THE 
 
 BRITISH NOVELISTS; 
 
 WITH AN 
 
 ESSAY, AND PREFACES 
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL AND CRITICAL, 
 
 MRS. BJRBAULD. 
 
 H $eto (jfHttton. 
 
 VOL. XXVIII. 
 
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 Ellerton i. Henderson, Printers, Johnson's Court, Fleet Street, London.
 
 SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 BY 
 
 MRS. INCHBALD. 
 
 *' When my occasions took me into France, towards the close of the 
 laic reign, (he clergy, under all their forms, engaged a considerable part 
 of my curiosity. 
 
 " They seemed to me, beyond the clerical character, liberal and 
 open ; with the hearts of gentlemen, and men of honour. They seemed 
 to me rather a superior class; a sort of men, amongst whom you would 
 not be surprised to find a Fenelon." 
 
 BURKE. 
 
 A NEW EDITION, 
 
 WITH THE LAST CORRECTIONS BY THE AUTHOR.
 
 5 \ i> 
 
 '9> c i 
 
 MRS. INCHBALD. 
 
 1 O readers of taste it would be superfluous to 
 point out the beauties of Mrs. Inchbald's novels. 
 The Simple Story has obtained the decided ap- 
 probation of the best judges. There is an ori- 
 ginality both in the characters and the situations 
 which is not often found in similar productions. 
 To call it a simple start/ is perhaps a misnomer, 
 since the first and second parts are in fact two di- 
 tinct stories, connected indeed by the character 
 of Dorri forth, which they successively serve to 
 illustrate. 
 
 Dorriforth is introduced as a Roman priest of 
 a lofty mind, generous, and endued with strong 
 sensibilities, but having in his disposition much 
 of sternness and inflexibility. His being in 
 priest's orders presents an apparently insurmount- 
 able obstacle to his marriage ; but it is got over, 
 without violating probability, by his becoming- 
 heir to a title and estate, and on that account 
 receiving a dispensation from his vows. Though 
 slow to entertain thoughts of love, as soon as he 
 perceives the partiality of his ward, it enters his 
 breast like a torrent when the flood-gates are 
 opened. The perplexities in which he is involved 
 by Miss Milner's gay unthinking conduct bring 
 them to the very brink of separating for ever ; 
 and very few scenes in any novel have a finer 
 effect than the intended parting of the lovers, 
 
 VOL. XXVIII. a
 
 ii MRS. INCHBALD. 
 
 and their sudden, immediate, unexpected mar- 
 riage. 
 
 It is impossible not to sympathize with the feel- 
 ings of Miss Milner, when she sees the corded 
 trunks standing in the passage ; or again, when 
 after their reconciliation she. sees the carriage 
 which was to take away her }over chive empty 
 from the door. The character of the ward of 
 Dorriforth is so drawn as to excite an interest 
 such as we seldom feel for more faultless cha- 
 racters. Young, sprightly, full of sensibility, 
 gay and thoughtless, we feel such a tenderness 
 for her as we should for a child -who is placing 
 on the brink of a precipice. The break between 
 the first and second parts of the story has a sin- 
 gularly fine effect. We pass over in a m.oment 
 a large space of years, and find every thing 
 changed : scenes of love and conjugal happiness 
 are vanished ; and for the young, gay, thought- 
 less, youthful beauty, we see a broken-hearted 
 penitent on her death-bed. 
 
 This sudden shifting of the scene has an effect 
 which no continued narrative could produce ; an 
 effect which even the scenes of real life could 
 not produce; for the curtain of futurity is lifted 
 up only by degrees, arid we must wait the slow 
 succession of months and years to bring about 
 events which are here presented close together. 
 The death-bed letter of Lady Milner is very so- 
 lemn, and cannot, be perused without tears. 
 
 Dorriforth in these latter volumes is become, 
 from the contemplation of his injuries, morose, 
 unrelenting, and tyrannical. How far it was 
 possible for a man to resist the atrong impulse 
 of nature, and deny himself the sight of his
 
 MRS. INCHBALD. iii 
 
 child residing in the same house with him, the 
 reader will determinne ; but the situation is new 
 and striking. 
 
 It is a particular beauty in Mrs. Inchbald's 
 compositions, that they are thrown so much in- 
 to the dramatic form. There is little of mere 
 narrative, and in what there is of it, the style is 
 careless ; but all the interesting parts are carried 
 on in dialogue : we see and hear the persons 
 themselves; we are but little led to think of the 
 author, and it is only w'hen we have done feel- 
 ing that we begin to admire. 
 
