"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."

"At my peril! Mr. Sandford? Do you a.s.sume 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 sensations 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 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 Elmwood to be reconciled--to see and own her."

"Your vanity would be equal to your temerity--_you_ entreat? She must greatly esteem those paternal 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 Lady Matilda, arises, from what I feel on that account."

"Remove your anxiety, then, from her to yourself; for were I to let Lord Elmwood know what has now pa.s.sed"--

"It is for your own sake, not for mine, if you do not."

"You shall not dare me to it, Mr. Rushbrook." And he rose from his seat: "You shall not dare me to do you an injury. But to avoid the temptation, 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 than Sandford

"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 compa.s.sion, 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."

"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 pa.s.sed this day--it has taken a weight off my mind. I thought my disinclination to you, might perhaps 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.

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 prudence 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 pardon; but the contempt with which he had been treated, more than all the anger, with-held 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 enquiring 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 XIII.

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 Sandford gave his company to the ladies. Rushbrook 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 accompanied 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 pa.s.s so near to Matilda, could he have known what conduct would have been deemed the most respectful, whatever painful denial it had cost him, _that_, he would have adopted. 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 diffidence not affected, but most powerfully felt, pulled off his hat; and without bowing, stood respectfully silent while the company pa.s.sed. 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. Rushbrook, 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 another syllable.

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; but 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 replying, 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 prevented 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 certainly 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 circ.u.mstance of their quarrel.

"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 joy at that voluntary mark of civility he had received from Lady Matilda, felt his heart so joyous, and so free from every particle of malice, that he resolved, in the humblest manner, to make atonement for the violation of decorum he had lately committed against Mr. Sandford.

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 returned home, to beg to know "If he might be permitted 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 Rushbrook 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 pa.s.sed 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.