With feelings of humanity, and apparently no other sensation--but never did he feel his philanthropy so forcible--Lord Elmwood said, "Let me beg of you, Miss Milner, to have something provided for you."

The earnestness and emphasis with which these few words were p.r.o.nounced, were more flattering than the finest turned compliment would have been; her grat.i.tude was expressed in blushes, and by a.s.suring him she was now "So well, as to sup on the dishes 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 appet.i.te. Lord Elmwood had always been attentive 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 watchfulness 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 grat.i.tude, that gave place to no sentiment except her love.

To relieve the anxiety which her guardian expressed, she endeavoured to appear cheerful, and that anxiety, at length, really made her so. He now pressed her to take one gla.s.s of wine with such solicitude, 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 G.o.ddess, 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 expiation without amendment."

"Well, then," said she, smiling, "suppose I promise 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 pa.s.sed, and Miss Milner retired to rest in far better spirits than her morning's prospect had given her the least pretence 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 person as Miss Fenton--she wished she had been equally acquainted with her's as with Miss Milner's heart, and she would then have acted without injustice 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 VII.

Within a few days, 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 partaking in the joy--Mr.

Sandford lamenting, with the deepest concern, that Miss Fenton had been supplanted; 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 acquainted with Lord Elmwood's resolution, to quit his house; and as the Earl had, with the utmost degree of inflexibility, resisted all his good counsel 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 pa.s.sions, he should make 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 advice, the more you want 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 reason 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 contend, 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 Elmwood'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.

It 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 retained enough of the sanct.i.ty 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 Fenton herself a.s.sured him, that her thoughts were more upon the joys of Heaven than upon those of earth; and as this circ.u.mstance would, she believed, induce her to retire into a convent, she thought it a happy, rather than an unhappy, event. Her brother, on whom her fortune devolved if she took this 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 impa.s.sioned 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, but 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 phantoms of the brain, and never, by system, put into action; but, repeatedly indulged, they were practised by casual occurrences; and the dear-bought 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 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 follies, all her fashionable levities, and indulged them with less restraint than ever.

For a while, blinded by his pa.s.sion, 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 appear 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 oeconomy, 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 charities directed by the force of whim. Another complaint 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 shewing to Miss Woodley, and, more especially to Mr. Sandford, how much she dared upon the strength of his affections.

Everything in preparation for their marriage, which was to take place at Elmwood House during the summer months, she resolved for the short time she had to remain in London to let no occasion pa.s.s of tasting all those pleasures that were not likely ever to return; but which, though eager as she was in their pursuit, she never placed in compet.i.tion with those she hoped would succeed--those more sedate and superior joys, of domestic and conjugal happiness. 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 lawsuit concerning some possessions in the West Indies, and other intricate affairs that came with his t.i.tle 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--and had Miss Milner been the dearest thing on earth to him, he could not have watched her more narrowly; 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 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 that and every other 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 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 dispa.s.sionate, 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," replied he; "for I have seen--what I must always love."

Sandford sighed, and lifted up his hands.

"Mr. Sandford," resumed Lord Elmwood, with a voice and manner such as he used to put on 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 compa.s.sion at your unkind treatment, that first gained her my heart."

"I, my Lord?" 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, depend 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 pa.s.sion, and meet me upon equal ground."

"I will meet no one--I will consult no one--my own judgment shall be the judge, and in a few months marry, 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 content--they bore the symptoms of a menace that would be executed; and he parted from his patron with congratulations upon his wisdom, and with giving him the warmest a.s.surances of his firm reliance 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 understanding, of learning, and a complete casuist, yet all the faults he himself committed, were entirely--for want of knowing better. He constantly reproved faults in others, and he was most a.s.suredly 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 superior of all with whom he lived, had been so busied with instructing others, that he had not recollected that himself wanted instructions--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 harkened 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._ This rule attended to, would make a thousand people amiable, who are now the reverse; and would have made _him_ a perfectly upright character. For could an enemy to whom he would have listened, have whispered to Sandford as he left Lord Elmwood, "Cruel, barbarous man! you go away with your heart satisfied, nay, even elated, in the prospect that Miss Milner's hopes, on which she alone exists, those 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 danger. 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 requires 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 rect.i.tude and conscientiousness, that he would have returned immediately to Lord Elmwood, and have strengthened all his favourable opinions of his intended wife--but having no such monitor, he walked on, highly contented, and meeting Miss Woodley, said, with an air of triumph,