 The only other novel which Mrs. Inchbald, 
 has given to the public is Nature and Ait. It 
 is of a slighter texture than the former, and put 
 together without much attention to probability; 
 the author's object being less to give a regular 
 story than to suggest reflections on the political 
 and moral state of society. For this purpose 
 two youths are introduced, one of whom is edu- 
 cated in all the ideas and usages of civilized life; 
 the other (the child of Nature) without any 
 knowledge of or regard to them. This is the 
 frame which has been used by Mr. Day and 
 others for the same purpose, and naturally tends 
 to introduce remarks more lively than solid, and 
 strictures more epigrammatic than logical, on 
 the differences between rich and poor, the regard 
 paid to rank, and such topics, on which it is 
 easy to dilate with an appearance of reason and 
 humanity ; while it requires a much profounder 
 philosophy to suggest any alteration in the social 
 system, which would not be rather Utop'ar than 
 beneficial.
 
 iv MRS. TNCHBALD. 
 
 There is a beautiful stroke in this part of the 
 work, where Henry, who, according to Rous- 
 seau's plan, had not been taught to pray till he 
 was of an age to know what he was doing, kneels 
 down for the first time with great emotion; and 
 on being asked if he was not afraid to speak to 
 God, says, " To be sure I trembled very much 
 when I first knelt, but when I came to the words 
 'Our Father who art in heaven,' they gave 
 me courage, for I know how kind a father is." 
 
 But by far the finest passage in this novel is 
 the meeting between Hannah and her seducer, 
 when he is seated as judge upon the bench, and, 
 without recollecting the former object of his af- 
 fection, pronounces sentence of death upon her. 
 The shriek she gives, and her exclamation, " Oh, 
 not from you ! " electrifies the reader, and cannot 
 but stir the coldest feelings. 
 
 Judgement and observation may sketch cha- 
 racters, and often put together a good story ; 
 but strokes of pathos, such as the one just men- 
 tioned, or the dying-scene in Mrs. Opie's Father 
 and Daughter, can only be attained by those 
 whom nature has endowed with her choicest 
 gifts. 
 
 One cannot help wishing the author had been 
 a little more liberal of happiness to poor Henry, 
 who sits down contented with poverty and his 
 half-withered Rebecca. 
 
 There is another wish the public has often 
 formed, namely, that these two productions were 
 not the only novels of such a writer as Mrs. 
 Inchbald.
 
 SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 DORRI FORTH, bred at St. Omer's, in all the 
 scholastic rigour of that college, was, by edu- 
 cation and the solemn vows of his order, a Roman 
 Catholic priest : but, nicely discriminating between 
 the philosophical and the superstitious part of that 
 character, he adopted the former only, and pos- 
 sessed qualities not unworthy of the first pro- 
 fessors of Christianity. Every virtue which it was 
 his vocation to preach, it was his care to practise : 
 nor was he in the class of those of the religious, 
 who, by secluding themselves from the world, fly 
 from the merit they might acquire in reforming 
 mankind. He refused to shelter himself from the 
 temptations of the layman by the walls of a cloister; 
 but sought for, and found that shelter within the 
 centre of London where he dwelt, in his own pru- 
 dence, justice, fortitude, and temperance. 
 
 He was about thirty, and had lived in the metro- 
 polis near five years, when a gentleman, above his 
 
 VOL. XXVIII. B
 
 2 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 own age, but with whom he had in his youth con- 
 tracted a sincere friendship, died, and left him the 
 sole guardian of his daughter, who was then eigh- 
 teen. 
 
 The deceased Mr. Milner, on his approaching 
 dissolution, perfectly sensible of his state, thus rea- 
 soned with himself before he made the nomination : 
 " I have formed no intimate friendship during my 
 whole life, except one : I can be said to know the 
 heart of no man, except the heart of Dorriforth. 
 After knowing his, I never sought acquaintance 
 with another ; I did not wish to lessen the exalted 
 estimation of human nature which he had inspired. 
 In this moment of trembling apprehension for every 
 thought which darts across my mind, and more for 
 every action which soon I must be called to answer 
 for ; all worldly views here thrown aside, I act as if 
 that tribunal, before which I every moment expect 
 to appear, were now sitting in judgment upon my 
 purpose. The care of an only child is the great 
 charge which in this tremendous crisis I have to 
 execute. These earthly affections that bind me to 
 her by custom, sympathy, or what I fondly call pa- 
 rental love, would direct me to consult her present 
 happiness, and leave her to the care of those whom 
 she thinks her dearest friends ; but they are friends 
 only in the sunshine of fortune : in the cold nip- 
 ping frost of disappointment, sickness, or connubial 
 strife, they will forsake the house of care, although 
 the very fabric which they may have themselves 
 erected." 
 
