any other she experienced
on this occasion : in that trifling article of his dress,
A SIMPLE STORY. 257
she thought she saw himself, and held it in her haud
with pious reverence.
In the mean time, Lord Elm wood and Rushbrook
were proceeding- on the road, with hearts not less
heavy than those which they had left at Elmwood
House ; though neither of them could so well define
the cause of this oppression, as Matilda could ac-
count for the weight which oppressed hers.
CHAPTER XL.
Young as Lady Matilda was during the life of her
mother, neither her youth, nor the recluse state in
which she lived, had precluded her from the notice
and solicitations of a nobleman who had professed
himse'f her lover. V r iscount Margrave had an estate
not far distant from the retreat Lady Elmwood had
chosen ; and being devoted to the sports of the
country, he seldom quitted it for any of those joys
which the town offered. He was a young man, of a
handsome person, and was, what his neighbours
called, " a man of spirit." He was an excellent
fox-hunter, and as excellent a companion over his
bottle at the end of the chace : he was prodigal of
his fortune, where his pleasures were concerned, and
as those pleasures were chiefly social, his sporting
companions and his mistresses (for these were also
of the plural number) partook largely of his wealth.
Two months previous to Lady Elmwood's death,
Miss Woodlev and Lady Matilda were taking their
usual walk in some fields and lanes near to their
house, when chance threw Lord Margrave in their
way during a thunder-storm, in which they were
suddenly caught; and he had the satisfaction to
convcv his new acquaintances to their home in his
z 3
258 A SIMPLE STORY.
coach, safe from the fury of the elements. Grateful
for the service he had rendered them, Miss Woodley
and her charge permitted him to inquire occasional-
ly after their health, and would sometimes see him.
The story of Lady Elmwood was known to Lord
Margrave ; and as he beheld her daughter with a
passion such as he had been unused to overcome,
he indulged it with the probable hope, that on the
death of the mother, Lord Elmwood would receive
his child, and perhaps accept him as his son-in-law.
Wedlock was not the plan which Lord Margrave
had ever proposed to himself for happiness; but the
excess of his love, on this new occasion, subdued all
the resolutions he had formed against the married
state ; and not daring to hope for the consummation
of his wishes by any other means, he suffered him-
self to look forward to marriage, as his only resource.
No sooner was the long-expected death of Lady
Elmwood arrived, than he waited with impatience
to hear that Lady Matilda was sent for and ac-
knowledged by her father ; for he meant to be the
first to lay before Lord Elmwood his pretensions as
a suitor. But those pretensions were founded on
the vague hopes of a lover only ; and M iss Woodley,
to whom he first declared them, said every thing
possible to convince him of their fallacy. As to the
object of his passion, she was not only insensible
but wholly inattentive to all that was said to her on
the subject : Lady Elmwood died without ever
being disturbed with it ; for her daughter did not
even remember his proposals so as to repeat them
again, and Miss Woodley thought it prudent to cou-
ceal from her friend every new incident which
might give her cause for new anxieties.
Wheu Sandford and the ladies left the North and
came to Elmwood House, so much were their thoughts
employed with other affairs, that Lord Margrave
A SIMPLE STORY. 250
did not occupy a place ; and (luring the whole time
they had heen at their new abode, they had never
once heard of him. He had, nevertheless, his whole
mind fixed upon Lady Matilda, and had placed
spies in the neighbourhood to inform him of every
circumstance relating to her situation. Having im-
bibed an aversion to matrimony, he heard with but
little regret that there was no prospect of her ever
becoming her father's heir, while such an informa-
tion gave him the hope of obtaining her upon the
terms of a mercenary companion.
Lord Elmwood's departure to town forwarded this
hope ; and, flattering himself that the humiliating
state in which Matilda must feel herself in the house
of her father might gladly induce her to take shel-
ter under any other protection, he boldly advanced
as soon as the earl was gone, to make such overture
as his wishes and his vanity told him could not be
rejected.
Inquiring for Miss Woodley, he easily gained ad-
mittance ; but at the sight of so much modesty and
dignity in the person of Matilda, the appearance of
so much good will, and yet such circumspection in
her female friend, and charmed at the good sense
and proper spirit which were always apparent in
Sandford, he fell once more into the dread of never
becoming to Lady Matilda any thing of more im-
portance to his reputation than a husband.
Even that humble hope was sometimes denied him,
while Sandford set forth the impropriety of troubling
Lord Elmwood on such a subject at present ; and
while the viscount's penetration, small as it was,
discovered in his fair one more to discourage than
to favour his wishes. Plunged, however, too deep
in his passion to emerge from it in haste, he meant
still to visit, and to wait for a change to happier cir-
260 A SIMPLE STORY.
cumstances, when he was peremptorily desired by
Mr. Sandford to desist from ever coming again,-
" And why, Mr. Sandford?" cried he.
" For two reasons, my lord. In the first place,
your visits might be displeasing to Lord Elmwood :
in the next place, I know they are so to his daugh-
ter."
Unaccustomed to be addressed so plainlv, par-
ticularly in a case where his heart was interested, he
nevertheless submitted with patience; but, in his
own mind, determined how long this patience should
continue no longer than it served as the means to
prove his obedience, and by that artifice to secure
his better reception at some future period.
On his return home, cheered with the huzzas of
his jovial companions, he began to consult those
friends what scheme was best to be adopted for the
accomplishment of his desires. Some boldly ad-
vised application to the father in defiance to the old
priest; but that was the very last method his lordship
himself approved, as marriage must inevitably have
followed Lord Elmwood's consent : besides, though
a peer, Lord Margrave was unused to rank with
peers ; and even the formality of an interview with
one of his equals carried along with it a terror, or
at least a fatigue, to a rustic lord. Others of his
companions advised seduction ; but happily the vis-
count possessed no arts of this kind to affect a heart
joined with such an understanding as Matilda's
There were not wanting among his most favourite
counsellors some who painted the superior triumph
and gratification of force. Those assured him there
was nothing to apprehend under this head ; as, from
the behaviour of Lord Elmwood to his child, it was
more than probable he would be utterly indifferent as
to any violence that might be offered her. This last
A SIMPLE STORY. 261
advice seemed inspired by the aid of wine ; and no
sooner had the wine freely circulated than this was
always the expedient, which appeared by far the
best.
While Lord Margrave alternately cherished his
hopes and his fears in the country, Rushbrook in
town gave way to his fears only. Every day of his
life made him more acquainted with the firm, un-
shaken temper of Lord Elmwood, and every day
whispered more forcibly to him, that pity, gratitude,
and friendship, strong and affectionate as these pas-
sions are, were weak and cold to that which had
gained the possession of his heart: he doubted, but
he did not long doubt, that which he felt was love.
" And yet," said he to himself, " it is love of
such a kind as, arising from causes independent of
the object itself, can scarcely deserve that sacred
name. Did I not love Lady Matilda before I beheld
her? For her mother's sake I loved her and even
for her father's. Should I have felt the same af-
fection for her had she been the child of other
parents ? No. Or should I have felt that sympa-
thetic tenderness which now preys upon my health,
had not her misfortunes excited if? No." Yet the
love which is the result of gratitude and pity only,
he thought had little claim to rank with his : and,
after the most deliberate and deep reflection, he
concluded with this decisive opinion He should
have loved Lady Matilda in whatever state, in what-
ever circumstances ; and that the tenderness he felt
towards her, and the anxiety for her happiness before
he knew her, extreme as they were, were yet cool
and dispassionate sensations, compared to those
which her person and demeanour had incited : and
though he acknowledged, that by the preceding sen-
timents, his heart was softened, prepared, and mould-
ed, as it were, to receive this last impression ; yet
262 A SIMPLE STORY.
the violence of his passion told him that genuine
love, if not the basis on which it was founded, had
been the certain consequence. With a strict scru-
tiny into his heart he sought this knowledge, but
arrived at it with a regret that amounted to despair.
To shield him from despondency, he formed in
his mind a thousand visions, displaying the joys of
his union with Lady Matilda ; but her father's im-
placability confounded them all. Lord Elmwood
was a man who made few resolutions ; but those
were the effect of deliberation : and as he was not
the least capricious or inconstant in his temper, they
were resolutions which no probable event could
shake. Love, which produces wonders, which se-
duces and subdues the most determined and rigid
spirits, had in two instances overcome the inflexi-
bility of Lord Elmwood : he married Lady Elmwood
contrary to his determination, because he loved ;
and for the sake of this beloved object, he had, con-
trary to his resolution, taken under his immediate
care young Rushbrook; but the magic which once
enchanted away this spirit of immutability was no
more Lady Elmwood was no more, and the charm
was broken.
As MissWoodley was deprived of the opportunity
of desiring Rushbrook not to write, when he asked
her the permission, he passed one whole morning
in the gratification of forming and writing a letter
to ber, which he thought might possibly be shown to
Matilda. As he dared not touch upon any of those
circumstances in which he was the most interested,
this, joined to the respect he wished to pay the lady
to whom he wrote, limited his letter to about twenty
lines ; yet the studious manner with which these
lines were dictated, the hope that they might, and
the fear that they might not, be seen and regarded
bv Ladv Matilda, rendered the task an anxiety so
A SIMPLE STORY. 263
pleasing, that be could have wished it might have
lasted for a year ; and in this tendency to magnify
trifles was discoverable the never-failing symptom
of ardent love.
A reply to this formal address was a reward he
wished for with impatience, but he wished in vain ;
and in the midst of his chagrin at the disappoint-
ment, a sorrow little thought of occurred, and gave
him a perturbation of mind he had never before ex-
perienced. Lord Elmwood proposed a wife to him,
and in a way so assured of his acquiescence, that if
Rushbrook's life had depended upon his daring to
dispute his benefactor's will, he would not have had
the courage to have done so. There was, however,
in his reply and his embarrassment something which
his uncle distinguished from a free concurrence ;
and, looking stedfastly at him, he said in that stern
manner which he now almost invariably assumed,
" You have no engagements, I suppose ; have
made no previous promises?"
" None on earth, my lord," replied Rushbrook
candidly.
" Nor have you disposed of your heart ?"
" No, my lord," replied he ; but not candidly,
nor with any appearance of candour : for though he
spoke hastily, it was rather like a man frightened
than assured. He hurried to tell the falsehood he
thought himself obliged to tell, that the pain and
shame might be over: but there he was deceived;
the lie once told was more troublesome than in the
conception, and added another confusion to the first.
Lord Elmwood now fixed his eyes upon him with
a sullen scorn, and, rising from his chair, said,
" Rushbrook, if you have been so inconsiderate as
to give away your heart, tell me so at once, and
tell me the object."
'264 A SIMPLE STORY.
Rushbrook shuddered at the thought.
" I here," continued the earl, " tolerate the first
untruth you ever told me, as the false assertion of a
lover; and give you an opportunity of recalling it:
but after this moment it is a lie between man and
man a lie to your friend and father, and I will not
forgive it."
Rushbrook stood silent, confused, alarmed, and
bewildered in his thoughts. Lord Elm wood pro-
ceeded :
" Name the person, if there is any, on whom you
have bestowed your heart; and though I do not
give you the hope that I shall not censure your folly,
I will at least not reproach you for having at first
denied it."
To repeat these words in writing, the reader must
condemn the young man that he could hesitate to
own he loved, if he was even afraid to name the
object of his passion ; but his interrogator had made
the two answers inseparable, so that all evasions of
the second, Rushbrook knew, would be fruitless,
after having avowed the first; and how could he
confess the latter ? The absolute orders he received
from the steward on his first return from his travels,
were, " never to mention his daughter, any more
than his late wife, before Lord Elmwood." The
fault of having rudely intruded into Lady Matilda's
presence rushed also upon his mind; for he did not
even dare to say by what means he had beheld her.
But, more than all, the threatening manner in which
this rational and apparently conciliating speech
was uttered, the menaces, the severity which sat
upon the earl's countenance while he delivered those
moderate words, might have intimidated a man
wholly independent and less used to fear him than
his nephew had been.
A SIMPLE STORY. 265
" You make no answer, sir," said Lord Elmwood,
after waiting a few moments for his reply.
" I have only to say, my lord," returned Rush-
hrook, " that although my heart may be totally
disengaged, I may yet be disinclined to marriage."
" May ! may ! Your heart may be disengaged !"
repeated he. " Do you dare to reply to me equi-
vocally, when I have asked a positive answer?"
" Perhaps I am not positive myself, my lord ;
but I will inquire into the state of my mind, and
make you acquainted with it very soon."
As the angry demeanour of his uncle affected
Rushbrook with fear, so that fear, powerfully (but
with proper manliness) expressed, again softened
the displeasure of Lord Elmwood ; and, seeing and
pitying his nephew's sensibility, he now changed his
austere voice, and said mildly, but firmly,
" I give you a week to consult with yourself: at
the expiration of that time I shall talk with you
again ; and I command you to be then prepared to
speak, not only without deceit, but without hesita-
tion." He left the room at these words, and left
Rushbrook released from a fate which his appre-
hensions had beheld impending that moment.
He had now a week to call his thoughts together,
to weigh every circumstance, and to determine
whether implicitly to submit to Lord Elmwood's
recommendation of a wife, or to revolt from it ; and
see another, with more subserviency to his will, ap-
pointed his heir.
Undetermined how to act upon this trial which
was to decide his future destiny, Rushbrook suffered
so poignant an uncertainty, that he became at length
ill ; and before the end of the week that was allotted
him for his reply, he was confined to his bed in a
high fever. Lord Elmwood was extremely affected
at his indisposition : he gave him every care he
vol. xxvm. 2 A
26G A SIMPLE STORY,
could bestow, and even much of his personal attend-
ance. This last favour had a claim upon the young
man's gratitude, superior to every other obligation
which since his infancy his benefactor had conferred ;
and he was at times so moved by those marks of
kindness he received, that he would form the inten-
tion of tearing from his heart every trace that Lady
Matilda had left there, and, as soon as his health
would permit him, obey to the utmost of his views,
every wish his uncle had conceived. Yet again, her
pitiable situation presented itself to his compassion,
and her beauteous person to his love. Divided be-
tween the claims of obligation to the father, and
tender attachment to the daughter, his illness .was
increased by the tortures of his mind, and he once
sincerely wished for that death of which he was in
danger, to free him from the dilemma in which his
affections had involved him.
At the time his disorder was at the height, and
he lay complaining of the violence of his fever, Lord
Elmwood, taking his hand, asked him " if there was
any thing he could do for him."
" Yes, yes, my lord, a great deal," he replied
eagerly.
" What is it, Harry?"
" Oh ! my lord," replied he, " that is what I must
not tell you."
" Defer it, then, till you are well," said Lord
Elmwood, afraid of being surprised or affected by
the state of his health, into any promises which he
might hereafter find the impropriety of granting.
" And when I recover, my lord, you give me
leave to reveal to you my wishes, let them be what
they will V
His uncle hesitated ; but seeing an anxiety for
the answer, by his raising himself upon his elbow in
the bed and staring wildly, Lord Elmwood at last
A SIMPLE STORY. 267
said, " Certainly yes, yes," as a child is answered
for its quiet.
That Lord Elmwood could have no suspicion
what the real petition was which Rushbrook meant
to present him, is certain ; but it is certain he ex-
pected he had some request to make with which it
might be wrong for him to comply, and therefore
he now avoided hearing what it was : for great as
his compassion for him was in his present state, it
was not of sufficient force to urge him to give a pro-
mise he did not mean to perform. Rushbrook, on
his part, was pleased with the assurance he might
speak when he was restored to health ; but no sooner
was his fever abated, and his senses perfectly re-
covered from the slight derangement his malady
had occasioned, than the lively remembrance of what
he had hinted alarmed him, and he was abashed
to look his kind but awful relation in the face.
Lord Elmwood's cheerfulness, however, on his re-
turning health, and his undiminished attention, soon
convinced him that he had nothing to fear. But,
alas ! he found, too, that he had nothing to hope.
As his health re-established, his wishes re-esta-
blished also, and with his wishes his despair.
Convinced by what had passed, that his nephew
had something on his mind which he feared to re-
veal, the earl no longer doubted but that some
youthful attachment had armed him against any
marriage he should propose; but he had so much
pity for his present weak state, as to delay that
further inquiry, which he had threatened before his
illness, to a time when his health should be entirely
restored.
It was the end of May before Rushbrook was
able to partake in the usual routine of the day.
The country was now prescribed him as the means
of complete restoration ; and as Lord Elmwood
2 A 2
268 A SIMPLE STORY.
designed to leave London some time in June, he
advised him to go to Elmwood House a week or two
before him. This advice was received with delight,
and a letter was sent to Mr. Sandford to prepare for
Mr. Rushbrook's arrival.
CHAPTER XLI.
During the illness of Rushbrook, news had been
sent of his danger, from the servants in town to those
at Elmwood House, and Lady Matilda expressed
compassion when she was told of it. She began to
conceive, the instant she thought he would soon die,
that his visit to her had merit rather than imperti-
nence in its design, and that he might possibly be a
more deserving man than she had supposed him to
be. Even Sandford and Miss Woodley began to
recollect qualifications he possessed, which they
never had reflected on before ; and Miss Woodley,
in particular, reproached herself that she had been
so severe and inattentive to him. Notwithstanding
the prospects his death pointed out to her, it was
with infinite joy she heard he was recovered ; nor
was Sandford less satisfied ; for he had treated the
young man too unkindly not to dread lest any ill
should befal him. But although he was glad to
hear of his restored health, when he was informed
he was coming down to Elmwood House for a few
weeks in the style of its master, Sandford, with all
his religious and humane principles, could not help
conceiving, that " if the youth had been properly
prepared to die, he had been as well out of the world
as in it."
