He had even inquired sternly of Giffard on his returning home,

"If Miss Woodley had left the house?"

The steward guessing the whole of his meaning, answered, "Yes, my Lord; and _all_ your commands in that respect have been obeyed."

He replied, "I am satisfied." And, to the grief of the old man, appeared really so.

To the farm-house, the place of Matilda's residence, there came, besides Sandford, another visitor far less welcome--Viscount Margrave. He had heard with surprise, and still greater joy, that Lord Elmwood had once more shut his doors against his daughter. In this her discarded state, he no longer burthened his lively imagination with the dull thoughts of marriage, but once more formed the idea of making her his mistress.

Ignorant of a certain decorum which attended all Lord Elmwood's actions, he suspected that his child might be in want; and an acquaintance with the worst part of her s.e.x informed him, that relief from poverty was the sure bargain for his success. With these hopes, he again paid Miss Woodley and her a visit; but the coldness of the former, and the haughtiness of the latter, still kept him at a distance, and again made him fear to give one allusion to his purpose: but he returned home resolved to write what he durst not speak--he did so--he offered his services, his purse, his house--they were rejected with contempt, and a stronger prohibition than ever given to his visits.

CHAPTER III.

Lord Elmwood had now allowed Rushbrook a long vacation, in respect to his answer upon the subject of marriage; and the young man vainly imagined, his intentions upon that subject were entirely given up. One morning, however, as he was attending him in the library,

"Henry,"----said his uncle, with a pause at the beginning of his speech, which indicated that he was going to say something of importance, "Henry----you have not forgot the discourse I had with you a little time previous to your illness?"

Henry hesitated--for he wished to have forgotten it--but it was too strongly impressed upon his memory. Lord Elmwood resumed,

"What! equivocating again, Sir? Do you remember it, or do you not?"

"Yes, my Lord, I do."

"And are you prepared to give me an answer?"

Rushbrook paused again.

"In our former conversation," continued the Earl, "I gave you but a week to determine--there has, I think, elapsed since that time, half a year."

"About as much, Sir."

"Then surely you have now made up your mind?"

"I had done that at first, my Lord--if it had met with your concurrence."

"You wished to lead a bachelor's life, I think you said?"

Rushbrook bowed.

"Contrary to my will?"

"No, my Lord, I wished to have your approbation."

"And you wished for my approbation of the very opposite thing to that I proposed? But I am not surprised--such is the grat.i.tude of the world--and such is yours."

"My Lord, if you doubt my grat.i.tude----"

"Give me a proof of it, Harry, and I will doubt no longer."

"Upon every other subject but this, my Lord, Heaven is my witness your happiness----"

Lord Elmwood interrupted him. "I understand you--upon every other subject, but the only one, my content requires, you are ready to obey me. I thank you."

"My Lord, do not torture me with this suspicion; it is so contrary to my deserts, that I cannot bear it."

"Suspicion of your ingrat.i.tude!--you judge too favourably of my opinion--it amounts to certainty."

"Then to convince you, Sir, I am not ungrateful, tell me who the Lady is you have chosen for me, and here I give you my word, I will sacrifice all my future prospects of happiness--all, for which I would wish to live--and become her husband as soon as you shall appoint."

This was spoken with a tone so expressive of despair, that Lord Elmwood replied,

"And while you obey me, you take care to let me know, it will cost you your future peace. This is, I suppose, to enhance the merit of the obligation--but I shall not accept your acquiescence on these terms."

"Then in dispensing with it, I hope for your pardon."

"Do you suppose, Rushbrook, I can pardon an offence, the sole foundation of which, arises from a spirit of disobedience?--for you have declared to me your affections are disengaged. In our last conversation did you not say so?"

"At first I did, my Lord--but you permitted me to consult my heart more closely; and I have since found that I was mistaken."

"You then own you at first told me a falsehood, and yet have all this time, kept me in suspense without confessing it."

"I waited, my Lord, till you should enquire----"

"You have then, Sir, waited too long;" and the fire flashed from his eyes.

Rushbrook now found himself in that perilous state, that admitted of no medium of resentment, but by such dastardly conduct on his part, as would wound both his truth and courage; and thus, animated by his danger, he was resolved to plunge boldly at once into the depth of his patron's anger.

"My Lord," said he, (but he did not undertake this task without sustaining the trembling and convulsion of his whole frame) "My Lord--waving for a moment the subject of my marriage--permit me to remind you, that when I was upon my sick bed, you promised, that on my recovery, you would listen to a pet.i.tion I should offer to you."

"Let me recollect," replied he. "Yes--I do remember something of it. But I said nothing to warrant any improper pet.i.tion."

"Its impropriety was not named, my Lord."

"No matter--that, you must judge of, and answer for the consequences."

"I would answer with my life, willingly--but I own that I shrink from your anger."

"Then do not provoke it."

"I have already gone too far to recede--and you would of course demand an explanation, if I attempted to stop here."

"I should."

"Then, my Lord, I am bound to speak--but do not interrupt me--hear me out, before you banish me from your presence for ever."