 Here the excruciating anguish of the father over- 
 came that of the dying man. 
 
 " In the moment of desertion," continued he, 
 " which I now picture to myself, where will my 
 child find comfort ? That heavenly aid which reli- 
 gion provides, and which now, amidst these agoniz-
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 3 
 
 ing tortures, cheers with humble hope my afflicted 
 soul; that she will be denied." 
 
 It is in this place proper to remark, that Mr. 
 Milner was a member of the Church of Rome, but 
 on his marriage with a lady of Protestant tenets, 
 they mutually agreed their sons should be educated 
 in the religious opinion of their father, and their 
 daughters in that of their mother. One child only 
 was the result of their union; the child whose future 
 welfare now occupied the anxious thoughts of her 
 expiring father. From him the care of her educa- 
 tion had been withheld, as he kept inviolate his pro- 
 mise to her departed mother on the article of reli- 
 gion, and therefore consigned his daughter to a 
 boarding-school for Protestants, whence she re- 
 turned with merely such ideas of piety as ladies 
 of fashion, at her age, mostly imbibe. Her little 
 heart, employed in all the endless pursuits of per- 
 sonal accomplishments, hid left her mind without 
 one ornament, except such as Nature gave ; and 
 even they were not wholly preserved from the 
 ravages made by its rival, Art. 
 
 While her father was in health he beheld, with 
 extreme delight, his accomplished daughter, with- 
 out one fault which taste or elegance could have 
 imputed to her ; nor ever inquired what might be 
 her other failings. But, cast on a bed of sickness, 
 and upon the point of leaving her to her fate, those 
 failings at once rushed on his thought ; and all the 
 pride, the fond enjoyment he had taken in behold- 
 ing her open the ball, or delight her hearers with 
 her wit or song, escaped his remembrance, or, not 
 escaping it, were lamented with a sigh of compas- 
 sion, or a contemptuous frown at such frivolous 
 qualifications. 
 
 " Something essential," said he to himself, " must 
 be considered something to prepare her for an 
 n 2
 
 4 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 hour like this. Can I then leave her to the charge 
 of those who themselves never remember such an 
 hour will come ? Dorriforth is the only person I 
 know, who, uniting the moral virtues to those of 
 religion, and pious faith to native honour, will pro- 
 tect without controuling, instruct without tyranniz- 
 ing, comfort without flattering; and, perhaps in 
 time, make good by choice, rather than by con- 
 straint, the tender object of his dying friend's sole 
 care." 
 
 Dorriforth, who came post from London to visit 
 Mr. Milner in his illness, received a few moments 
 before his death all his injunctions, and promised to 
 fulfil them. But, in this last token of his friend's 
 perfect esteem, he still was restrained from all 
 authority to direct his ward in one religious opi- 
 nion, contrary to those her mother had professed, 
 and in which she herself had been educated. 
 
 " Never perplex her mind with any opinions that 
 may disturb, but cannot reform," were his latest 
 words ; and Dorriforth's reply gave him entire 
 satisfaction. 
 
 Miss Milner was not with her father at this affect- 
 ing period : some delicately nervous friend, with 
 whom she was on a visit at Bath, thought proper to 
 conceal from her not only the danger of his death, 
 but even his indisposition, lest it might alarm a mind 
 she thought too susceptible. This refined tender- 
 ness gave poor Miss Milner the almost insupport- 
 able agony of hearing that her father was no more, 
 even before she was told he was not in health. In 
 the bitterest anguish she flew to pay her last duty 
 to his remains, and performed it with the truest 
 filial love; while Dorriforth, upon important busi- 
 ness, was obliged to return to town.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Dorri forth returned to London heavily afflicted 
 for the loss of his friend ; and yet, perhaps, with his 
 thoughts more engaged upon the trust which that 
 friend had reposed in hiin. He knew the life Miss 
 Milner had been accustomed to lead : he dreaded 
 the repulses his admonitions might possibly meet ; 
 and feared he had undertaken a task he was too 
 weak to execute the protection of a young woman 
 of fashion. 
 