He was still less his friend when he saw him ar-
rive with his usual florid complexion. Had he come
A SIMPLE STORY. 26JJ
pale and sickly, Sand ford had been kind to him ; but,
in apparently good health and spirits, he could not
form his lips to tell him he was " glad to see him."
On his arrival, Matilda, who for rive months had
been at large, secluded herself as she would have
done upon the arrival of Lord Elmwood ; but with
far different sensations. Notwithstanding her re-
striction on the latter occasion, the residence of her
father in that house had been a source of pleasure,
rather than of sorrow to her ; but from the abode
of Rushbrook she derived punishment alone.
When, from inquiries, Rushbrook found that on
his approach, Matilda had retired to her own con-
fined apartments, the thought was torture to him :
it was the hope of seeing and conversing with her,
of being admitted at all times to her society as the
mistress of the house, that had raised his spirits,,
and effected his perfect cure beyond any other
cause; and he was hurt to the greatest degree at
this respect, or rather contempt, shown to him by
her retreat.
It was, nevertheless, a subject too delicate for
him to touch upon in any one sense : an invitation
for her company, on his part, might carry the ap-
pearance of superior authority, and an affected con-
descension, which he justly considered as the worst
of all insults. And yet, how could he support the
reflection that his visit had placed the daughter of
his benefactor as a dependent stranger in that house,
where in reality he was the dependent, and she the
lawful heiress. For two or three days he suffered
the torment of these meditations, koping that he
should come to an explanation of all he felt, by a
fortunate meeting with Miss Woodley ; but when
that meeting occurred, though he observed she
talked to him with less reserve than she had formerly
done, and even gave some proofs of the native kind-
2 A 3
270 A SIMPLE STOKY.
ness of her disposition, yet she scrupulously avoided
naming Lady Matilda; and when he diffidently
inquired of her health, a cold restraint overspread
Miss Woodley's face, and she left him instantly.
To Sandford it was still more difficult for him to
apply ; for though frequently together, they were
never sociable : and as Sandford seldom disguised
his feelings, to Rushbrook he was always severe
and sometimes unmannerly.
In this perplexed situation, the country air was
rather pf detriment than service to the late invalid ;
and had he not, like a true lover, clung fast to fancied
hope, while he could perceive no reality but despair,
he would have returned to town, rather than by his
stay have placed in a subordinate state the object
of his adoration. Persisting in his hopes, he one
morning met Miss Woodley in the garden, and, en-
gaging her a longer time than usual in conversation,
at last obtained her promise " She would that day
dine with him and Mr. Sandford." But no sooner
had she parted from him, than she repented of her
consent ; and upon communicating it, Matilda, for
the first time in her life, darted upon her kind com-
panion, a look of the most cutting reproach and
haughty resentment. Miss Woodley's own sen-
timents had upbraided her before ; but she was not
prepared to receive so pointed a mark of disappro-
bation from her young friend, till now, duteous and
humble to her as to a mother, and not less affec-
tionate. Her heart was too susceptible to bear this
disrespectful and contumelious frown, from the ob-
ject of her long-devoted care and concern ; the
tears instantly covered her face, and she laid her
hands upon her heart, as if she thought it would
break. Matilda was moved ; but she possessed too
much of the manly indignation of her father, to
discover what she felt for the first few minutes.
A SIMPLE STORY. 271
Miss Woodley, who had given so many tears to her
sorrows, but never, till now, one to her anger, had a
deeper sense of this indifference than of the anger
itself, and, to conceal whatshe suffered, left the room.
Matilda, who had been till this time working at
her needle, seemingly composed, now let her work
drop from her hand, and sat for a while in a deep
reverie. At length she rose up, and followed Miss
Woodley to the other apartment. She entered
grave, majestic, and apparently serene, while her
poor heart fluttered with a thousand distressing
sensations. She approached Miss Woodley (who
was still in tears) with silence : and, awed by her
manners, the faithful friend of her deceased mother
exclaimed, " Dear Lady Matilda, think no more on
what 1 have done ; do not resent it any longer, and
I'll beg your pardon." Miss Woodley rose as she
uttered these last words ; but Matilda laid fast hold
of her to prevent the posture she offered to take,
and instantly assumed it herself: " Oh, let this be
my atonement!" she cried with the most earnest
supplication.
They interchanged forgiveness ; and as this re-
conciliation was sincere, they each, without reserve,
gave their opinion upon the subject that had caused
the misunderstanding ; and it was agreed an apology
should be sent to Mr. Rushbrook, " That Miss
Woodley had been suddenly indisposed :" nor could
this be said to differ from the truth, for since what
had passed she was unfit to pay a visit.
Rushbrook, who had been all the morning elated
with the advance he supposed he had made in that
lady's favour, was highly disappointed, vexed, and
angry, when this apology was delivered ; nor did he,
nor perhaps could he, conceal what he felt, although
his unkind observer, Mr. Sarfdford, was present.
272 A SIMPLE STORY.
" T am a very unfortunate man !" said he, as soon
as the servant was gone who. brought the message.
Sandford cast his eyes upon him with a look of
surprise and contempt.
" A very unfortunate man indeed, Mr. Sandford,"
repeated he, " although you treat my complaint
contemptuously."
Sandford made no reply, and seemed above mak-
ing one.
They sat down to dinner. Rushbrook ate scarcely
any thing, but drank frequently : Sandford took no
notice of either, but had a book (which was his
custom when he dined with persons whose conver-
sation was not interesting to him,) laid by the side
of his plate, which he occasionally looked into, as
the dishes were removing, or other opportunities
served.
Rushbrook, just now more hopeless than ever of
forming an acquaintance with Lady Matilda, began
to give way to symptoms of impatience ; and they
made their first attack, by urging him, to treat on
the same level of familiarity that he himself was
treated, Mr. Sandford, to whom he had, till now,
ever behaved with the most profound tokens of
respect.
" Come," said he to him, as soon as the dinner
was removed, " lay aside your book and be good
company."
Sandford lifted up his eyes upon him stared in
his face and cast them on the book again.
" Pshaw," continued Rushbrook, " 1 want a com-
panion ; and as Miss Woodley has disappointed me,
I must have your company."
Sandford now laid his book down upon the table ;
but, still holding his fingers in the pages he was
reading, said, " And why are you disappointed of
A SIMPLE STORY 373
Miss Woodley's company?. When people expect
what they have no right to hope, 'tis impertinent
assurance to complain they are disappointed."
" I had a right to hope she would come," an-
swered Rushbrook, " for she promised she would."
" But what right had you to ask her ?"
" The right every one has to make his time pass
as agreeably as he can."
" But not at the expence of another."
" I believe, Mr. Sandford, it would be a heavy
expence to you, to see me happy : I believe it would
cost you even your own happiness."
" That is a price I have not now to give," replied
Sandford, and began reading again.
" What, you have already paid it away 1 No won-
der that at your time of life it should be gone.
But what do you think of my having already squan-
dered mine ? "
" I don't think about you," returned Sandford,
without taking his eyes from the book.
" Can you look me in the face and say that, Mr.
Sandford 1 No, you cannot ; for you know you do
think of me, and you know you hate me." Here
he drank two glasses of wine, one after another.
" And I can tell you why you hate me," continued
he : "it is from a cause for which I often hate
myself."
Sandford read on.
"It is on Lady Matilda's account you hate me,
and use me thus."
Sandford put down the book hastily, and put both
his hands by his side.
" Yes," resumed Rushbrook, " you think I am
wronging her."
" I think you insult her," exclaimed Sandford,
" by this rude mention of her name : and I command
you at your peril to desist."
274 A SIMPLE STORY.
" At my peril ! Mr. Sandford ? Do you assume
the authority of my Lord Elmwood?"
" I do on this occasion ; and if you dare to give
your tongue a freedom"
Rushbrook interrupted him "Why then I boldly
say (and as her friend, you ought rather to applaud
than resent it,) I boldly say, that my heart suffers so
much for her situation, that I am regardless of my
own. I love her father I loved her mother more
but I love her beyond either."
" Hold your licentious tongue," cried Sandford,
" or quit the room."
" Licentious ! Oh ! the pure thoughts that dwell
in her innocent mind are not less sensual than
mine towards her. Do you upbraid me with my
respect, my pity for her? They are the sensa-
tions which impel me to speak thus undisguised,
even to you, my open no, even worse my secret
enemy !"
" Insult me as you please, Mr. Rushbrook ;
but beware how you mention Lord Elmwood's
daughter."
" Can it be to her dishonour that I pity her ;
that I would quit the house this moment never to
return, so that she supplied the place which I with-
hold from her?"
" Go, then," cried Sandford.
" It would be of no use to her, or I would. But
come, Mr. Sandford, I will dare do as much as
you. Only second me, and I will entreat Lord Elm-
wood to be reconciled to see and own her."
" Your vanity would be equal to your temerity
you entreat ? She must greatly esteem those pa-
ternal favours which your entreaties gained her !
Do you forget, young man, how short a time it is,
since you were entreated for ?''
" I prove that I do not, while this anxiety for
A SIMPLE STORY. 275
Lady Matilda, arises, from what I feel on that very
account."
" Remove your anxiety, then, from her to your-
self; for were I to let Lord Elmwood know what
has now passed"
" It is for vour own sake, not for mine, if you do
uot."
" You shall not dare me to it, Mr. Rushbrook."
And he rose from his seat. " You shall uot dare
me to do you an injury. But to avoid the tempta-
tion, I will never again come into your company,
unless my friend, Lord Elmwood, be present, to
protect me and his child from your insults.''
Rushbrook rose in yet more warmth thau Sand-
ford. " Have you the injustice to say that I have
insulted Lady Matilda ? "
" To speak of her at all, is, in you, an insult.
But you have done more You have dared to visit
her ; to force into her presence and shock her with
your offers of services which she scorns ; and with
your compassion, which she is above."
" Did she complain to you ? " . '
" She or her friend did.''
" I rather suppose, Mr. Sandford, that you have
bribed some of the servants to reveal this circum-
stance."
" The suspicion becomes Lord Elmwood's heir."
" It becomes the man who lives in a house with
you."
" I thank you, Mr. Rushbrook, for what has
passed this day : it has taken a weight off my mind.
I thought my disinclination to you might per-
haps arise from prejudice ; this conversation has
relieved me from those fears, and I thank you."
Saying this he calmly walked out of the room, and.
left Rushbrook to reflect on what he had been
doing.
276 A SIMPLE STORY.
Heated with the wine he had drank (and which
Sandford, engaged on his book, had not observed)
no sooner was he alone, than he became by degrees
cool and repentant. "What had he done?" was
the first question to himself. " He had offended
Sandford." The man, whom reason as well as pru-
dence had ever taught him to respect, and even to
revere. He had grossly offended the firm friend of
Lady Matilda, by the unreserved and wanton use
of her name. All the retorts he had uttered came
now to his memory ; with a total forgetfulness of all
that Sandford had said to provoke them.
He once thought to follow him and beg his par-
don : but the contempt with which he had been
treated, more than all the anger, withheld him.
As he sat forming plans how to retrieve the
opinion, ill as it was, which Sandford formerly
entertained of him, he received a letter from Lord
Elmwood, kindly inquiring after his health, and
saying that he should be down early in the following
week. Never were the friendly expressions of his
uncle half so welcome to him ; for they served
to sooth his imagination, racked with Sandford's
wrath, and his own displeasure.
CHAPTER XLII.
When Sandford acted deliberately, he always acted
up to his duty : it was his duty to forgive Rushbrook,
and he did so ; but he had declared he would never
" be again in his company unless Lord Elmwood
was present ;" and with all his forgiveness, he
found an unforgiving gratification in the duty of
being obliged to keep his word.
The next day Rushbrook dined alone, while
A SIMPLE STORY. 277
Sandford gave his company to the ladies. Rush-
brook was too proud to seek to conciliate Sandford
by abject concessions ; but he endeavoured to meet
him as by accident, and meant to try what, in such
a case, a submissive apology might effect. For two
days all the schemes he formed on that head proved
fruitless : he could never procure even a sight of
him. But on the evening of the third day, taking a
lonely walk, he turned the corner of a grove, and
saw in the very path he was going, Sandford accom-
panied by Miss Woodley ; and, what agitated him
infinitely more, Lady Matilda was with them. He
knew not whether to proceed, or to quit the path
and palpably shun them. To one who seemed to
put an unkind construction upon all he said and did,
he knew that to do either would be to do wrong.
In spite of the propensity he felt to pass so near to
Matilda, could he have known what conduct would
have been deemed the most respectful, to that he
would have submitted, whatever painful denial it had
cost him. But undetermined whether to go forward,
or to cross to another path, he still walked on till
he came too nigh to recede : he then, with a diffi-
dence not affected, but most powerfully felt, pulled
oft* his hat; and, without bowing, stood respectfully
silent while the company passed. Sandford walked
on some paces before, and took no further notice as
he went by him, than just touching the fore part of
his hat with his finger. Miss Woodley curtsied as
she followed. But Lady Matilda made a full stop,
and said, in the gentlest accents, " I hope, Mr.
Rush brook, you are perfectly recovered."
It was the sweetest music he had ever listened to ;
and he replied with the most reverential bow, " I
am better a great deal, ma'am." Then instantly
pursued his way as if he did not dare to utter, or
wait, for another syllable.
VOL. xxviii. 2 B
278 A SIMPLE STORY.
Sandford seldom found fault with Lady Matilda ;
not because he loved her, but because she seldom
did wrong. Upon this occasion, however, he was
half inclined to reprimand her; hut yet he did not
know what to say; the subsequent humility of
Rushbrook, had taken from the indiscretion of her
speaking to him, and the event could by no means
justify his censure. On hearing her begin to speak.
Sandford had stopped ; and as Rushbrook after re-
plying, walked away, Sandford called to her crossly,
" Come, come along;" but at the same time he put
out his elbow, for her to take hold of his arm.
She hastened her steps, and did so : then' turning
to Miss Woodley, she said, " I expected you would
have spoken to Mr. Rushbrook : it might have pre-
vented me."
Miss Woodley replied, " I was at a loss what
to do : when we met formerly, he always spoke
first."
" And he ought now," cried Sandford angrily ;
and then added, with a sarcastic smile, " It is cer-
tainly proper that the superior should be the first
who speaks."
" He did not look as if he thought himself our
superior," replied Matilda.
" No," returned Sandford ; " some people can
put on what looks they please."
" Then while he looks so pale," replied Matilda,
" and so dejected, I can never forbear speaking to
him when we meet, whatever he may think of it."
" And were he and I to meet a hundred, nay a
thousand times," returned Sandford, " I don't think
I should ever speak to him again."
"Bless me! what for, Mr. Sandford?" cried
Matilda; for Sandford, who was not a man that
repeated little incidents, had never mentioned the
circumstance of their quarrel.
A SIMPLE STORY. 279
" I have taken such a resolution," answered he ;
" yet I bear him no enmity."
As this short reply indicated that he meant to say
no more, no more was asked ; and the subject was
dropped.
In the mean time, Rushbrook, happier than he
had been for months, intoxicated with delight at
that voluntary mark of civility he had received from
Lady Matilda, felt his heart so joyous, and so free
from even - particle of malice, that he resolved, in
the humblest manner, to make atonement for the
violation of decorum he had lately committed against
Mr. Sand ford.
Too happy, at this time, to suffer a mortification
from any indignities he might receive, he sent his
servant to him into his study, as soon as he was re-
turned home, to beg to know " if he might be per-
mitted to wait upon him, with a message he had to
deliver from Lord Elmwood."
The servant returned " Mr. Sandford desired
he would send the message by him or the house-
steward." This was highly affronting ; but Rush-
brook was not in a humour to be offended, and he
sent again, begging he would admit him ; but the
answer was, " he was busy."
Thus wholly defeated in his hopes of reconciliation,
his new transports felt an allay ; and the few days
that remained before Lord Elmwood came, he passed
in solitary musing, and ineffectual walks and looks
towards that path in which he had met Matilda : she
came that way no more ; indeed, scarce quitted her
apartment, in the practice of that confinement she
was to experience on the arrival of her father.
All her former agitations now returned. On the
day he arrived she wept ; all the night she did not
sleep ; and the name of Rushbrook again became
hateful to her. The earl came in extremely good
2 B 2
280 A SIMPLE STORY.
health and spirits, but appeared concerned to find
Rushbrook less well than when he went from town.
Sandford was now under the necessity of being in
Rushbrook's company ; yet he would never speak to
him but when he was absolutely compelled, or look
at him but when he could not help it. Lord Elm-
wood observed this conduct, yet he neither won-
dered nor was offended by it. He had perceived
what little esteem Sandford had showed his nephew
from his first return : but he forgave, in Sandford's
humour, a thousand faults he would not forgive in
any other ; nor did he deem this one of his greatest
faults, knowing the demand upon his partiality from
another object.
Miss Woodley waited on Lord Elmwood as for-
merly ; dined with him, and related, as heretofore,
to the attentive Matilda, all that passed.
