"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?"

"Yes:" answered he, "I did." But the question at that moment somewhat embarra.s.sed 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 without 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 IV.

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 expected. No engagement between mortals was, in Miss Woodley's opinion, binding like that entered into with heaven; and whatever vows Lord Elmwood had possibly made to another, she justly supposed that no woman's love for him equalled Miss Milner's--it was prior to all others too; that established her claim to contend at least 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 suspence, Miss Woodley soon arrived at the certainty, by inquiring of Mr. Sandford; who, unsuspecting why she asked, readily informed her the intended Lady Elmwood was no other than Miss Fenton; and that their marriage would be solemnized as soon as the mourning for the late Lord Elmwood was over. This last intelligence made Miss Woodley shudder--she repeated it, however, to Miss Milner, word for word.

"Happy! happy woman!" exclaimed Miss Milner of Miss Fenton; "she has received the first fond impulse of his heart, and has had the transcendent 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 transferred her to him."

It was easy to convince Miss Milner that all her friend said was truth, for she wished it so. "And oh!" she exclaimed, "could I but stimulate pa.s.sion, against the cold influence of propriety;--Do you think, my dear Miss Woodley," (and she looked with such begging eyes, it was impossible not to answer as she wished,) "do you think it would be unjust to Miss Fenton, were I to inspire her destined husband with a pa.s.sion which she may not have inspired, and which I believe _she_ cannot feel?"

Miss Woodley paused a minute, and then answered, "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 recall the word, or to alter its meaning by adding others to it, 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 both concluded that Miss Fenton's heart was not engaged in the intended marriage, and consequently that she was indifferent whether it ever took place or not.

Since the death of the late Earl, she had 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 pa.s.sion, was a comfortable reflection.

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?" asked Mrs. Horton.

"She came yesterday morning," returned Sandford, "and is at her brother's, in Ormond-street; my Lord and I 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?" said Mrs. Horton--not dreaming that she was asking the questions before her new lover.

"Uneasy!" replied Sandford, "uneasy at any trial this world can send?

That would be highly unworthy 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 endowed 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 Paradise"--

"How do you know?" said Miss Milner.

"But the beauty of Lucifer," (continued Sandford, in perfect neglect and contempt of her question,) "was an aggravation of his guilt; because it shewed a double share of ingrat.i.tude 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 earnest," 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 herself extremely hurt at this, and made the appeal almost in tears.

"Indeed, I think he does." And he looked at Sandford 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?" 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 replied; "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 of 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 pa.s.sed in anxious expectation by Miss Milner, what would be the event of the evening: for upon her penetration that evening all her future prospects she thought depended. If she saw by his looks, by his words, or a.s.siduities, that he loved Miss Fenton, she flattered herself she would never think of him again with hope; but if she observed him treat her with inattention or indifference, 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 complection. 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 disgusting--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 neglect, 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 but a few degrees more painful than those which she endured.