 Mr. Dorriforth was nearly related to one of our 
 first Catholic peers ; his income was by no means 
 confined, but approaching to affluence ; yet such 
 was his attention to those in poverty, and the mode- 
 ration of his own desires, that he lived in all the 
 careful plainness of economy. His habitation was 
 in the house of a Mrs. Horton, an elderly gentlewo- 
 man, who had a maiden niece residing with her, not 
 many years younger than herself. But, although 
 Miss Woodley was thirty-five, and in person ex- 
 ceedingly plain, yet she possessed such cheerful- 
 ness of temper, and such an inexhaustible fund of 
 good nature, that she escaped not only the ridicule, 
 but even the appellation of an old maid. 
 
 In this house Dorriforth had lived before the 
 death of Mr. Horton ; nor upon that event had he 
 thought it necessary, notwithstanding his religious 
 vow of celibacy, to fly the roof of two such innocent 
 females as Mrs. Horton and her niece. On their 
 part, they regarded him with all that respect and 
 reverence which the most religious flock shows to 
 its pastor ; and his friendly society they not only es- 
 teemed a spiritual, but a temporal advantage, as the 
 liberal stipend he allowed for his apartments and 
 board, enabled them to continue in the large and 
 B3
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 commodious house which they had occupied during 
 the life of Mr. Horton. 
 
 Here, upon Mr. Dorriforth's return from his 
 journey, preparations were commenced for the re- 
 ception of his ward ; her father having made it his 
 request that she might, for a time at least, reside in 
 the same house with her guardian, receive the same 
 visits, and cultivate the acquaintance of his com- 
 panions and friends. 
 
 When the will of her father was made known to 
 Miss Milner, she submitted, without the least re- 
 luctance, to all he had required. Her mind, at that 
 time impressed with the most poignant sorrow for 
 his loss, made no distinction of happiness that was 
 to come ; and the day was appointed, with her silent 
 acquiescence, when she was to arrive in London, 
 and there take up her abode, with all the retinue of 
 a rich heiress. 
 
 Mrs. Horton was delighted with the addition this 
 acquisition to her family was likely to make to her 
 annual income, and style of living. The good- 
 natured Miss Woodley was overjoyed at the expect- 
 ation of their new guest, yet she herself could not 
 tell why ; but the reason was, that her kind heart 
 wanted a more ample field for its benevolence : and 
 now her thoughts were all pleasingly employed how 
 she should render, not only the lady herself, but 
 even all her attendants, happy in their new situa- 
 tion. 
 
 The reflections of Dorriforth were less agreeably 
 engaged : cares, doubts, fears, possessed his mind 
 and so forcibly possessed it, that upon every oc- 
 casion which offered, he would inquisitively endea- 
 vour to gain intelligence of his ward's disposition 
 before he saw her ; for he was, as yet, a stranger 
 not only to the real propensities of her mind, but 
 even to her person ; a constant round of visits, having
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 7 
 
 prevented his meeting her at her father's, the very 
 few times he had been at his house, since her final 
 return from school. The first person whose opi- 
 nion he, with all proper reserve, asked concerning 
 Miss Milner, was Lady Evans, the widow of a ba- 
 ronet, who frequently visited at Mrs. Horton's 
 
 But that the reader may be interested in what 
 Dorriforth says and does, it is necessary to give 
 tome description of his person and manners. His 
 figure was tall and elegant ; but his face, except a 
 pair of dark bright eyes, a set of white teeth, and a 
 graceful arrangement in his clerical curls of brown 
 hair, had not one feature to excite admiration yet 
 such a gleam of sensibility was diffused over each, 
 that many persons admired his visage as completely 
 handsome, and all were more or less attracted by it. 
 In a word, the charm, that is here meant to be 
 described, is a countenance on his you read the 
 feelings of his heart saw all its inmost workings 
 the quick pulses that beat with hope and fear, or the 
 gentle ones that moved in a more equal course of 
 patience and resignation. On this countenance his 
 thoughts were pourtrayed ; and as his mind was en- 
 riched with every virtue that could make it valuable, 
 so was his face adorned with every expression of 
 those virtues; and they not only gave a lustre to 
 his aspect, but added an harmonious sound to all he 
 uttered; it was persuasive, it was perfect eloquence: 
 whilst in his looks you beheld his thoughts moving 
 with his lips, and ever coinciding with what he 
 said. 
 