About this time Lord Margrave, deprived by the
season of all the sports of the field, felt his love for
Matilda (which had been violent, even though di-
vided with the love of hunting,) now too strong to
be subdued ; and he resolved, though reluctantly,
to apply to her father for his consent to their union ;
but writing to Sandford this resolution, he was
once more repulsed, and charged, as a man of ho-
nour, to forbear to disturb the tranquillity of the
family by any application of the kind. To this,
Sandford received no answer ; for the peer, highly
incensed at his mistress's repugnance to him, de-
termined more firmly than ever to consult his own
happiness alone ; and as that depended merely upon
his obtaining her, he cared not by what method it
was effected.
About a fortnight after Lord Elmwood came into
the country, as he was riding one morning, his horse
fell with him, and crushed his leg in so unfortunate
a manner as to be at first pronounced of dangerous
A SIMPLE STORY. 28L
consequence. He was brought home in a post-
cliaise, and Matilda heard of the accident with more
grief than would, perhaps, on such an occasion,
have appertained to the most fondled child.
In consequence of the pain he suffered, his fever
was one night very high ; and Sandford, who seldom
quitted his apartment, went frequently to his bed-
side, every time with the secret hope he should hear
him ask to see his daughter: he was every time
disappointed ; yet he saw him shake, with a cordial
friendship, the hand of Rushbrook, as if he delighted
in seeiug those he loved.
The danger in which Lord Elmwood was sup-
posed to be was but of short duration, and his sud-
den recovery succeeded. 'Matilda, who had wept,
moaned, and watched during the crisis of his illness,
when she heard he was amending, exclaimed, (with
a kind of surprise at the novelty of the sensation),
" And this is joy that I feel ! Oh ! I never till
now knew what those persons felt who experienced
joy."
Nor did she repine, like Mr. Sandford and Miss
Woodley, at her father's inattention to her during
his malady ; for she did not hope like them she did
not hope he would behold her, even in dying.
But, notwithstanding his seeming indifference,
while his indisposition continued, no sooner was he
recovered so as to receive the congratulations of
his friends, than there was no one person he evi-
dently showed so much satisfaction at seeing as
Miss Woodley. She waited upon him timorously,
and with more than ordinary distaste at his late
conduct, when he put out his hand with the utmost
warmth to receive her, drew her to him, saluted
her (an honour he had never in his life conferred
before), and with signs of the sincerest friendship
and affection. Sandford was present; and, ever
2 R 3
282 A SIMPLE STORY.
associating the idea of Matilda with Miss Woodley,
felt his heart bound with a triumph it had not enjoyed
for many a day.
Matilda listened with delight to the recital Miss
Woodley gave on her return, and, many times while
it lasted, exclaimed, " She was happy." But poor
Matilda's sudden transports of joy, which she
termed happiness, were not made for long con-
tinuance: and if she ever found cause for gladness,
she far oftener had motives for grief.
As Mr. Sandford was sitting with her and Miss
Woodley one evening, about a week after, a person
rang at the bell and inquired for him. On being-
told of it by the servant, he went to the door of the
apartment, and cried, " Oh ! is it you? Come in."
An elderly man entered, who had been for many
years the head gardener at Elmwood House a man
of honesty and sobriety, and with an indigent family
of aged parents, children, and other relations, who
subsisted wholly on the income arising from his
place. The ladies, as well as Sandford, knew him
well : and they all, almost at once, asked, " what
was the matter ; " for his looks told them something
distressful had befallen him.
" Oh, sir ! " said he to Sandford, " I come to en-
treat your interest."
" In what, Edwards ?" said Sandford with a mild
voice : for, when his assistance was supplicated in
distress, his rough tones always took a plaintive
key.
" My lord has discharged me from his service ! "
returned Edwards, trembling, and the tears start-
ing in his eyes : " I am undone, Mr. Sandford, unless
you plead for me."
" I will," said Sandford, " I will."
'" And yet 1 am almost afraid of your success,"
replied the man; " for my lord has ordered me out
A SIMPLE STORY. 283
of his house this moment; and though I knelt down
to him to be heard, he had no pity."
Matilda sighed from the bottom of her heart, and
yet she envied this poor man, who had been kneeling
to her father.
" What was your offence ?" eried Sandford.
The man hesitated ; then, looking at Matilda,
said, " I'll tell you, sir, some other time." '
" Did you name me, before Lord Elmwood ? "
cried she, eagerly, and terrified.
" No, madam," replied he, " but I unthinkingly
spoke of my poor lady who is dead and gone."
Matilda burst into tears.
" How came you to do so mad a thing?" cried
Sandford ; and the encouragement which his looks
had once given him now fled from his face.
" It was unthinkingly," repeated Edwards : " 1
was showing my lord some plans for the new walks,
and told him, among other things, that her ladyship
had many years ago approved of them. ' Who ? '
cried he. Still I did not call to mind, but said,
' Lady Elmwood, sir, while you were abroad'
As soon as these words were delivered, I saw my
doom in his looks, and he commanded me to quit
his house and service that instant."
" I am afraid," said Sandford, shaking his head,
*' I can do nothing for you."
" Yes, sir, you know you have more power over
my lord than any body ; and perhaps you maj be
able to save me and all mine from misery."
" 1 would, if I could," replied Sandford, quickly.
" You can but try, sir."
Matilda was all this while bathed in tears ; nor
was Miss Woodley much less affected. Lady Elm-
wood was before their eyes ; Matilda beheld her in
her dying moments ; Miss Woodley saw her as the
gay ward of Dorriforth.
284 A SIMPLE STORY.
" Ask Mr. Rushbrook," said Sandford : " pre-
vail on him to speak for you : he has more power
than I have."
" He has not enough, then," replied Edwards ;
" for he was in the room with my lord when what I
have told you happened."
" And did he say nothing? " asked Sandford.
" Yes, sir ; he offered to speak in my behalf, but
my lord interrupted him, and ordered him out of the
room : he instantly went."
Sandford, now observing the effect which this
narration had on the two ladies, led the man to his
own apartments, and there assured him he dared not
undertake his cause ; but that if time or chance
should happily make an alteration in his lord's dis-
position, he would be the first who would endeavour
to replace him. Edwards was obliged to submit ;
and before the next day at noon, his pleasant house
by the side of the park, his garden, and his orchard,
which he had occupied above twenty years, were
cleared of their old inhabitant, and all his wretched
family.
CHAPTER XLIII.
This melancholy incident, perhaps affected Matilda,
and all the friends of the deceased Lady Elmwood,
beyond any other that had occurred since her death.
A few days after this circumstance, Miss Woodley,
in order to divert the disconsolate mind of Lady Ma-
tilda, (and in the hope of bringing her some little
anecdotes, to console her for that which had given
her so much pain,) waited upon Lord Elmwood in his
library, and borrowed some books out of it. He
was now perfectly well from his fall, and received
A SIMPLE STORY. 25
her with his usual politeness, hut, of course, not with
that peculiar warmth which he had discovered when
he received her just after his illness. Rushbrook
was in the library at the same time : he shewed her
several beautiful prints which Lord Elmwood had
just received from London, and appeared anxious to
entertain and give tokens of his esteem and respect
for her. But what gave her pleasure beyond any
other attention, was, that after she had taken (by
the aid of Rushbrook) about a dozen volumes from
different shelves, and had laid them together, saying
she would send her servant to fetch them, Lord
Elmwood went carefully to the place where they
were, and, taking up each book, examined minutely
what it was. One author he complained was too
light, another too depressing, and put them on the
shelves again ; another was erroneous, and he
changed it for a better. Thus, he warned her
against some, and selected other authors, as the
most cautious preceptor culls for his pupil, or a
fond father for his darling child. She thanked
him for his attention to her, but her heart thanked
him for his attention to his daughter : for as she
had herself never received such a proof of his care
since all their long acquaintance, she reasonably
supposed, that Matilda's reading, and not hers, was
the object of his solicitude.
Having in these books store of comfort for poor
Matilda, she eagerly returned with them ; and in re-
citing every particular circumstance, made her consi-
der the volumes, almost like presents from her father.
The month of September was now arrived ; and
Lord Elmwood, accompanied by Rushbrook, went
to a small shooting seat, near twenty miles distant
from Elmwood Castle, for a week's particular sport.
Matilda was once more at large ; and one beautiful
286 A SIMPLE STORY.
morning, about eleven o'clock, seeing Miss Woodley
walking on the lawn before the house, she hastily
took her hat to join her ; and not waiting to put it
on, went nimbly down the great staircase with it
hanging on her arm. When she had descended a
few stairs, she heard a footstep proceeding slowly
up ; and (from what emotion she could not tell)
she stopped short, half resolved to return back.
She hesitated a single instant whether she should or
not then went a few steps further till she came to
the second landing-place ; when, by the sudden
winding of the staircase, Lord Elmwood was imme-
diately before her !
She had felt something like affright before she saw
him ; but her reason told her she had nothing to
fear, as he was away. But now, the appearance of
a stranger whom she had never before seen ; the
authority in his looks, as well as in the sound of his
steps ; a resemblance to the portrait she had been
shown of him ; a start of astonishment which he gave
on beholding her ; but above all, her ftais confirmed
her that it was him. She gave a scream of terror ;
put out her trembling hands to catch the balustrades
for support missed them and fell motionless into
her father's arms.
He caught her, as, by the same impulse, he would
have caught any other person falling for want of
aid. Yet when he found her in his arms, he still
held her there, gazed on her attentively, and once
pressed her to his bosom.
At length trying to escape the snare into which
he had been led, he was going to leave her on the
spot where she fell, when her eyes opened, and she
uttered, "Save me!" Her voice unmanned him.
His long-restrained tears now burst forth, and seeing
her relapsing into the swoon, he cried out eagerly to
A SIMPLE STORY. 287
recal her. Her name did not, however, come to
his recollection nor any name but this : " Miss
Milner Dear Miss Milner ! "
That sound did not awaken her : and now again
he wished to leave her in this senseless state, that,
not remembering what had passed, she might escape
the punishment.
But at this instant, Giftard, with another servant,
passed by the foot of the stairs ; on which, Lord
Ehuwood called to them, and into Giffard's hands
delivered his apparently dead child, without one
command respecting her, or one word of any kind ;
while his face was agitated with shame, with pity,
with anger, with paternal tenderness.
As Giftard stood trembling, while he relieved his
lord from this hapless burthen, her father had to
unloose her hand from the side of his coat, which
she had caught fast hold of as she fell, and grasped
so closely, it was with difficulty removed. On at-
tempting to take the hand away he trembled, fal-
tered, then bade Giffard do it.
" Who? 1, my lord ! I separate you ! " cried he.
But recollecting himself, " My lord, I will obey
your commands whatever they are." And seizing
her hand, pulled it with violence : it fell, and her
father went away.
Matilda was carried to her own apartments, laid
upon the bed ; and Miss Woodley hasted to attend
her, after listening to the recital of what had passed.
When Lady Elmwood"s old and affectionate friend
entered the room, and saw her youthful charge
lying pale and speechless, yet no father by to com-
fort or sooth her, she lifted up her hands to Heaven
exclaiming, with a burst of tears, " And is this the
end of thee, my poor child ? Is this the end of all
our hopes of thy own fearful hopes and of thy
288 A SIMPLE STORY.
mother's supplications X Oh, Lord Elmwood ! Lord
Elmwood ! "
At that name Matilda started, and cried,
"Where is he? Is it a dream, or have I seen
him? "
" It is all a dream, my dear," said Miss Woodley.
" And yet I thought he held me in his arms,"
she replied: " I thought I felt his hands press mine.
Let me sleep and dream again."
Now thinking it best to undeceive her, " It is no
dream, my dear," returned Miss Woodley.
" Is it not?" cried she, rising up, and leaning on
her elbow. " Then I suppose I must go away go
for ever away."
Sandford now entered. Having been told the
news, he came to condole ; but at the sight of him
Matilda was terrified, and cried, " Do not reproach
me, do not upbraid me ; I know I have done wrong
I know I had but one command from my father,
and that I have disobeyed."
Sandford could not reproach her, for he could not
speak : he therefore only walked to the window and
concealed his tears.
That whole day and night was passed in sympa-
thetic grief, in alarm at every sound, lest it should
be a messenger to pronounce Matilda's destiny.
Lord Elmwood did not stay upon this visit above
three hours at Elmwood House: he then set oft*
again for the seat he had left, where Rushbrook
still remained, and from whence his lordship had
merely come by accident, to look over some writings
which he wanted immediately dispatched to town.
During his short continuance here, Sandford cau-
tiously avoided his presence ; for he thought, in a
case like this, what nature would not of herself effect,
no art, no arguments of his, could accomplish : to
A SIMPLE STORY. 289
Nature, then, and Providence he left the whole.
What these two powerful principles brought about,
the reader will be informed, when he peruses the
following letter, received early the next morning by
Miss Woodlev.
CHAPTER XLIV.
A LETTER FROM GIFFARD, LORD ELMWOOD S
HOUSE STEWARD, TO MISS WOODLEY.
" MADAM,
" My lord, above a twelvemonth ago, acquainted
me he had permitted his daughter to reside in his
house ; but at the same time he informed me, the
grant was under a certain restriction, which, if ever
broken, . 1 was to see his then determination (of
which he also acquainted me) put in execution. In
consequence of Lady Matilda's indisposition, ma-
dam, I have ventured to delay this notice till morn-
ing. I need not say with what concern I now give
it, or mention to you, I believe, what is forfeited.
My lord staid but a few hours yesterday, after the
unhappy circumstance on which I write took place;
nor did I see him after, till he was in his carriage :
he then sent for me to the carriage door, and told
me he should be back in two days' time, and added,
' Remember your duty.' That duty, I hope, madam,
you will not require me to explain in more direct
terms. As soon as my lord returns, I have no doubt
but he will ask me if it is fulfilled ; and I shall be
under the greatest apprehension, should his com-
mands not be obeyed-.
" If there is any thing wanting for the convenience
of your and Lady Matilda's departure, you have
vol. xxvni. 2 c
'290 A SIMPLE STORY.
but to order it, and it is at your service : I mean
likewise any cash you may have occasion for. I
should presume to add my opinion where you might
best take up your abode ; but with such advice as
you will have from Mr. Sandford, mine would be
but assuming.
" I would also have waited upon you, madam, and
have delivered myself the substance of this letter ;
but I am an old man, and the changes I have been
witness to in my lord's house, since I first lived in it,
have added, I think, to my age many a year ; and I
have not the strength to see you upon this occasion.
I loved my lady I love my lord and I love their
child : nay, so I am sure does my lord himself; but
there is no accounting for his resolutions, or for
the alteration his disposition has lately undergone.
" I beg pardon, madam, for this long intrusion,
and am, and ever will be (while you and my lord's
daughter are so), your afflicted humble servant,
" ROBERT GIFFARD."
" Elmwood House,
" Sept. 12."
When this letter was brought to Miss Woodley,.
she knew what it contained before she opened it, and
therefore took it with an air of resignation : yet
though she guessed the momentous part of its con-
tents, she dreaded in what words it might be related ;
and having now no essential good to expect, hope,
that will never totally expire, clung at this crisis to
little circumstances ; and she hoped most fervently
the terms of the letter might not be harsh, but that
Lord Elmwood had delivered his final sentence in
gentle language. The event proved he had ; and,
lost to every important comfort, she felt grateful to
him for this small one.
Matilda, too, was cheered by this letter; for shn
A SIMPLE STORY. 291
expected something worse ; and one of the last
lines, in which Giftard said he knew " his lordship
loved her," she thought repaid her for the purport
of the other part.
Sandford was not so easily resigned or comforted.
He walked about the room when the letter was
shown to him called it cruel stifled his tears, and
wished to show his resentment only ; but the former
burst through all his endeavours, and he sunk into
grief.
Nor was the fortitude of Matilda, which came to
her assistance on the first onset of this trial, suffi-
cient to arm her, when the moment came she was to
quit the house her father's house never to see
that or him again.
When word was brought that the carriage was at
the door, which was to convey her from all she held
so dear, and she saw before her the prospect of a
long youthful and healthful life, in which misery and
despair were all she could discern ; that despair
seized her at once, and gaining courage from her
sufferings, she cried,
" What have I to fear, if I disobey my father's
commands once more ? He cannot use me worse.
I'll stay here till he returns again throw myself in
his way, and then 1 will not faint, but plead for
mercy. Perhaps, were I to kneel to him kneel,
like other children to their parents and beg his
blessing, he would not refuse it me."
" You must not try," said Sandford, mildly.
" Who," cried she, " shall prevent my flying to
iay father? Have I another friend on earth ? Have
I one relation in the world but him? This is the
second time I have been turned from his house.
In my infant state my cruel father turned me out ;
but then he sent me to a mother : now I have none ;
and I will stay with him."
2 c 2
292 A SIMPLE STORY.
Again the steward sent to let them know the coach
was waiting.
Sandford, now, with a determined countenance,
went coolly up to Lady Matilda, and taking her
hand, seemed resolved to lead her to the carriage.
Accustomed to be awed by every serious look of
his, she yet resisted this ; and cried, " Would you
be the minister of my father's cruelty"?"
" Then," said Sandford, solemnly to her, " fare-
well from this moment you and I part. I will take
my leave, and do you remain where you are at
least till you are forced away. But I'll not stay to
be driven hence; for it is impossible your father will
suffer any friend of yours to continue here after this
disobedience. Adieu."
" I'll go this moment," said she, and rose hastily.
