"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, starting 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 pa.s.sed in sympathetic grief, in alarm at every sound, lest it should be a messenger to p.r.o.nounce Matilda's destiny.

Lord Elmwood did not stay upon this visit above three hours at Elmwood House; he then set off 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 dispatched to town.

During his short continuance here, Sandford cautiously 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 Nature and Providence he left the whole. What these two powerful principles brought about, the reader will judge, when he peruses the following letter, received early the next morning by Miss Woodley.

A

SIMPLE STORY,

IN FOUR VOLUMES,

BY

MRS. INCHBALD.

VOL. IV.

_THE FOURTH EDITION._

LONDON:

Printed for G. G. and J. ROBINSON,

PATERNOSTER ROW.

1799.

A SIMPLE STORY.

CHAPTER I.

_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, I was to see his then determination (of which he also acquainted me) put in execution. In consequence of Lady Matilda's indisposition, Madam, I have ventured to delay this notice till morning.--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 circ.u.mstance 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 commands not be obeyed.

"If there is any thing wanting for the convenience of your and Lady Matilda's departure, you have 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 a.s.suming.

"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, has encreased my age many years; and I have not the strength to see you upon this occasion. I loved my deceased 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 contents, 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 circ.u.mstances, and she hoped most fervently, the terms of the letter might not be harsh, but that Lord Elmwood had delivered his commands 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 she expected something worse; and the last line, in which Giffard 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 shewn 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 fort.i.tude of Matilda, which came to her a.s.sistance on the first onset of this trial, sufficient 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 it, 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 I 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 me flying to my 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 out of 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."

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, "farewell--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.