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 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 understanding, 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 pa.s.sion, which had unhappily taken possession of her whole soul, would not have been inspired, had there not subsisted an early difference, 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, 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 convinced 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 susceptible 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 at her with friendship, and asked, "What she could do to render her less unhappy?"

"Make me forget," replied Miss Milner, "every moment of my life since I first saw you--that moment 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 a.s.surance of her guardian, if he and Lord Frederick should meet, the duel might still take place; she therefore rang the bell and enquired if Mr. Dorriforth 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 dispatched 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 appointment, for that Lord Elmwood had forgot to enquire.

The excessive alarm which Miss Milner discovered upon this occasion, was imputed by the servants, and by others who were witnesses of it, to her affection for Lord Frederick; while none but Miss Woodley 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 s.e.x in the instance just before them, had, notwithstanding the interest of the discourse, a longing desire 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 was ashamed; 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 embarra.s.sment, she now cast down her eyes in shame.

Soon after the dinner was removed, Lord Elmwood entered; and that gallant young n.o.bleman declared--"Mr. Sandford had used him ill, in not permitting him to accompany his relation; for he feared that Mr.

Dorriforth would now throw himself 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 a command over Miss Milner, restrained her from expressing the affright she suffered from this intimation. Miss Fenton replied, "As to that, my Lord, I see no reason why Mr. Dorriforth and Lord Frederick should not now be friends."

"Certainly," said Mrs. Horton; "for as soon as my Lord Frederick is made acquainted with Miss Milner's confession, all differences must be reconciled."

"What confession?" asked Lord Elmwood.

Miss Milner, to avoid hearing a repet.i.tion 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 a.s.sistance 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 discovery, 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 not their 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 by his ward and he came to her with intelligence. He therefore stood while he repeated all that had happened in his interview with Lord Frederick.

But with her gladness to see her guardian safe, she had forgot to enquire of the safety of his antagonist; of the man whom she had pretended to love so pa.s.sionately--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 pa.s.sed."

This brought her to the recollection of her conduct, and now with looks ill constrained, she attempted the expression of an alarm she did not feel.

"Nay, I a.s.sure you Lord Frederick is safe," he resumed, "and the disgrace of his blow washed entirely 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 sunk 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 a.s.sistance from her friend, was going himself to give it; but on this, Miss Woodley interfered, and having taken her head upon her arm, a.s.sured him, "It was a weakness to which Miss Milner was accustomed: that she would ring for her maid, who knew how to relieve her instantly with a few drops." Satisfied with this, Dorriforth 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 partic.i.p.ate 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 perpetrated. Adultery, reason would perhaps have informed her, was a more pernicious evil to society; but to a religious mind, what sound is so horrible as _sacrilege?_ Of vows made to G.o.d or to man, the former must weigh the heaviest. Moreover, the sin of infidelity in the married state, is not a little softened 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 exaggerate the wickedness.

She, who could, and who did pardon Miss Milner, was the person who saw her pa.s.sion 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 a.s.surance, that however deep her love might be fixed, it would never be 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 steadfast principles so much as shaken by the imagination--nor overwhelm him with those self-reproaches which his fatal attraction, unpremeditated as it was, would still have drawn upon him.

With this plan of concealment, in which the natural 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 pa.s.sion 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 proposal; 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 pa.s.sion for Lord Frederick and this proposed plan of separation, the most intricate 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 propensity which lurked in her breast, she was once even on the point of declaring a pa.s.sion 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 Sandford, 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 present, that she was still less in his favour than she had ever been.

He visited Dorriforth on the evening of his engagement with Lord Frederick, and the next morning breakfasted with him in his own chamber; nor did Miss Milner see her guardian after his first return from that engagement before the following noon. She enquired, however, of his servant how he did, and was rejoiced to hear that his wound was but slight--yet this enquiry she durst not make before 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 soothe 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 discovered, 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, pa.s.sed, however, the bounds of her ineffectual resistance, when at the time of retiring after 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 s.e.x) is often gratified by that degree of enjoyment, or rather forbearance, which would be torture in the pursuit of any other pa.s.sion. 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 Dorriforth, Miss Milner thought of little, except of him. As soon as they withdrew into another 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 in a couple of hours she was to meet her guardian 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 uneasiness, 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: could any supernatural power have endowed her with the means, and at the same time have shewn to her the ills that must arise from such an effect of her charms, she had a.s.suredly virtue enough to have declined the conquest; but without enquiring 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-gla.s.s, 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 reason 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 embarra.s.sed moments she pa.s.sed alone with him. He caught at those times her respect, her diffidence, nay, even her embarra.s.sment; and never would one word of anger pa.s.s 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 sentiments 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 happiness, you might have fixed your affections with perhaps less propriety; and still, where my unwillingness to thwart your inclinations might not have permitted me to contend with them."

Not a word of reply did this 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."