Miss Woodley took her at her word, and hurried
her immediately out of the room.
Sandford followed slow behind, as if he had fol-
lowed at her funeral.
When she came to that spot on the stairs where
she had met her father, she started back, and scarce
knew how to pass it. When she had " There he
held me in his arms," said she : " and I thought I
felt him press me to his heart ; but I now find I was
mistaken."
As Sandford came forward to hand her into the
coach "Now you behave well," said he: " by this
behaviour, you do not entirely close all prospect of
reconciliation with your father."
" Do you think it is not yet impossible ?" cried
she, clasping his hand. " Giffard says he loves
me," continued she ; " and do you think he might
yet be brought to forgive me V
" Forgive you !" cried Sandford.
" Suppose I was to write to him, and entreat his
forgiveness?"
A SIMPLE STORY. 293
" Do not write yot," said Sand ford, with no
cheering accent.
The carriage drove off : and as it went, Matilda
leaned her head from the window, to survey Elmwood
House from the roof to the foundation. She cast her
eyes upon the gardens, too upon the fish-ponds-
even the coach-houses, and all the offices adjoining
which, as objects that she should never see again,
she contemplated as objects of importance.
CHAPTER XLV.
Rushbrook, who, at twenty miles distance, could
have no conjecture what had passed at Elmwood
House during the short visit Lord Elmwood made
there, went that way with his dogs and gun, in order
to meet him on his return, and accompany him in
the chaise back. He did so : and getting into the
carriage, told him eagerly the sport he had had
during the day ; laughed at an accident that had
befallen one of his dogs ; and for some time did not
perceive but that his uncle was perfectly attentive.
At length, observing he answered more negligently
than usual to what he said, Rushbrook turned his
eyes quickly upon him, and cried,
" My lord, are you not well V
" Yes; perfectly well, I thank you, Rushbrook ;"
and he leaned back against the carriage.
" I thought, sir," returned Rushbrook, " you
spoke languidly I beg your pardon."
" I have the head-ache a little," answered he :
then taking off his hat, brushed the dust from it ;
and, as he put it on again, fetched a most heavy
sigh ; which no sooner had escaped him, than, to
drown its sound, he said briskly,
2C 3
2fi4 A SIMPLE STORY.
" And so you tell me you have had good sport
to-day ?"
" No, ray lord ; I said but indifferent."
" True ; so you did. Bid the man drive faster :
it will be dark before we get home."
" You will shoot to-morrow, my lord ?"
" Certainly."
" How does Mr. Sandford do, sir?"
" I did not see .him."
" Not see Mr. Sandford, my lord ! But he was
out, I suppose ; for they did not expect you at
Elmwood House."
" No, they did not."
In such conversation Rushbrook and his uncle
continued to the end of their journey. Dinner was
then immediately served ; and Lord Elmwood ap-
peared much in his usual spirits ; at least, not sus-
pecting any cause for their abatement, Rushbrook
did not observe any alteration.
Lord Elmwood went, however, earlier to bed than
ordinary, or rather to his bed-chamber ; for though
he retired some time before his nephew, when Rush-
brook passed his chamber-door, it was open, and
he not in bed, but sitting in a musing posture, as if
he had forgot to shut it.
When Rushbrook's valet came to attend his mas-
ter, he said to him,
" I suppose, sir, you do not know what has hap-
pened at the castle."
" For Heaven's sake, what?" cried Rushbrook.
" My lord has met Lady Matilda," replied the
man.
" How? Where? What's the consequence?"
" We don't know yet, sir : but all the servants
suppose her ladyship will not be suffered to remain
there any longer."
" They all suppose wrong," returned Rushbrook,
A SIMPLE STORY. 295
hastily " My lord loves her, I am certain, and this
event may be the happy means of his treating her
as his child from this day."
The servant smiled, and shook his head.
" Why, what more do you know V
" Nothing more than 1 have told you, sir, except
that his lordship took no kind of notice of her lady-
ship that appeared like love."
Rushbrook was all uneasiness and anxiety to know
the particulars of what had passed ; and now Lord
Elmwood's inquietude, which he had but slightly
noticed before, came full to his observation. He
was going to ask more questions ; but he recollected
that Lady Matilda's misfortunes were too sacred to
be talked of thus familiarly by the servants of the
family : besides, it was evident this man thought,
and but naturally, it might not be for his master's
interest the father and the daughter should be
united ; and therefore would give to all he said the
opposite colouring.
In spite of his prudence, however, and his delicacy
towards Matilda, Rushbrook could not let his valet
leave him till he had inquired, and learned all the
circumstantial account of what had happened ; ex-
cept, indeed, the order received by Giffard, which
being given after Lord Elmwood was in his carriage
and in concise terms, the domestics who attended
him (and from whom this man had gained his in-
telligence) were unacquainted with it.
When the servant had left Rushbrook alone, the
perturbation of his mind was so great, that he was
at length undetermined whether to go to bed, or to
rush into his uncle's apartment, and at his feet beg
for that compassion upon his daughter which he
feared he had denied her. But then, to what peril
would he not expose himself by such a step I Nay,
he might, perhaps, even injure her whom he wished
29G A SIMPLE STORY.
to serve ; for if his uncle was at present unresolved
whether to forgive or to resent this disobedience to
his commands, another's interference might enrage
and precipitate him on the latter resolution.
This consideration was so weighty, it resigned
Rushbrook to the suspense he was compelled to
endure till the morning, when he flattered himself
that by watching every look and motion of Lord
Elmwood, his penetration would be able to discover
the state of his heart, and how he meant to act.
But the morning came, and he found all his pry-
ing curiosity was of no avail : Lord Elmwood did
not drop one word, give one look, or use one action
that was not customary.
On first seeing him, Rushbrook blushed at the
secret with which he was entrusted ; then, as he
gazed on the earl, contemplated the joy he ought
to have known in clasping in his arms a child like
Matilda, whose tenderness, reverence, and duty
had deprived her of all sensation at his sight; which
was, in Rushbrook's mind, an honour that rendered
him superior to what he was before.
They were in the fields all the day as usual :
Lord Elmwood now cheerful, and complaining no
more of the head-ache. Yet once being separated
from his nephew, Rushbrook crossed over a stile
into another field, and found him sitting by the side
of a bank, his gun lying by him, and himself lost in
thought. He rose on seeing him, and proceeded to
the sport as before.
At dinner, he said he should not go to Elmwood
House the next day, as he had appointed, but stay
where he was three or four days longer. From
these two small occurrences, Rushbrook would fain
have extracted something by which to judge the
state of his mind ; but upon the test that was im
possible : he had caught him so musing many a time
A SIMPLE STORY. 297
before ; and as to his prolonging his gtay, that might
arise from the 6port : or, indeed, had any thing more
material swayed him, who could penetrate whether
it was the effect of the lenity, or the severity, he
had dealt towards his child ; whether his continu-
ance there was to shun her, or to shun the house
from whence he had banished her ?
The three or four days for their temporary abode
being passed, they both returned together to Elm-
wood House. Rushbrook thought he saw his uncle's
countenance change as they entered the avenue;
yet he did not appear less in spirits; and when Sand-
ford joined them at dinner, the earl went with his
usual attention to him, and (as was his custom after
any separation) put out his hand cheerfully to take
his. Sandford said, " How do you do, my lord?"
cheerfully in return ; but put both his hands into his
bosom, and walked to the other side of the room.
Lord Elm wood did not seem to observe this affront;
nor was it done as an affront : it was merely what
poor Sandford could not help ; for he felt that he
could not shake hands with him.
Rushbrook soon learned the news that Matilda
was gone; and Elmwood House was to him a desert
he saw there no real friend of hers, except poor
Sandford, and to him Rushbrook knew himself now
more displeasing than ever ; and all his overtures of
atonement he, at this time, found more and more
ineffectual. Matilda was exiled ; and her supposed
triumphant rival was, to Sandford, odious beyond
what he had ever been.
In alleviation of their banishment, Miss Woodley,
with her charge, had not returned to their old re-
treat ; but were gone to a farm-house, not farther
than thirty miles from Lord Elmwood's. Here Sand
ford, with little inconvenience, visited them; nor did
298 A SIMPLE STORY.
his patron ever take notice of his occasional absence :
for as he had before given his daughter, in some
measure, to his charge, so honour, delicaqy, and the
common ties of duty, made him approve, rather than
condemn, his attention to her.
Though Sandford's frequent visits soothed Ma-
tilda, they could not comfort her ; for he had no
consolation to bestow that was suited to her mind ;
her father having given no one token of regret for
what he had done. He had even inquired sternly of
Giffard, on his returning home,
" If Miss Woodley had left the house."
The steward guessing the whole of his meaning,
answered, " Yes, my lord ; and all your commands
in that respect have been obeyed."
He replied, " I am satisfied." And, to the grief
of the old man, he appeared really so.
To the farm-house, the place of Matilda's resi-
dence, there came, besides Sandford, another visitor
far less welcome Viscount Margrave. He had
heard with surprise, and still greater joy, that Lord
Elmwood had once more closed his doors against his
daughter. In this her discarded state, he no longer
burthened his lively imagination with the dull
thoughts of marriage, but once more formed the
barbarous design of making her his mistress.
Ignorant of a certain decorum which attended all
Lord Elmwood's actions, he suspected that his child
might be in want ; and an acquaintance with the
worst part of her sex informed him, that relief from
poverty was the sure bargain for his success. With
these hopes, he again paid Miss Woodley and her a
visit ; but the coldness of the former, and the haugh-
tiness of the latter, still kept him at a distance, and
again made him fear to give one allusion to his pur-
pose : but he returned home, resolved to write what
A SIMPLE STORY. 209
he durst not speak. He did so he offered his ser-
vices, his purse, his house : they were rejected with
disdain, and a stronger prohibition than ever given
to his visits.
CHAPTER XLVI.
Lord Elmwood had now allowed Rushbrook a long
vacation, in respect to his answer upon the subject
of marriage ; and the young man vainly imagined
his intentions upon that subject were entirely given
up. One morning, however, as he was with him
in the library,
" Henry" said his uncle, with a pause at the
beginning of his speech, which indicated that he was
going to say something of importance, " Henry
you have not forgot the discourse I had with you a
little time previous to your illness ?"
Henry paused too for he wished to have for-
gotten it but it was too strongly impressed upon
his memory. Lord Elmwood resumed,
"What! equivocating again, sir? Do you re-
member it, or do you not?"
" Yes, my lord, I do."
" And are you prepared to give me an answer ? "
Rushbrook paused again.
" In our former conversation," continued the
earl, " I gave you but a week to determine : there
has, I think, elapsed since that time half a year."
" About as much, sir."
" Then surely you have now made up your mind ?"
" I had done that at first ray lord if it had met
with your concurrence."
" You wished to lead a bachelors life, I think
jou said?"
300 A SIMPLE STORY.
Rushbrook bowed.
" Contrary to my will ?"
" No, my lord, I wished to have your approba-
tion."
" And you wished for my approbation of the very
opposite thing to that which I proposed ? But I am
not surprised : such is the gratitude of the world ;
and such is yours."
" My lord, if you doubt my gratitude "
" Give me a proof of it, Harry, and I will doubt
no longer."
" Upon every other subject but this, my lord,
Heaven is my witness that your desires "
Lord Elmwood interrupted him : " I understand
you : upon every other subject, but the only one
which my content requires, you are ready to obey
me. I thank you."
" My lord, do not torture me with this suspicion :
it is so contrary to my deserts, that I cannot bear
it."
" Suspicion of your ingratitude ! you judge too
favourably of my opinion it amounts to certainty."
" Then to convince you, sir, I am not ungrateful
tell me who the lady is you have chosen for me,
and here I give you my word, I will sacrifice all my
future prospects of happiness; all, for which I would
wish to live ; and become her husband as soon as
you shall appoint."
This was spoken with a tone so expressive of
despair, that Lord Elmwood replied,
" And while you obey me, you take care to let me
know, it will cost you your future peace. This is,
I suppose, to enhance the merit of the obligation
but I shall not accept your acquiescence on these
terms."
" Then, in dispensing with it, I hope for your
pardon."
A SIMPLE STORY. 301
" Do you suppose, Rushbrook, I can pardon an
oftence, the sole foundation of which arises from a
spirit of disobedience; for you have declared to me
your affections are disengaged. In our last conver-
sation did you not say so V
" At first I did, my lord ; but you permitted me
to consult my heart more closely ; and I have since
found that I was mistaken."
" You then own you at first told me a falsehood,
and yet have all this time kept me in suspense with-
out confessing it."
" I waited, my lord, till you should inquire "
" You have then, sir, -waited too long," and the
fire flashed from his eyes.
Rusii brook now found himself in that perilous
state, that admitted of no medium of resentment,
but by such dastardly conduct on his part as would
wound both his truth and courage; and thus, ani-
mated by his danger, he was resolved to plunge
boldly at once into the depth of his patron's anger.
" My lord," said he, (but he did not undertake
this task without sustaining the trembling and con-
vulsion of his whole frame), " My lord waving for
a moment the subject of my marriage permit me
to remind you, that when I was upon my sick bed,
you promised, that on my recovery you would listen
to a petition I should offer to you."
" Let me recollect," replied he. " Yes I do
remember something of it. But 1 said nothing to
warrant any improper petition."
" Its impropriety was not named, my lord."
" No matter that you must judge of, and answer
for the consequences."
" 1 would answer with my life, willingly but I
own that I shrink from your displeasure."
" Then do not provoke it."
" I have already gone too far to recede ; and you
VOL. XXVIII. 2 D
302 A SIMPLE STORY.
would of course demand an explanation, if I attempt-
ed to stop here."
" I should."
" Then, my lord, I am bound to speak but do
not interrupt me : hear me out, before you banish
me from your presence for ever."
" I will, sir," replied he, prepared to hear some-
thing that would excite his resentment, and yet de-
termined to hear with patience to the conclusion.
" Then, my lord," (cried Rushbrook, in the
greatest agitation of mind and body), " your daugh-
ter"
The resolution Lord Elmwood had taken (and on
which he had given his word to his nephew not to
interrupt him) immediately gave way. The colour
rose in his face his eye darted lightning and his
hand was lifted up with the emotion that word had
created.
" You promised to hear me, my lord," cried
Rushbrook, " and I claim your promise."
He now suddenly overcame his violence of pas-
sion, and stood silent and resigned to hear him ; but
with a determined look, expressive of the vengeance
that should ensue.
" Lady Matilda," resumed Rushbrook, " is an
object that wrests from me the enjoyment of every
blessing your kindness bestows. I cannot but feel
myself as her adversary as one who has supplanted
her in your affections who supplies her place while
she is exiled, a wanderer, and an orphan."
The earl took his eyes from Rushbrook, during
this last sentence, and cast them on the floor.
" If I feel gratitude towards you, my lord'', con-
tinued he, " gratitude is innate in my heart ; and I
must also feel it towards her who first introduced
me to your protection."
Again the colour flew to Lord Elmwood's face ;
A SIMPLE STORY. 303
and again he could hardly restrain himself from ut-
tering his indignation.
" It was the mother of Lady Matilda,'' continued
Rushbrook, " who was this friend to me ; nor will I
ever think of marriage, or any other joyful prospect,
while you abandon the only child of my beloved
patroness, and load me with rights which belong to
her."
Here Rushbrook stopped : Lord Elmwood was
silent too, for near half a minute ; but still his coun-
tenance continued fixed with his unvaried resolves.
After this long pause, the earl said with compo-
sure, which denoted firmness, " Have you finished,
Mr. Rushbrook ?"
" All that I dare to utter, my lord ; and 1 fear 1
have already said too much."
Rushbrook now trembled more than ever, and
looked pale as death ; for the ardour of speaking
being over, he waited his sentence, with less con-
stancy of mind than he expected he should.
" You disapprove my conduct, it seems," said
Lord Elmwood ; " and in that you are but like the
rest of the world ; and yet, among all my acquaint-
ance, you are the only one who has dared to insult
me with your opinion. And this you have not done
inadvertently, but willingly and deliberately. But
as it has been my fate to be used ill, and severed
from all those persons to whom my soul has been
most attached, with less regret I can part from you
than if this were my first trial."
There was a truth and a pathetic sound in the ut-
terance of these words that struckRushbrook to the
heart ; and he beheld himself as a barbarian, who
had treated his benevolent and only friend with
insufferable liberty void of respect for those cor-
roding sorrows which had imbittered so many years
of his life, and in open violation of his most peremp-
2 D 2
304 A SIMPLE STORY.
tory commands. He felt that he deserved all he
was going to sutler, and he fell upon his knees ; not
so much to deprecate the doom he saw impending,
as thus humbly to acknowledge it was his due.
Lord Elm wood, irritated by this posture, as a
sign of the presumptuous hope that he might be
forgiven, suffered now his anger to burst all bounds ;
and raising his voice, he exclaimed with rage,
" Leave my house, sir. Leave my house instant-
ly, and seek some other home."
Just as these words were begun, Sandford opened
the library door, was witness to them, and to the
imploring situation of Rushbrook. He stood silent
with amazement !
Rushbrook arose, and feeling in his mind a pre-
sage, that he might never from that hour behold
his benefactor more, as he bowed in token of obe-
dience to his commands, a shower of tears covered
his face ; but Lord Elmwood, unmoved, fixed his
eyes upon him, which pursued him with enraged
looks to the end of the room. Here he had to pass
Sandford ; who, for the first time in his life, took
hold of him by the hand, and said to Lord Elmwood,
" My lord, what's the matter ?"
" That ungrateful villain," cried he, " has dared
to insult me. Leave my house this moment, sir."
Rushbrook made an effort to go, but Sandford
still held his hand ; and meekly said to Lord Elm-
wood,
" He is but a boy, my lord, and do not give him
the punishment of a man."
Rushbrook now snatched his hand from Sand-
ford's, and threw it with himself upon his neck ;
where he indeed sobbed like a boy.
" You are both in league," exclaimed Lord Elm-
wood.
iC Do you suspect me of partiality to Mr. Rush-
A SIMPLE STORY. 305
brook ?" said Sandford, advancing nearer to the
earl.
Rushbrook had now gained the point of remaining
in the room ; but the hope that privilege inspired
(while he still harhoured all the just apprehensions
for his fate) gave hirth, perhaps, to a more exquisite
sensation of pain, than despair would have done.
He stood silent confounded hoping that he was
forgiven fearing that he was not.
As Sandford approached still nearer to Lord
Elmwood, he continued : " No, my lord; I know you
do not suspect me of partiality to Mr. Rushbrook.
Has any part of my behaviour ever discovered it?"
" You now then only interfere to irritate me."
" If that were the case," returned Sandford,
" there have been occasions when I might have
done it more effectually ; when my own heart-strings
were breaking, because I would not irritate, or add
to what you suffered."
" I am obliged to you, Mr. Sandford," he re-
turned, mildly and thankfully.
" And if, my lord, I have proved any merit in a
late forbearance, reward me for it now : and take
this young man from the depth of sorrow in which
I see he is sunk, and say you pardon him."
Lord Elmwood made no answer and Rushbrook,
drawing strong inferences of hope from his silence,
lifted up his eyes from the ground, and ventured to
look in his face : he found it serene to what it had
been, but. still strongly marked with agitation. He
cast his eyes away again, in shame and confusion.
On which his uncle said to him, " I shall post-
pone the exacting of your obedience to my late
orders, till you think fit once more to provoke them ;
and then, not even Sandford shall dare to plead
your excuse."
Rushbrook bowed.
2 D 3
306 A SIMPLE STORY.
" Go, leave the room, sir."
He instantly obeyed.
Then Sandford, turning to Lord Elrnwood, shook
him by the hand, and cried, " My lord, I thank you
I thank you very kindly, my lord : I shall now
begin to think I have some weight with you."
" You might indeed think so, did you know how
much I have pardoned."
" What was his offence, my lord ?"
" Such as I would not have forgiven you, or any
earthly being besides himself: but while you were
speaking in his behalf, I recollected there was a
gratitude so extraordinary in the hazards he ran
that almost made him pardonable."
" I guess the subject then," cried Sandford ;
" and yet I could not have supposed"
" It is a subject we cannot speak on, Sandford :
therefore let us drop it."
At these words the discourse concluded.
CHAPTER XLVII.
To the relief of Rushbrook, Lord Elrnwood that day
dined from home, and he had not the confusion to
see him again till the evening. Previous to this,
Sandford and he met at dinner ; but as the attend-
ants were present, nothing passed on either side
respecting the incident in the morning. Rushbrook,
from the peril which had so lately threatened him,
was now in his perfectly cool and dispassionate
senses ; and notwithstanding the real tenderness
which he bore to the daughter of his benefactor, he
was not insensible to the comfort of rinding himself
once more in the possession of all those enjoyments
he had forfeited, and for a moment lost.
A SIMPLE STORY. 307
As he reflected on this, to Sandford he felt the
first tie of acknowledgment : but for his compas-
sion, he knew he should have been, at that very time
of their meeting at dinner, away from Elmwood
House for ever, and bearing on his mind a still
more painful recollection the burthen of his kind
patron's continual displeasure. Filled with these
thoughts, all the time of dinner, he could scarce
look at his companion without tears of gratitude ;
and whenever he attempted to speak to him, grati-
tude choaked his utterance.
Sandford, on his part, behaved just the same as
ever ; and to show he did not wish to remind Rush-
brook of what he had done, he was just as uncivil
as ever.
Among other things, he said, " He did not know
Lord Elmwood dined from home ; for if he had, he
should have dined in his own apartment."
Rushbrook was still more obliged to him for all
this ; and the weight of obligations with which he
was opprest made him long for an opportunity to
relieve himself by expressions. As soon, therefore,
as the servants were all withdrawn, he began :
" Mr. Sandford, whatever has been your opinion
of me, I take pride to myself, that in my sentiments
towards you, I have always distinguished you for
that humane, disinterested character, you have this
day proved."
" Humane and disinterested," replied Sandford,
" are flattering epithets indeed, for an old man going
out of the world, and who can have no temptation
to be otherwise."
" Then suffer me to call your actions generous
and compassionate, for they have saved me "
" I know, young man," cried Sandford, inter-
rupting him, " you are glad at what I have done,
and that you find a gratification in telling me you
308 A SIMPLE STORY.
are ; but it is a gratification I will not indulge you
with : therefore, say another sentence on the sub-
ject, and" (rising from his seat) " I'll leave the
room, and never come into your company again,
whatever your uncle may say to it."
Rushbrook saw by the solemnity of his counte-
nance he was serious, and positively assured him he
would never thank him more ; on which Sandford
took his seat again, but he still frowned, and it was
many minutes before he conquered his ill-humour.
As his countenance became less sour, Rushbrook
fell from some general topics he had eagerly started
in order to appease him, and said,
" How hard is it to restrain conversation from the
subject of our thoughts ! And yet amidst our dearest
friends, and among persons who have the same dis-
positions and sentiments as our own, their minds,
too, fixed upon the self-same objects, this constraint
is practised ; and thus society, which was meant
for one of our greatest blessings, becomes insipid,
nay, often more wearisome than solitude."
" I think, young man," replied Sandford, " you
have made pretty free with your speech to-day, and
ought not to complain of the want of toleration on
that score."
" I do complain," replied Rushbrook ; " for if
toleration were more frequent, the favour of obtain-
ing it would be less."
" And your pride, I suppose, is above receiving
a favour."
" Never from those I esteem ; and to convince
you of it, I wish this moment to request a favour
of you."
" I dare say I shall refuse it. However, what
is it?"
" Permit me to speak to you upon the subject of
Lady Matilda ! "
A SIMPLE STORY. 309
Sandford made no answer, consequently did not
forbid him ; and he proceeded :
" For her sake as I suppose Lord Elmwood may
have told you I this morning rashly threw myself
into the predicament from whence you released me:
for her sake I have suffered much for her sake
I have hazarded a great deal, and am still ready to
hazard more."
" But for your own sake, do not," returned Sand-
ford drily.
" You may laugh at these sentiments as romantic,
Mr. Sandford ; but if they are, to me they are never-
theless natural."
" But of what service are they to be either to her
or to yourself?"
" To me they are painful, and to her would be
but impertinent, were she to know them."
" I shan't inform her of them : so do not trouble
yourself to caution me against it."
" I was not going you know I was not but I
was going to say, that from no one so well as from
you, could she be told my sentiments without the
danger of receiving offence."
" And what impression do you wish to give her,
from her becoming acquainted with them V
" The impression, that she has one sincere friend ;
that upon every occurrence in life, there is a heart
so devoted to all she feels that she never can suffer
without the sympathy of another ; or can ever com-
mand him, and all his fortunes to unite for her
welfare, without his ready, his immediate com-
pliance."
" And do you imagine, that any of your profes-
sions, or any of her necessities, would ever prevail
upon her to put you to the trial ?"
" Perhaps not."
310 A SIMPLE STORY.
" What, then, are the motives which induce you
to wish her to he told of this ? "
Rushbrook hesitated.
" Do you think," continued Sandford, "the intel-
ligence will give her any satisfaction ? "
" Perhaps not."
" Will it be of any to yourself?"
" The highest in the world."
" And so all you have been urging upon this oc-
casion, is, at last, only to please yourself."
" You wrong my meaning : it is her merit which
inspires me with the desire of being known to her
it is her sufferings, her innocence, her beauty "
Sandford stared ; Rushbrook proceeded : " It is
her "
" Nay, stop where you are," cried Sandford :
" you are arrived at the zenith of perfection in a wo-
man, and to add one qualification more would be an
anti-climax."
" Oh ! " cried Rushbrook with warmth, " I loved
her before I ever beheld her."
"Loved her!" cried Sandford, with marks of
astonishment : "you are talking of what you did not
intend."
."lam, indeed," returned he in confusion : "I
fell by accident on the word love."
" And by the same accident stumbled on the word
beauty ; and thus by accident am I come to the
truth of all your professions."
Rushbrook knew that he loved ; and though his
affection had sprung from the most laudable motives,
yet was he ashamed of it as of a vice : he rose, he
walked about the room, and he did not look Sand-
ford in the face for a quarter of an hour. Sandford,
satisfied that he had judged rightly, and yet unwill-
ing to be too hard upon a passion which he readily
A SIMPLE STORY. 311
believed must have had many noble virtues for its
foundation, now got up and went away, without
saying a word in censure, though not a word in
approbation.
It was in the month of October, and just dark at
the time Rushbrook was left alone, yet in the agita-
tion of his mind, arising from the subject on which
he had been talking, he found it impossible to re-
main in the house, and therefore walked into the
fields. But there was another instigation, more
powerful than the necessity of walking : it was the
allurement of passing along that path where he had
last seen Lady Matilda, and where, for the only
time, she had condescended to speak to him divested
of haughtiness, and with a gentleness that dwelt
upon his memory beyond all her other endowments.
Here he retraced his own steps repeatedly, his
whole imagination engrossed with her idea, till the
sound of her father's carriage returning from his
visit, roused him from the delusion of his trance, to
the dread of the embarrassment he should endure
on next meeting him. He hoped Sandford might
be present ; and yet he was now almost as much
ashamed of seeing him as his uncle, whom he had
so lately offended.
Loath to leave the spot where he was, as to enter
the house, he remained there, till he considered it
would be ill manners, in his present humiliated si-
tuation, not to show himself at the usual supper hour,
which was now nearly arrived.
As he laid his hand upon the door of the apart-
ment to open it, he was sorry to hear by Lord Elm-
wood's voice he was in the room before him : for
there was something much more conspicuously dis-
tressing, in entering where he already was, than had
his uncle come in after him. He found himself,
however, re-assured by overhearing the earl laugh
312 A SIMPLE STORY.
and speak in a tone expressive of the utmost good
humour to Sandford, who was with him.
Yet again, he felt all the awkwardness of his own
situation; but, making one courageous effort, opened
the door and entered. Lord Elm wood had been
away half the day, had dined abroad, and it was
necessary to take some notice of his return. Rush-
brook, therefore, bowed humbly; and, what was more
to his advantage, he looked humbly. His uncle
made a slight return to the salutation, but continued
the recital he had begun to Sandford ; then sat
down to the supper-table supped and passed
the whole evening without saying a syllable, or even
casting a look, in remembrance of what had passed
in the morning. Or, if there was any token that
shewed he remembered the circumstance at all, it
was the putting his glass to his nephew's, when
Rushbrook called for wine, and drinking at the
time he did.
CHAPTER XLVIII.
The repulse Lord Margrave received did not di-
minish the ardour of his pursuit ; for as he was no
longer afraid of resentment from the earl, whatever
treatment his daughter might receive, he was deter-
mined the anger of Lady Matilda, or of her female
friend, should not impede his pretensions.
Having taken this resolution, he laid the plan of
an open violation of laws both human and Divine ;
and he determined to bear away that prize by force,
which no art was likely to procure. He concerted
with two of his favourite companions; but their
advice was, " One struggle more of fair means."
A SIMPLE STORY. 313
This was totally against bis inclination ; for he had
much ralher have encountered the piercing cries of
a female in the last agonies of distress than the
fatigue of her sentimental harangues, or elegant re-
proofs, such as he had the sense to understand, but
not the capacity to answer.
Stimulated, however, by his friends to one more
trial, in spite of the formal dismission lie had twice
received, he intruded another visit on Lady Matilda
at the farm. Provoked beyond bearing at such
unfeeling assurance, Matilda refused to come into
the room where he was, and Miss Woodley alone
received him, and expressed her surprise at the little
attention he had paid to her explicit desire,
" Madam," replied the nobleman, " to be plain
with you, 1 am in love."
'* I do not the least doubt it, my lord," replied Miss
Woodley : " nor ought you to doubt the truth of
what I advance, when I assure you, that you have
not the smallest reason to hope your l6ve will be
returned; for Lady Matilda is resolved never to
listen to your passion."
' That man," he replied, " is to blame, who can
relinquish his hopes upon the mere resolution of a
lady."
'* And that lady would be wrong," replied Miss
Woodley, " who should entrust her happiness in the
care of a man who can think thus meanly of her
and of her sex."
*' I think highly of them all," he replied ; " and
to convince you in how high an estimation I hold
her in particular, my whole fortune is at her com-
mand."
" Your entire absence from this house, my lord,
she would consider as a much greater mark of your
respect."
A long conversation, as uninteresting as the fore-
VOL. XXVIII. 2 B
314 A SIMPLE STORY.
going, ensued : when the unexpected arrival of Mr.
Sandford put an end to it. He started at the sight
of Lord Margrave ; but the viscount was much more
affected at the sight of him.
" My lord," said Sandford boldly to bin, " have
you received any encouragement from Lady Matilda
to authorise this visit?"
" None, upon my honour, Mr. Sandford : but I
hope you know how to pardon a lover ! "
" A rational one I do ; but you, my lord, are not
of that class while you persecute the pretended ob-
ject of your affection."
" Do you call it persecution that I once offered
her a share of my title and fortune ; and even now,
declare my fortune to be at her disposal ? "
Sandford was uncertain whether he understood
his meaning : but Lord Margrave, provoked at his
ill reception, felt a triumph in removing his doubts,
and proceeded thus :
" For the discarded daughter of Lord Elmwood
cannot expect the same proposals which I made,
while she was acknowledged and under the protec-
tion of her father."
" What proposals then, my lord?" asked Sand-
ford hastily.
" Such," replied he, " as the Duke of Avon made
to her mother."
Miss Woodley quitted the room that instant.
But Sandford, who never felt resentment but against
those in whom he saw some virtue, calmly replied,
" My lord, the Duke of Avon was a gentleman,
a man of elegance and breeding ; and what have you
to offer in recompense for your defects in qualities
like these ?"
" My wealth," replied he, " opposed to her in-
digence."
Sandford smiled, and answered,
A SIMPLE STORY. 815
" Do you suppose that wealth can be esteemed,
which has not been able to make you respectable?
What is it makes wealth valuable ? Is it the plea-
sures of the table ; the pleasure of living in a fine
house, or of wearing fine clothes ? These are
pleasures a lord enjoys but in common with his
valet. It is the pleasure of being conspicuous
which makes riches desirable ; but if we are con-
spicuous only for our vice and folly, had we not
better remain in poverty ? "
" You are beneath my notice."
" I trust I shall continue so ; and that your lord-
ship will never again condescend to come where I
am."
" A man of rank condescends to mix with any
society, when a pretty woman is the object."
" My lord, I have a book here in my pocket,
which I am eager to read : it is an author who
speaks sense and reason. Will you pardon the im-
patience I feel for such company, and permit me to
call your carriage ? "
Saying this, he went hastily and beckoned to the
coachman. The carriage drove up, the door was
opened, and Lord Margrave, ashamed to be exposed
before his attendants, and convinced of the inutility
of remaining any longer where he was, departed.
Sandford was soou joined by the ladies ; and the
conversation falling, of course, upon the nobleman
who had just taken his leave, Sandford unwarily
exclaimed, " I wish Rushbrook had been here."
"Who?" cried Lady Matilda.
" I do believe," said Miss Woodley, " that young
man has some good qualities."
" A great many," returned Sandford, mutter-
ingly.
" Happy young man ! " cried Matilda : " he is
beloved by all those whose affection it would be my
2 E 2
316 A SIMPLE STORY.
choice to possess, beyond any other blessing this
world could bestow."
" And yet I question if Rushbrook be happy,"
said Sand ford.
" He cannot be otherwise," returned Matilda,
" if he is a man of understanding."
" He does not want understanding neither," re-
plied Sandford ; " although he has certainly many
indiscretions."
" But which Lord Elmwood, I suppose," said
Matilda, " looks upon with tenderness."
" Not upon all his faults," answered Sandford ;
" for I have seen him in very dangerous circum-
stances with your father."
"Have you indeed?" cried Matilda: "then I
pity him."
" And I believe," said Miss Woodley, " that from
his heart, he compassionates you. Now, Mr. Sand-
ford," continued she, " though this is the first time
I ever heard you speak in his favour (and I once
thought as indifferently of Mr. Rushbrook as you
can do), yet now I will venture to ask you, whether
you do not think he wishes Lady Matilda much hap-
pier than she is ? "
" I have heard him say so," answered Sandford.
" It is a subject," returned Lady Matilda, " which
I did not imagine you, Mr. Sandford, would have
permitted him to have mentioned lightly in your
presence."
" Lightly ! Do you suppose, my dear, we turned
your situation into ridicule ? "
" No, sir; but there is a sort of humiliation in
the grief to which I am doomed that ought surely
to be treated with the highest degree of delicacy by
my friends."
" I don't know on what point you fix real delicacy ;
but if it consists in sorrow, the young man gives a
A SIMPLE STORY. 317
proof he possesses it, tor he shed tears when I last
heard him mention your name."
" I have more cause to weep at the mention of
his."
" Perhaps so : but let me tell you, Lady Matilda,
that your father might have preferred a more un-
worthy object."
" Still had he been to me," she cried, " an object
of envy. And as I frankly confess my envy of Mr.
Rushbrook, I hope you will pardon my malice, which
is, you know, but a consequent crime."
The subject now turned ^again upon Lord Mar-
grave; and all. of them being firmly persuaded this
last reception would put an end to every further in-
trusion from him, they treated his pretensions, and
himself, with the contempt they inspired, but not
with the caution that was requisite.
CHAPTER XLIX.
The next morning early, Mr. Sandford returned to
Elmwood House, but with his spirits depressed, and
his heart overcharged with sorrow. He had seen
Lady Matilda, the object of his visit ; but he had
beheld her considerably altered in her looks and in
her health. She was become very thin, and instead
of the vivid bloom that used to adorn her cheeks, her
whole complexion was of a deadly pale ; her counte-
nance no longer expressed hope or fear, but a fixed
melancholy : she shed no tears t but was all sadness.
He had beheld this, and he had heard her insulted
by the licentious proposals of a nobleman, from
whom there was no satisfaction to be demanded,
because she had no friend to vindicate her honour.
Rushbrook, who suspected where Sandford was
2 E 3
318 A SIMPLE STORY.
gone, and imagined he would return on the following
day, took his morning's ride, so as to meet him on
the road, at the distance of a few miles from the
castle ; for, since his perilous situation with Lord
Elmwood, he was so fully convinced of the general
philanthropy of Sandford s character, that in spite
of his cliurlish manners, he now addressed him, free
from that reserve to which his rough behaviour had
formerly given birth. And Sandford, on his part,
believing he had formed an illiberal opinion of Lord
Elmwood's heir, though he took no pains to let him
know that his opinion was changed, vet resolved to
make him restitution upon every occasion that
offered.
Their mutual greetings, when they met, were un-
ceremonious, but cordial ; and Rushbrook turned
his horse and rode back with Sandford : yet, in-
timidated by his respect and tenderness for Lady
Matilda, rather than by fear of the rebuffs of his
companion, he had not the courage to name her, till
the ride was just finished, and they came within a
few yards of the house. Incited then by the appre-
hension he might not soon again enjoy so tit an
opportunity, he said,
"Pardon me, Mr. Sandford, if I guess where you
have been, and if my curiosity forces me to inquire
for Miss Woodley's and Lady Matilda's health'!"
He named Miss Woodley first, to prolong the
time before he mentioned Matilda; for though to
name her gave him extreme pleasure, yet it was a
pleasure accompanied by confusion and pain.
" They are both very well," replied Sandford :
" at least they did not complain they were sick."
"They are not in spirits, 1 suppose?" said
Rushbrook.
" No, indeed," replied Sandford, shaking his
head.
A SIMPLE STORY. 319
" No new misfortune lias happened, 1 hope?"
cried Rushbrook : for it was plain to see Sandford's
spirits were unusually cast down.
'" Nothing new," returned he, " except the inso-
lence of a young nobleman."
" What nobleman?" cried Rushbrook.
" A lover of Lady Matilda's," replied Sandford.
Rushbrook was petrified. " Who ? what lover,
Mr. Sandford ? Explain."
They were now arrived at the house ; and Sand-
ford, without making any reply to this question, said
to the servant who took his horse, " She has come
a long way this morning : take care of her."
This interruption was torture to Rushbrook, who
kept close to his side, in order to obtain a further
explanation ; but Sandford, without attending to
him, walked negligently into the hall, and, before
they advanced many steps, they were met by Lord
Elmwood.
All further information was put an end to for the
present.
" How do you do, Sandford?" said Lord Elm-
wood, with extreme kindness, as if he thanked him
for the journey which, it was likely, he suspected
he had been taking.
" I am indifferently well, my lord," replied he,
with a face of deep concern, and a tear in his eye,
partly in gratitude for his patron's civility, and partly
in reproach for his cruelty.
It was not now till the evening, that Rushbrook
had an opportunity of renewing the conversation
which had been so painfully interrupted.
In the evening, no longer able to support the
suspense into which he was thrown, without fear or
shame, he followed Sandford into his chamber at
the time of his retiring, and entreated of him, with
all the anxiety he suffered, to explain his allusion
820 A SIMPLE STORY.
when he talked of a lover, and of insolence to Lady
Matilda.
Sandford, seeing his emotion, was angry with
himself that he had inadvertently mentioned the
circumstance ; and putting on an air of surly im-
portance, desired, if he had any business with him,
that he would call in the morning.
Exasperated at so unexpected a reception, and at
the pain of his disappointment, Rushbrook replied,
" He treated him cruelly; nor would he stir out of
his room, till he had received a satisfactory answer
to his question."
" Then bring your bed," replied Sandford, " for
you must pass your whole night here."
He found it vain to think of obtaining any intelli-
gence by threats : he therefore said in a timid and
persuasive manner,
" Did you, Mr. Sandford, hear Lady Matilda
mention my name ? "
" Yes," replied Sandford, a little better recon
ciled to him.
" Did you tell her what I lately declared to you V
he asked with still more diffidence.
" No," replied Sandford.
" It is very well, sir," returned he, vexed to the
heart, yet again wishing to sooth him.
" You certainly, Mr. Sandford, know what is for
the best : yet I entreat you will give me some fur-
ther account of the nobleman you named."
" I know what is for the best," replied Sandford,
" and I won't."
Rushbrook bowed, and immediately left the room.
He went apparently submissive ; but the moment
he showed this submission, he took the resolution
of paying a visit himself to the farm at which Lady
Matilda resided ; and of learning, either from Miss
Woodley, the people of the house, the neighbours,
A SIMPLE STORY. 321
or perhaps from Lady Matilda's own lips, the secret
which the obstinacy of Sandford had withheld.
He saw all the dangers of this undertaking ; but
none appeared so great as the danger of losing her
he loved, by the influence of a rival : and though
Sandford had named " insolence," he was in doubt
whether what had appeared so to him was so in
reality, or would be so considered by her.
To prevent the cause of his absence being sus-
pected by Lord Elmwood, he immediately called his
groom, ordered his horse, and giving those servants
concerned a strict charge of secrecy, with some
frivolous pretence to apologize for his not being
present at breakfast (resolving to be back by dinner)
he set off that night, and arrived at an inn about a
mile from the farm at break of day.
The joy he felt when he found himself so near to
the beloved object of his journey, made him thank
Sandford in his heart for the unkindness which had
sent him thither. But new difficulties arose, how to
accomplish the end for which he came. He learned
from the people of the inn, that a lord, with a fine
equipage, had visited at the farm ; but who he was,
or for what purpose he went, no one could inform
him.
Dreading to return with his doubts unsatisfied,
and yet afraid of proceeding to extremities that
might be construed into presumption, he walked
disconsolately (almost distractedly) across the fields,
looking repeatedly at his watch, and wishing the
time would stand still till he was ready to go back
with his errand completed.
Every field he passed, brought him nearer to the
house on which his imagination was fixed ; but how,
without forfeiting every appearance of that respect
which he so powerfully felt, could he attempt to
enter it? He saw the indecorum, resolved not to be
322 A SIMPLE STORY.
guilty of it, and yet walked on till he was within but
a small orchard of the door. Could he then retreat ?
He wished he could ; but he found that he had
proceeded too far to be any longer master of him-
self. The time was urgent : he must either behold
her, and venture her displeasure, or by diffidence
during one moment give up all his hopes, perhaps,
for ever.
With that same disregard to consequences which
actuated him when he dared to supplicate Lord
Elmwood in his daughter's behalf, he at length went
eagerly to the door and rapped.
A servant came : he asked to " speak with Miss
Woodley, if she was quite alone."
He was shown into an apartment, and Miss Wood-
ley entered to him.
She started when she beheld who it was ; but as
he did not see a frown upon her face, he caught hold
of her hand, and said persuasively,
" Do not be offended with me. If I mean to offend
you, may I forfeit my life in atonement.''
Poor Miss Woodley, glad in her solitude to see
any one from Elmwood House, forgot his visit was
an offence, till he put her in mind of it : she then
said, with some reserve,
" Tell me the purport of your coming, sir, and
perhaps I may have no reason to complain."
" It was to see Lady Matilda," he replied, " or
to hear of her health. It was to offer her my services
it was, Miss Woodley, to convince her, if possible,
of my esteem."
"Had you no other method, sir?" said Miss
Woodley, with the same reserve.
" None," replied he, " or with joy I should have
embraced it ; and if you can inform me of any other,
tell me I beseech you instantly, and I will imme-
diately be gone, and pursue your directions."
A SIMPLE STORY. 323
Miss Woodley hesitated.
" You know of no other means, Miss Woodley ?"
he cried.
" And yet I cannot commend this," said she.
" Nor do I. Do not imagine because you see me
here, that I approve of my visit ; but/reduced to this
necessity, pity the motives that have urged it."
Miss Woodley did pity them ; but as she would
not own that she did, she could think of nothing else
to say.
At this instant a bell rung from the chamber
above.
" That is Lady Matilda's bell," said Miss Wood-
ley : " she is coming to take a short walk. Do you
wish to see her ?"
Though it was the first wish of his heart, he
paused, and said, " Will you plead my excuse?"
As the flight of stairs was but short, which Ma-
tilda had to come down, she was in the room with
Miss Woodley and Mr. Rushbrook, just as that
sentence ended.
She had stepped beyond the door of the apart-
ment, when, perceiving a visitor, she hastily with-
drew.
Rushbrook, animated, though trembling at her
presence, cried, " Lady Matilda, do not avoid me,
till you know that I deserve such a punishment."
She immediately saw who it was, and returned
back with a proper pride, and yet a proper politeness
in her manner.
" I beg your pardon, sir," said she : " I did not
know you. I was afraid I intruded upon Miss
Woodley and a stranger."
" You do not then consider me as a stranger,
Lady Matilda? And that you do not requires my
warmest acknowledgments."
324 A SIMPLE STORY.
She sat down, as if overcome by ill spirits and ill
health.
Miss Woodley now asked Rushbrook to sit ; for
till now she had not.
" No, madam," replied he, with confusion ; " not
unless Lady Matilda gives me permission."
She smiled, and pointed to a chair ; and all the
kindness which Rushbrook during his whole life had
received from Lord Elmwood never inspired half
the gratitude which this one instance of civility
from his daughter excited.
He sat down with the confession of the obligation
upon every feature of his face.
"1 am not well, Mr. Rushbrook," said Matilda,
languidly ; " and you must excuse any want of eti-
quette at this house."
" While you excuse me, madam, what can I have
to complain of?"
She appeared absent while he was speaking, and
turning to Miss Woodley, said, " Do you think I
had better walk to day V
" No, my dear," answered Miss Woodley : " the
ground is damp, and the air cold."
" You are not well, indeed, Lady Matilda," said
Rushbrook gazing upon her with the most tender
respect.
She shook her head ; and the tears, without any
effort either to impel or to restrain them, ran down
her face.
Rushbrook rose from his seat, and, with an accent
and manner the most expressive, said, " We are
cousins, Lady Matilda : in our infancy we were
brought up together : we were beloved by the same
mother ; fostered by the same father "
" Oh! oh!" cried she, interrupting him with a
tone which indicated the bitterest anguish.
A SIMPLE STORY. 325
" Nay, do not let me add to your uneasiness," he
resumed, " while I am attempting to alleviate it.
Instruct me what 1 can do to show my esteem and
respect, rather than permit me, thus unguided, to
rush upon what you may construe into insult and
arrogance."
Miss Woodley went to Matilda, took her hand,
then wiped the tears from her eyes, while Matilda
reclined against her, entirely regardless of Rush-
brook's presence.
" If I have been in the least instrumental to this
sorrow," said Rushbrook, with a face as much
agitated as his mind.
" No," said Miss Woodley, in a low voice, " you
have not she is often thus."
" Yes," said Matilda, raising her head, " I am
frequently so weak, that I cannot resist the smallest
incitement to grief. But do not make your visit
long, Mr. Rushbrook," she continued; " for I was
just then thinking, that should Lord Elmwood hear
of this attention you have paid me, it might be fatal
to you." Here she wept again, as bitterly as
before.
" There is no probability of his hearing of it,
madam," Rushbrook replied : " or if there was, I
am persuaded that he would not resent it ; for
yesterday, when I am confident he knew that Mr.
Sandford had been to see you, he received him on
his return with unusual marks of kindness."
" Did he I " said she and again she lifted up her
head ; her eyes for a moment beaming with hope
and joy.
" There is something which we cannot yet de-
fine," said Rushbrook, " that Lord Elmwood strug-
gles with ; but when time shall have eradicated"
Before he could proceed further, Matilda waa
vol. xxvm. 2 F
5)26 A SIMPLE STORY.
once more sunk into despondency, and scarcely
attended to what he was saying.
Miss Woodley, observing this, said, " Mr. Rush-
brook, let it be a token we shall be glad to see you
hereafter, that I now use the freedom to beg you
will put an end to your visit."
" You send me away, madam," returned he,
" with the warmest thanks for the reception you
have given me ; and this last assurance of your kind-
ness is beyond any other favour you could have
bestowed. Lady Matilda," added he, " suffer me
to take your hand at parting, and let it be a testi-
mony that you acknowledge me for a relation."
She put out her hand, which he knelt to receive,
but did not raise it to his lips. He held the boon
too sacred ; and looking earnestly upon it, as it lay
pale and wan in his, he breathed one sigh over it,
and withdrew.
CHAPTER L.
Sorrowful and affecting as this interview had
been, Rushbrook, as he rode home, reflected upon
it with the most inordinate delight ; and had he not
seen decline of health in the looks and behaviour of
Lady Matilda, his felicity had been unbounded.
Entranced in the happiness of her society, the
thought of his rival never came once to his mind
while he was with her: a want of recollection, how-
ever, he by no means regretted, as her whole ap-
pearance contradicted every suspicion he could
possibly entertain, that she favoured the addresses
of any man living; and had he remembered, he
would not have dared to name the subject.
A SIMPLE STORY. 327
The time ran so swiftly while he was away, that,
it was beyond the dinner hour at Elmwood House
when he returned. Heated, his dress and his hair
disordered, he entered the dining-room just as the
dessert was put upon the table. He was confounded
at his own appearance, and at the falsehoods he
should be obliged to fabricate in his excuse : there
was yet, that which engaged his attention, beyond
any circumstance relating to himself the features
of Lord Elmwood of which his daughter's, whom
he had just beheld, had the most striking resem-
blance : though hers were softened by sorrow, while
his were made austere by the self-same cause.
* Where have you been?" said his uncle, with a
frown.
" A chase, my lord I beg your pardon but a
pack of dogs I unexpectedly met." For in the
hackneyed art of lying without injury to any one,
Rushbrook, to his shame, was proficient.
His excuses were received, and the subject
ceased.
During his absence that day, Lord Elmwood had
called Sandford apart, and said to him, that as
the malevolence which he once observed between
him and Rushbrook had, he perceived, subsided,
he advised him, if he was a wellwisher to the young
man, to sound his heart, and counsel him not to act
against the will of his nearest relation and friend.
" I myself am too hasty," continued Lord Elm-
wood ; " and, unhappily, too much determined
upon what I have once (though, perhaps, rashly)
said, to speak upon a topic where it is probable 1
shall meet with opposition. You, Sandford, can
reason with moderation. For after all that 1 have
done for my nephew, it would be a pity to forsake
him at last ; and yet, that is but loo likely, if he
should provoke me to it."
2 F 2
328 A SIMPLE STORY.
" Sir," replied Sandford, " I will speak to him."
" Yet," added Lord Elmwood, sternly, " do not
urge what you say for my sake, but for his own : I
can part from him with ease but he may then re-
pent ; and, you know, repentance always comes too
late with me."
" My lord, I will exert all the efforts in my power
for his welfare. But what is the subject on which
he has refused to comply with your desires ? "
" Matrimony have not I told you 1 "
" Not a word."
" I wish him to marry, that I may then conclude
the deeds in respect to my estate ; and the only
child of Sir William Winterton (a rich heiress) was
the wife I meant to propose : but from his indiffer-
ence to all I have said on the occasion, I have not
yet mentioned her name to him you may."
" I will, my lord, and use all my persuasion to
engage his obedience ; and you shall have, at least,
a faithful account of what he says."
Sandford the next morning sought an opportunity
of being alone with Rushbrook. He then plainly
repeated to him what Lord Elmwood had said, and
saw him listen to it all, and heard him answer to it
all, with the most tranquil resolution, " That he
would do any thing to preserve the friendship and
patronage of his uncle but marry."
" What can be your reason?" asked Sandford,
though he guessed.
" A reasoH I cannot give to Lord Elmwood."
" Then do not give it to me, for I have promised
to tell him every thing you shall say to me."
" And every thing I have said ? " asked Rush-
brook, hastily.
" As to what you have said, I don't know whether
it has made impression enough on my memory to
enable me to repeat it."
A SIMPLE STORY. 8*29
"lam glad it has not."
" And my answer to your uncle is to be, simply,
that you will not obey him V
" I should hope, Mr. Sandford, that you would
express it in better terms."
" Tell me the terms, and I will be exact."
Rushbrook struck his forehead, and walked about
the room.
" Am I to give him any reason for your disobey-
ing him ?"
" I tell you again, that I dare not name the
cause."
" Then why do you submit to a power you are
ashamed to own ? "
" I am not ashamed I glory in it. Are you
ashamed of your esteem for Lady Matilda 1 "
" Oh ! if she is the cause of your disobedience,
be assured I shall not mention it; for I am forbid to
name her."
" And, surely, as that is the case, I need not fear
to speak plainly to you. I love Lady Matilda ; 01,
perhaps, unacquainted with love, what I feel may be
only pity : and if so, pity is the most pleasing pas-
sion that ever possessed a human heart, and 1 would
not change it for all her father's estates."
" Pity, then, gives rise to very different sensa-
tions for I pity you, and that sensation 1 would
gladly exchange for approbation."
" If you really feel compassion for me, and I be-
lieve you do, contrive some means by your answers
to Lord Elmwood to pacify him, without involving
me in ruin. Hint at my affections being engaged,
but not to whom : and add, that I have given my
word, if he will allow me a short time, a year or two
only, I will, during that period, try to disengage
them, and use all my power to render myself worthy
of the union for which he designs me."
2 F 3
330 A SIMPLE STORY.
" And this is not only your solemn promise, but
your fixed determination."
" Nay, why will you search my heart to the bot-
tom, when the surface ought to content you?"
" If you cannot resolve on what you have pro-
posed, why do you ask this time of your uncle?
For should he allow it you, your disobedience at the
expiration will be less pardonable than it is now."
" Within a year, Mr. Sandford, who can tell what
strange events may not occur, to change all our
prospects ? Even my passion may decline."
" In that expectation, then, the failure of which
yourself must answer for, I will repeat as much of
this discourse as shall be proper."
Here llushbrook communicated his having been
to see Lady Matilda ; for which Sandford reproved
him, but in less rigorous terms than he generally
used in his reproofs : and Rushbrook, by his entrea-
ties, now gained the intelligence who the nobleman
was who addressed Matilda, and on what views ; but
was restrained to patience, by Sandford's arguments
and threats.
Upon the subject of this marriage, Sandford met
his patron, without having determined exactly what
to say ; but rested on the temper in which he should
find him.
At the commencement of the conversation he told
him, " llushbrook begged for time."
" I have given him time have I not ? " cried Lord
Elmwood : " what can be the meaning of his thus
trifling with me?"
Sandford replied, " My lord, young men are fre-
quently romantic in their notions of love, and think
it impossible to have a sincere affection where theisr
own inclinations do not first point out the choice."
" If he is in love," answered Lord Elmwood,
" let him take the object, and leave my house and
A SIMPLE STORY. 331
me for ever. Nor under this destiny can he have
any claim to pity ; for genuine love will make him
happy in banishment, in poverty, or in sickness : it
makes the poor man happy as the rich, the fool
blest as the wise." The sincerity with which Lord
Elniwood had loved was expressed, as he said this,
more than in words.
" Your lordship is talking," replied Sandford,
" of the passion in its most refined and predominant
sense, while I may possibly be speaking of a mere
phantom that has led this young man astray."
" Whatever it be," returned Lord Elmwood, " let
him and his friends weigh the case well, and act for
the best so shall I."
" His friends, my lord ! What friends, or what
friend has he upon earth but you ? "
" Then why will he not submit to my advice, or
himself give me a proper reason why he cannot 1 "
" Because there may be friendship without fami-
liarity ; and so it is between him and you."
'* That cannot be ; for I have condescended to
talk to him in the most familiar terms."
" To condescend, my lord, is not to be familiar."
" Then come, sir, let us be on an equal footing
through you. And now speak out his thoughts
freely, and hear mine in return."
" Why then, he begs a respite for a year or two."
" On what pretence V
" To me, it was preference of a single life ; but I
suspect it is, what he imagines to be, love, and for
some object whom he thinks your lordship would
disapprove."
" He has not, then, actually confessed this to
you?"
" If he has, it was drawn from him by such means,
that I am not warranted to say it in direct words."
" 1 have entered into no contract, no agreement
332 A SIMPLE STORY.
on his account with the friends of the lady I have
pointed out," said Lord Elmwood : " nothing beyond
implications have passed betwixt her family and
myself at present; and if the person on whom he
has fixed his affections should not be in a situ-
ation absolutely contrary to my wishes, I may,
perhaps, confirm his choice."
That moment Sandford's courage prompted him
to name Lady Matilda, but his discretion opposed.
However, in the various changes of his counte-
nance from the conflict, it was plain to discern that
he wished to say more than he dared.
On which Lord Elmwood cried,
" Speak on, Sandford ; what are you afraid of? "
" Of you, my lord."
He started.
Sandford went on : "I know no tie, no bond,
no innocence, that is a protection when you feel
resentment."
" You are right," he replied, significantly.
" Then how, my lord, can you encourage me to
speak on, when that which I perhaps should say
might offend you to hear ? "
" To what, and whither are you changing our
subject?" cried Lord Elmwood. " But, sir, if you
know my resentful and relentless temper, you surely
know how to shun it."
" Not, and speak plainly."
" Then dissemble."
" No, I'll not do that ; but I'll be silent."
" A new parade of submission. You are more
tormenting to me than any one I have about me;
constantly on the verge of disobeying my orders,
that you may recede, and gain my good will by your
forbearance. But know, Mr. Sandford, that I will
not suffer this much longer. If you choose in every
conversation we have together (though the most
A SIMPLE STORY. 333
remote from such a topic) to think of my daughter,
you must either banish your thoughts, or conceal
them ; nor by one sign, one item, remind me of
her."
" Your daughter did you call her? Can you call
yourself her father?'
" I do, sir : but I was likewise the husband of her
mother. And, as that husband, I solemnly swear "
He was proceeding with violence.
" Oh ! my lord," cried Sandford, interrupting
him, with his hands clasped in the most fervent sup-
plication " Oh ! do not let me draw upon her one
oath more of your eternal displeasure. I'll kneel to
beg that you will drop the subject."
The inclination he made, with his knees bent to-
wards the ground, stopped Lord Elmwood instantly.
But though it broke in upon his words, it did not
alter one angry look : his eyes darted, and his lips
trembled with, indignation.
Sandford, in order to appease him, bowed and
offered to withdraw, hoping to be recalled. He
wished in vain : Lord Elmwood's eyes followed him
to the door, expressive of the joy he should receive
from his absence.
CHAPTER LI.
The companions and counsellors of Lord Margrave,
who had so prudently advised gentle methods in the
pursuit of his passion, while there was left any hope
of their success ; now, convinced there was none,
as strenuously recommended open violence ; and
sheltered under the consideration, that their depre-
dations were to be practised upon a defenceless
woman, who had not one protector, except an old
334 A SIMPLE STORY.
priest, the subject of their ridieule ; assured like
wise from the influence of Lord Margrave's wealth,
that all inferior consequences could be overborne,
they saw no room for fears on any side ; and what
they wished to execute, they with care and skill
premeditated.
When their scheme was mature for performance,
three of his chosen companions, and three servants,
trained in all the villanous exploits of their masters,
set off for the habitation of poor Matilda, and arrived
there about the twilight of the evening.
Near four hours after that time (just as the family
were going to bed), they came up to the doors of the
house, and, rapping violently, gave the alarm of fire,
conjuring all the inhabitants to make their way out
immediately, as they would save their lives.
The family consisted of few persons, all of whom
ran instantly to the doors and opened them ; on
which two men rushed in, and with the plea of
saving Lady Matilda from the pretended flames,
caught her in their arms, and carried her oft";
while all the deceived people of the house, running
eagerly to save themselves, paid no regard to her ;
till looking for the cause for which they had been
terrified, they perceived the stratagem, and the fatal
consequences.
Amidst the complaints, the sorrow, and the affright
of the people of the farm, Miss Woodley's sensa-
tions wanted a name. Terror and anguish give but a
faint description of what she suffered : something
like the approach of death stole over her senses, and
she sat like one petrified with horror. She had no
doubt who was the perpetrator of this wickedness ;
but how was she to follow ; how effect a rescue ?
The circumstances of this event, as soon as the
people had time to call up their recollection, were
sent to a neighbouring magistrate ; but little could
A SIMPLH STORY. 335
be hoped from that. Who was to swear to the
robber? Who undertake to rind him out? Miss
Woodley thought of Rushbrook, of Sandford, of
Lord Elrawood ; but what could she hope from the
want of power in the two former ? what from the
latter, for the want of will? Now stupified, and
now distracted, she walked about the house inces-
santly, begging for instructions how to act or how
to forget her misery.
A tenant of Lord Elmwood's, who occupied a
little farm near to that where Lady Matilda lived,
and who was well acquainted with the whole history
of her and her mother's misfortunes, was returning
from a neighbouring fair just as this inhuman plan
was put in execution. He heard the cries of a
woman in distress, and followed the sound, till he
arrived at a chaise in waiting, and saw Matilda
placed in it by the side of two men, who presented
pistols to him as he offered to approach and ex-
postulate.
The farmer, though uncertain who this female
was, yet went to the house she had been taken from
(as the nearest) with the tale of what he had seen j
and there, being informed it was Lady Matilda
whom he had beheld, this intelligence, joined to the
powerful effect her screams had on him, made him
resolve to take horse immediately, and, with some
friends, follow the carriage till they should trace the
place to which she was conveyed.
The anxiety, the firmness discovered in determin-
ing upon this undertaking, somewhat alleviated the
agony Miss Woodley endured ; and she began to
hope timely assistance might yet be given to her
beloved charge.
The man set out, meaning at all events to attempt
her release ; but before he had proceeded far, the few
friends that accompanied him began to reflect on
330 A SIMPLE STORY.
the improbability of their success, against a noble-
man, surrounded by servants, with other attendants
likewise, and, perhaps, even countenanced by the
father of the lady, whom they presumed to take
from him : or if not, while Lord Elmwood beheld
the offence with indifference, that indifference gave
it a sanction they might in vain oppose. These
cool reflections tending to their safety, had their
weight with the companions of the farmer: they all
rode back, rejoicing at their second thoughts, and
left him to pursue his journey and prove his valour
by himself.
CHAPTER LII.
It was not with Sandford as it had lately been with
Rushbrook under the displeasure of Lord Elmwood :
to the latter he behaved, as soon as their dissen-
sion was past, as if it had never happened. But to
Sandford it was otherwise: the resentment which he
had repressed at the time of the offence, lurked in
his heart, and dwelt upon his mind for several days;
during which he carefully avoided exchanging a
word with him, and gave other demonstrations of
being still in enmity.
Sandford, though experienced in the cruelty and
ingratitude of the world, yet could not without dif-
ficulty brook this severity, this contumely, from a
man, for whose welfare, ever since his infancy, he
had laboured; and whose happiness was more dear
to him, in spite of all his faults, than that of any
other person. Even Lady Matilda was not so dear
to Sandford as her father ; and he loved her more
that she was Lord Elmwood's child, than for any
other cause.
A SIMPLE STORY. 337
Sometimes the old priest, incensed beyond bear-
ing, was on the point of saying to his patron, "How,
in my age, dare you thus treat the man whom in his
youth you respected and revered ? "
Sometimes, instead of anger, he felt the tear, he
was ashamed to own, steal to his eye, and even fall
down his cheek. Sometimes he left the room half
determined to leave the house : but these were all
half determinations ; for he knew him with whom he
had to deal too well, not to know that he might be
provoked into yet greater anger ; and that should he
once rashly quit his house, the doors, most proba-
bly, would be shut against him for ever after.
In this humiliating state (lor even the domestics
could not but observe their lord's displeasure) Sand-
ford passed three days, and was beginning the
fourth, when sitting with Lord Elmwood and
Rushbrook just after breakfast, a servant entered,
saying, as he opened the door, to somebody who
followed, " You must wait till you have my lord's
permission."
This attracted their eyes to the door, and a man
meanly dressed walked in, following close to the
servant.
The latter turned, and seemed again to desire the
person to retire, but in vain : he rushed forward re-
gardless ofhis opposer, and, in great agitation, said,
" My lord, if you please, 1 have business with
you, provided you will choose to be alone."
Lord Elmwood, struck with the intruder's earnest-
ness, bade the servant leave the room ; and then
said to the stranger,
" You may speak before these gentlemen."
The man instantly turned pale, and trembled
then, to prolong the time before he spoke, went to
the door to see if it was shut returned yet, still
trembling, seemed unwilling to say his errand.
VOL. XX VI II. 2 G
338 A SIMPLE STORY.
" What have you done," cried Lord Elmwood,
" that you are in this terror ? What have you done,
man?"
" Nothing, my lord," replied he; " but I am afraid
I am going to offend you."
"Well, no matter," he answered carelessly ; " only
go on, and let me know your business."
The man's distress increased ; and he replied,
in a voice of grief and affright, " Your child, my
lord !"
Rushbrook and Sandford started ; and, looking
at Lord Elmwood, saw him turn white as death. In
a tremulous voice he instantly cried,
" What of her?" and rose from his seat.
Encouraged by the question, and the agitation
of him who asked it, the poor man gave way
to his feelings, and answered with every sign of
sorrow,
" I saw her, my lord, taken away by force : two
ruffians seized and carried her away, while she
screamed in vain to me for help, and looked like
one in distraction."
" Man, what do you mean?" cried the earl.
" Lord Margrave," replied the stranger, " we
have no doubt, has formed this plot : he has for
some time past beset the house where she lived ;
and, when his visits were refused, he threatened this.
Besides, one of his servants attended the carriage :
I saw, and knew him."
Lord Elmwood listened to the last part of this
account with seeming composure : then turning
hastily to Rushbrook, he said,
" Where are my pistols, Harry?"
Sandford forgot, at this instant, all the anger that
had passed between him and the earl : he rushed
towards him, and grasping his hand, cried, " Will
you then prove yourself a father ? "
A SIMPLE STORY. 339
Lord Elmwood only answered, " Yes," and left
the room.
Rushbrook followed, and begged, with all the
earnestness he felt, to be permitted to accompany
his uncle.
While Sandford shook hands with the farmer a
thousand times ; and he, in his turn, rejoiced, as
if he had already seen Lady Matilda restored to
liberty.
Rushbrook in vain entreated Lord Elmwood : he
laid his commands upon him not to go a step from
the castle ; while the agitation of his own mind was
too great to observe the rigour of this sentence on
his nephew.
During hasty preparations for the earl's depar-
ture, Sandford received from Miss Woodley the sad
intelligence of what had occurred ; but he returned
an answer to recompense her for all she had suffered
on the sad occasion.
Within a short hour Lord Elmwood set off, ac-
companied by his guide, the farmer, and other at-
tendants furnished with every requisite to ascertain
the success of their enterprize : while poor Matilda
little thought of a deliverer nigh ; much less, that
her deliverer should prove her father.
CHAPTER L1II.
Lord Margrave, black as this incident of his life
must make him appear to the reader, still nursed in
his conscience a reserve of specious virtue, to keep
him in peace with himself. It was his design to
plead, to argue, to implore, nay even to threaten,
long before he put his threats in force ; and with
this and the following reflection, he reconciled as
2 G 2
340 A SIMPLE STORY.
most bad men can what he had done, not only to
the laws of humanity, but to the laws of honour.
" 1 have stolen a woman certainly," said he to
himself, " but I will make her happier than she was
in that humble state from which 1 have taken her.
1 will even," said he, "now that she is in my
power, win her affections ; and when, in fondness,
hereafter she hangs upon me, how will she thank me
for this little trial, through which I shall have con-
ducted her to happiness!"
Thus did he hush his remorse, while he waited
impatiently at home, in expectation of his prize.
Half expiring with her sufferings, of body as well
as of mind, about twelve o'clock the next night,
after she was borne away, Matilda arrived ; and felt
her spirits revive by the superior sufferings that
awaited her ; for her increasing terrors roused her
from the death-like weakness brought on by extreme
fatigue.
Lord Margrave's house, to which he had gone
previous to this occasion, was situated in the lonely
part of a well-known forest, not more than twenty
miles distant from London. This was an estate he
rarely visited ; and as he had but few servants
here, it was a spot which he supposed would be
less the object of suspicion in the present case, than
any other of his seats. To this, then, Lady Matilda
was conveyed a superb apartment allotted her
and one of his confidential females placed to attend
upon her person, with all respect and assurances
of safety.
Matilda looked in this woman's face, and seeing
she bore the features of her sex, while her own
knowledge reached none of those worthless cha-
racters of which this creature was a specimen, she
imagined that none of those could look as she did,
and therefore found consolation in her seeming ten-
A SIMPLE STORY. 341
derness. She was even prevailed upon (by her
promises to sit by her side and watch) to throw her-
self on a bed, and suffer sleep for a few minutes
for sleep to her was suffering ; her fears giving birth
to dreams terrifying as her waking thoughts.
More wearied than refreshed with her sleep, she
rose at break of day ; and, refusing to admit of the
change of an article in her dress, she persisted to
wear the torn disordered habiliment in which she
had been dragged away : nor would she taste a mor-
sel of all the delicacies that were prepared for her.
Her attendant for some time observed the most
reverential awe ; but finding this humility had not
the effect of gaining compliance with her advice,
she varied her manners, and began by less submissive
means to attempt an influence. She said her orders
were to be obedient, while she herself was obeyed
at least in circumstances so material as the lady's
health, of which she had the charge as a physician,
and expected equal compliance from her patient.
Food and fresh apparel she prescribed as the only
means to prevent death ; and even threatened her
invalid with something worse, a visit from Lord
Margrave, if she continued obstinate.
Now loathing her for the deception she had prac-
tised, more than had she received her thus at first,
Matilda hid her eyes from the sight of her ; and,
when she was obliged to look, she shuddered.
This female at length thought it her duty to wait
upon her worthy employer, and inform him the
young lady in her trust would certainly die, unless
there were means employed to oblige her to take
some nourishment.
Lord Margrave, glad of an opportunity that might
apologize for his intrusion upon Lady Matilda, went
with eagerness to her apartment ; and, throwinghim-
2 G 3
34*2 A SIMPLE STORY.
self at her feet conjured her, if she would save his
life, as well as her own, to submit to be consoled.
The extreme aversion, the horror which his pre-
sence inspired, caused Matilda for a moment to
forget all her want of power, her want of health, her
weakness ; and rising from the place where she sat,
she cried, with her voice elevated,
" Leave me, my lord, or I'll die in spite of all
your care. I'll instantly expire with grief, if you do
not leave me."
Accustomed to the tears and reproaches of the
sex, though not of those like her, he treated with
indifference these menaces of anger, and, seizing her
hand, carried it to his lips.
Enraged, and overwhelmed with terror at the
affront, she exclaimed (forgetting every other friend
she had), " Oh ! my dear Miss Woodley, why are
you not here to protect me V
" Nay," returned Lord Margrave, stifling a pro-
pensity to laugh, " I should think the old priest
would be as good a champion as the lady."
The remembrance of Sandford, with all his kind-
ness, now rushed so forcibly on Matilda's mind, that
she shed tears, from the certainty how much he
felt, and would continue to feel, for her situation.
Once she thought on Rushbrook, and thought even
he would be sorry for her. Of her father she did
not think she dared not : one single moment, in-
deed, that thought had intruded; but she hurried it
away it was too bitter.
It was now again quite night, and near to that
hour when she came first to the house. Lord Mar-
grave, though at some distance from her, remained
still in her apartment, while her female companion
had stolen away. His insensibility to her lamenta-
tions the agitated looks he sometimes cast upon
A SIMPLE STORY. 343
her her weak and defenceless state all conspired
to fill her mind with increasing horror.
He saw her apprehensions in her distracted face,
dishevelled hair, and the whole of her forlorn ap-
pearance ; yet, in spite of his former resolutions, he
did not resist the wish of fulfilling all her dreadful
expectations.
He once again approached her, and again was
going to seize her hand ; when the report of a
pistol, and a confused noise of persons assembling
towards the door of the apartment, caused him to
desist.
He started but looked more surprised than
alarmed her alarm was augmented ; for she sup-
posed this tumult was some experiment to intimi-
date her into submission. She wrung her hands,
and lifted up her eyes to Heaven, in the last agony
of despair, when one of Lord Margrave's servants
entered hastily, and announced
" Lord Elmwood ! "
That moment her father entered and, with all
the unrestrained fondness of a parent, folded her in
his arms.
Her extreme, her excess of joy on such a meet-
ing, and from such anguish rescued, was, in part,
repressed by his awful presence. The apprehen-
sions to which she had been accustomed kept her
timid and doubtful : she feared to speak, or clasp
him in return for his embrace, but, falling on her
knees, clung round his legs, and bathed his feet with
her tears. These were the happiest moments that
she had ever known ; perhaps, the happiest he had
ever known.
Lord Margrave, on whom Lord Elmwood had not
even cast a look, now left the room ; but, as he quit-
ted it, called out,
344 A SIMPLE STORY.
" My Lord Elmwood, if you have any demands
The earl interrupted him : " Would you make
me an executioner ? The law shall be your only an-
tagonist."
Matilda, quite exhausted, yet upheld by the sud-
den transport she had felt, was led by her father out
of this wretched dwelling more despicable than the
hovel of the veriest beggar.
CHAPTER LIV.
Overcome with the want of rest for two nights,
through her distracting fears, and all those fears now
hushed ; Matilda, soon after she was placed in the
carriage with Lord Elmwood, dropped fast asleep ;
and thus, insensibly surprised, she leaned her
head against her father in the sweetest slumber that
imagination can conceive.
When she awoke, instead of the usual melancholy
scene before her view, she beheld her father ; and
heard the voice of the once dreaded Lord Elmwood
tenderly saying,
" We will go no further to-night : the fatigue is
to^ much for her. Order beds here directly, and
some proper person to sit up and attend her."
She could only turn to him with a look of love
and duty : her lips could not utter a sentence.
In the morning she found her father by the side
of her bed. He inquired " if she was in health suf-
ficient to pursue her journey, or if she would remain
at the inn where she was."
*' I am able to go with you," she answered in-
stantly.
A SIMPLE STORY. 345
" Nay," replied he, " perhaps you ought to stay
here till you are perfectly recovered V
" I am recovered," said she, " and ready to go
with you," fearful that he meant to separate from
her, as he had ever done.
He perceived her fears, and replied, " Nay, if
you stay, I shall do the same and, when I go, shall
take you with me to my house."
" To Elmwood House?" she asked eagerly.
" No, to my house in town, where I intend to be
all the winter, and where you shall still continue
under my care."
She turned her face on the pillow to conceal tears
of joy, but her sobs revealed them.
" Come," said he, " this kiss is a token you have
nothing to dread. I shall send for Miss Woodley
too immediately," continued he.
" Oh ! I shall be overjoyed to see her, ray lord
and to see Mr. Sandford and even Mr. Rush-
brook."
" Do you know him ? " said Lord Elmwood.
" I have seen him two or three times."
The earl, hoping the air might be a means of re-
establishing her health and spirits, now left the
room and ordered his carriage to be prepared :
while she arose, attended by one of his female ser-
vants, for whom he had sent to town, to bring such
changes of apparel as were requisite.
When Matilda was ready to join her father in the
next room, she felt a tremor seize her, that made it
almost impossible to appear before him. No other
circumstance now impending to agitate her heart,
she felt more forcibly its embarrassment at meeting,
on terms of easy intercourse, him of whom she had
never been used to think but with that distant re-
verence and fear which his severity had excited ;
and she knew not how she should dare to speak to
346 A SIMPLE STORY.
or look on him with that freedom which her affec-
tion warranted.
After many efforts to conquer these nice and re-
fined sensations, but to no purpose, she at last went
to his apartment. He was reading ; but, as she
entered, he put out his hand and drew her to him.
Her tears wholly overcame her. He could hate
intermingled his: but assuming a grave counte-
nance, he entreated her to desist from exhausting
her spirits; and, after a few powerful struggles, she
obeyed.
Before the morning was over, she experienced
the extreme joy of sitting by her father's side as
they drove to town, and of receiving, during his
conversation, a thousand intimations of his love, and
tokens of her lasting happiness.
It was now the middle of November ; and yet, as
Matilda passed along, never to her did the sun shine
so bright as upon this morning never did her ima-
gination comprehend that the human heart could
feel happiness true and genuine as hers !
On arriving at the house, there was no abatement
of her felicity : all was respect and duty on the
part of the domestics- all paternal care on the part
of Lord Elmwood ; and she would have been at
that summit of her wishes which annihilates hope,
but that the prospect of seeing Miss Woodley and
Mr. Sandford still kept this passion in existence.
CHAPTER LV.
Rushbrook was detained at Elmwood House during
all this time, more by the persuasions, nay prayers,
of Sandford than the commands of Lord Elmwood.
He had, but for Sandford, followed his uncle,
A SIMPLE STORY. 347
and exposed himself to his anger, sooner than have
endured the most piercing inquietude which he was
doomed to suffer till the news arrived of Lady Ma-
tilda's safety. He indeed had little else to fear from
the known firm, courageous character of her father,
and the expedition with which he undertook his
journey : but lovers' fears are like those of women,
obstinate ; and no argument could persuade either
him or Miss Woodley (who had now ventured to
come to Elmwood House), but that Matilda's peace
of mind might be for ever destroyed before she was
rescued from her danger.
The summons from Lord Elmwood for their com-
ing to town, was received by each of this party with
delight ; but the impatience to obey it was in Rush-
brook so violent, it was painful to himself, and ex-
tremely troublesome to Sandford ; who wished, from
his regard to Lady Matilda, rather to delay than
hurry their journey.
" You are to blame," said he to him and Miss
Woodley, " to wish, by your arrival, to divide with
Lord Elmwood that tender bond which ties the
good, who confer obligations, to the object of their
benevolence. At present there is no one with him
to share in the care and protection of his daughter,
and he is under the necessity of discharging that
duty himself: this habit may become so powerful,
that he cannot throw it off, even if his former reso-
lutions should urge him to it. While we remain
here, therefore, Lady Matilda is safe with her fa-
ther ; but it would not surprise me, if on our arrival
(especially if we are precipitate) he should place
her again with Miss Woodley at a distance."
To this forcible conjecture they submitted for a
few days, and then most gladly set out for town.
On their arrival, they were met, even at the
street-door, by Lady Matilda; and, with an expres-
348 A SIMPLE STORY.
sion of joy they did not suppose her features could
have woru, she embraced Miss Woodley ! hung
upon Sandford ! and to Mr. Rushbrook, who from
his conscious love only bowed at an humble dis-
tance, she held out her hand with every look and
gesture of the tenderest esteem.
When Lord Elmwood joined them, he welcomed
them all sincerely ; but Sandford more than the rest,
with whom he had not spoken for many days before
he left the country, for his allusion to the wretched
situation of his daughter and Sandford (with his
fellow-travellers) now saw him treat that daughter
with an easy, a natural fondness, as if she had lived
with him from her infancy. He appeared, however,
at times, under the apprehension that the propen-
sity of man to jealousy might give Rushbrook a
pang at this dangerous rival in his love and fortune.
For though Lord Elmwood remembered well the
hazard he had once ventured to befriend Matilda,
yet the present unlimited reconciliation was some-
thing so unlooked for, it might be a trial too much
for his generosity. Slight as was this suspicion, it
did Rushbrook injustice. He loved Lady Matilda
too sincerely, he loved her father's happiness and
her mother's memory too faithfully, not to be re-
joiced at all he witnessed : nor could the secret hope
that whispered him, " their blessings might one
day be mutual," increase the pleasure he found in
beholding Matilda happy.
Unexpected affairs, in which Lord Elmwood had
been for some time engaged, had diverted his atten-
tion for a while from the marriage of his nephew :
nor did he at this time find his disposition sufficient-
ly severe, to exact from the young man a compli-
ance with his wishes, at so cruel an alternative as
that of being for ever discarded. He felt his mind,
by the late incident, too much softened for such
A SIMPLE STORY. 340
harshness : he yet wished for the alliance he had
proposed ; for he was more consistent in his cha-
racter than to suffer the tenderness his daughter's
peril had awakened, to derange those plans which
he had long projected. Never, even now, for a mo-
ment did he indulge for perhaps it would have
been an indulgence the design of replacing her
exactly in the rights of her birth, to the disappoint-
ment of all his nephew's expectations.
Yet, milder at this crisis in his temper than he had
been for years before, and knowing he could be no
longer irritated upon the subject of neglect to his
child, he at length once more resolved to trust him-
self in a conference with Rushbrook on the plan of
his marriage ; meaning at the same time to mention
Matilda as an opponent from whom he had nothing
to fear. But, for some time before Rushbrook was
called to this private audience, he had, by his un-
wearied attention, endeavoured to impress upon
Matilda's mind the softest sentiments in his favour.
He succeeded but not so fully as he wished.
She loved him as her friend, her cousin, her foster-
brother, but not as a lover. The idea of love never
once came to her thoughts ; and she would sport
with Rushbrook like the most harmless infant, while
he, all impassioned, could with difficulty resist dis-
closing to her what she made him suffer.
At the meeting between him and Lord Elmwood,
to which he was called for his final answer on that
subject, which had once nearly proved so fatal to
him ; after a thousand fears, much confusion and
embarrassment, he at length frankly confessed his
" heart was engaged, and had been so long before
his uncle offered to direct his choice.''
Lord Elmwood, as he had done formerly, desired
to know, " on whom he had placed his affections."
" I dare not tell you, my lord," returned he ;
VOL. XXVITI. 2 H
350 A SIMPLE STORY.
" but Mr. Sandford can witness their sincerity, and
how lqjig they have been fixed."
** Fixed !" cried the earl.
" Immoveably fixed, my lord; and yet the object
is as unconscious of my love to this moment, as you
yourself have been ; and I swear ever shall be so,
without your permission."
f Name the object," said Lord Elmwood anxi-
ously.
" My lord, I dare not. The last time I named
her to you, you threatened to abandon me for my
arrogance."
Lord Elmwood started " My daughter !
Would you marry her'"
" But with your approbation, my lord ; and
that "
Before he could proceed a word further, his uncle
left the room hastily ; and left Rushbrook all terror
for his approaching fate.
Lord Elmwood went immediately into the apart-
ment where Sandford, Miss Woodley, and Matilda,
were sitting, and cried with an angry voice, and
with his countenance disordered,
" Rushbrook has offended me beyond forgiveness.
Go, Sandford, to the library, where he is, and tell
him this instant to quit my house, and never dare to
return."
Miss Woodley lifted up her hands and sighed.
Sandford rose slowly from his seat to execute the
office;
While Lady Matilda, who was arranging her
music books upon the instrument, stopped from her
employment suddenly, and held her handkerchief to
her eyes.
A general silence ensued, till Lord Elmwood, re-
suming his angry tone, cried, " Did vou hear me,
Mr. Sandford ?"
A SIMPLE STORY. 361
Sandford now, without a word in reply, made for
the door ; but there Matilda impeded him, and,
throwing her arms about his neck, cried,
" Dear Mr. Sandford, do not."
" How !" exclaimed her father.
She saw the impending frown, and, rushing to-
wards him, took his hand fearfully, and knelt at his
feet. " Mr. Rushbrook is my relation," she cried in
a pathetic voice, " my companion, my friend : be-
fore you loved me he was anxious for my happiness,
and often visited me to lament with and console me.
I cannot see him turned out of your house without
feeling for him what he once felt for me."
Lord Elmwood turned aside to conceal his sensa-
tions : then raising her from the floor, he said, " Do
you know what he has asked of me 1 "
" No," answered she in the utmost ignorance,
and with the utmost innocence painted on her face ;
" but whatever it is, my lord, though you do not
grant it, yet pardon him for asking."
" Perhaps you would grant him what he has re-
quested ?" said her father.
" Most willingly was it in my gift."
" It is," replied he. " Go to him in the library,
and hear what he has to say ; for on your will his
fate shall depend.''
Like lightning she flew out of the room ; while
even the grave Sandford smiled at the idea of their
meeting.
Rushbrook, with his fears all verirkfcl by the man-
ner in which his uncle had left him, sat with his
head reclined against a book-case, and every limb
extended with the despair that had seized him.
Matilda nimbly opened the door and cried, " Mr.
Rushbrook, I am come to comfort you."
" That you have always done," said he, rising in
352 A SIMPLE STORY.
rapture to receive her, even in the midst of all his
sadness.
" What is it you want ?" said she. " What have
you asked of my father, that he has denied you ? "
" I have asked for that," replied he, " which is
dearer to me than my life."
" Be satisfied then," returned she ; " for you shall
have it."
" Dear Matilda ! it is not in your power to be-
stow."
" But he has told me it shall be in my power ;
and has desired me to give or to refuse it you, at
my own pleasure."
" O Heavens ! " cried Rushbrook in transport,
" has he ? "
" He has indeed before Mr. Sandford and Miss
Woodley. Now tell me what you petitioned for?"
" I asked him," cried Rushbrook, trembling,
" for a wife."
Her hand, which had just then taken hold of his,
in the warmth of her wish to serve him, now dropped
down as with the stroke of death her face lost its
colour and she leaned against the desk by which
they were standing without uttering a word.
" What means this change?" said he. " Do you
not wish me happy?"
" Yes," she exclaimed "Heaven is my witness ;
but it gives me concern to think we must part."
" Then let us be joined," cried he, falling at her
feet, " till death alone can part us."
All the sensibility the reserve the pride, with
which she was so amply possessed, returned to her
that moment. She started back, and cried, " Could
Lord Elrawood know for what he sent me ?"
" He did," replied Rushbrook" I boldly told
him of my presumptuous love ; and he has given to
A SIMPLE STORY. 353
you alone, the power over my happiness or misery.
Oh ! do not doom me to the latter."
Whether the heart of Matilda, such as it has been
described, could sentence him to misery, the reader
is left to surmise ; and if he supposes that it could
not , he has every reason to suppose that their wed-
ded life was a life of happiness.
He has beheld the pernicious effects of an impro-
per education in the destiny which attended the un-
thinking Miss Milner. On the opposite side, what
may not be hoped from that school of prudence,
though of adversity, in which Matilda was bred I
And Mr. Milner, Matilda's grandfather, had bet-
ter have given bis fortune to a distant branch of his
family, as Matilda's father once meant to do, so
that he had given to his daughter
A PROPER EDUCATION.
THE END OF VOL. XXVIII.
Ellcrton and Hemlerton, Prime.
Johnson's Court, London.
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