 With one of those expressions of countenance, 
 which revealed anxiety of heart, and yet with that 
 graceful restraint of all gesticulation, for which he 
 was remarkable, even in his most anxious concerns, 
 he addressed Lady Evans, who had called on Mrs. 
 Horton to hear and to request the news of the day :
 
 8 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " Your ladyship was at Bath last spring you know 
 the young lady to whom I have the honour of being 
 appointed guardian. Pray" 
 
 He was earnestly intent upon asking a question, 
 but was prevented by the person interrogated. 
 
 " Dear Mr. Dorriforth, do not ask me any thing 
 about Miss Milner : when I saw her she was very 
 young ; though indeed that is but three months ago, 
 and she can't be much older now." 
 
 " She is eighteen," answered Dorriforth, colour- 
 ing with regret at the doubts which this lady had 
 increased, but not inspired. 
 
 *' And she is very beautiful that I can assure 
 you," said Lady Evans. 
 
 " Which I call no qualification," said Dorriforth, 
 rising from his chair in evident uneasiness. 
 
 " But where there is nothing else, let me tell you, 
 beauty is something." 
 
 " Much worse than nothing, in my opinion," re- 
 turned Dorriforth. 
 
 ' But now, Mr. Dorriforth, do not from what I 
 have said, frighten yourself, and imagine your ward 
 worse than she really is. All I know of her is 
 merely, that she's young, idle, indiscreet, and 
 giddy, with half a dozen lovers in her suite ; some 
 coxcombs, others men of gallantry, some single, 
 and others married." 
 
 Dorriforth started. " For the first time of my 
 life," cried he with a manly sorrow, " I wish I had 
 never known her father." 
 
 " Nay," said Mrs. Horton, who expected every 
 thing to happen just as she wished, (for neither an 
 excellent education, the best company, nor long 
 experience had been able to cultivate or brighten 
 this good lady's understanding) " Nay," said she 
 " I am sure, Mr. Dorriforth, you will soon convert 
 her from all her evil ways."
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " Dear me," returned Lady Evans, " I am sure 
 I never meant to hint at any thing evil ; and for 
 what I have said, I will give you up my authors if 
 you please ; for they were not observations of my 
 own : all I do is to mention them again." 
 
 The good-natured Miss Woodley, who sat work- 
 ing at the window, an humble, but an attentive 
 listener to this discourse, ventured here to say ex- 
 actly six words : " Then don't mention them any 
 more." 
 
 " Let us change the subject," said Dorriforth. 
 
 " With all my heart," cried Lady Evans ; " and 
 I am sure it will be to the young lady's advantage." 
 
 " Is Miss Miluer tall or short?" asked Mrs. Hor- 
 ton, still wishing for farther information. 
 
 " Oh, tall enough of all conscience," returned 
 she : " I tell you again that no fault can be found 
 with her person." 
 
 " But if her mind is defective" exclaimed Dor- 
 riforth, with a sigh 
 
 " That may be improved as well as the person," 
 cried Miss Woodley. 
 
 " No, my dear," returned Lady Evans, " I never 
 heard of a pad to make straight an ill-shapen dis- 
 position." 
 
 " Oh, yes," answered Miss Woodley: " good 
 company, good books, experience, and the misfor- 
 tunes of others, may have more power to form the 
 mind to virtue, than " 
 
 Miss Woodley was not permitted to proceed ; for 
 Lady Evans, rising hastily from her seat, cried, " I 
 must be gone I have an hundred people waiting 
 forme at home besides, were I inclined to hear a 
 sermon, I should desire Mr. Dorriforth to preach, 
 and not you." 
 
 Just then Mrs. Hillgrave was announced. " And 
 here is Mrs. Hillgrave," continued she " I be-
 
 10 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 lieve, Mrs. Hillgrave, you knew Miss Milner; don't 
 you ? The young lady who has lately lost her fa- 
 ther?" 
 
 Mrs. Hillgrave was the wife of a merchant who 
 had met with severe losses : as soon as the name of 
 Miss Milner was uttered, she lifted up her hands, 
 and the tears started in her eyes. 
 
 "There!" cried Lady Evans, " I desire you will 
 give your opinion of her, and I am sorry 1 cannot 
 stay to hear it." Saying this, she curtsied and took 
 her leave. 
 
 When Mrs. Hillgrave had been seated a few 
 minutes, Mrs. Horton, who loved information equal- 
 ly with the most inquisitive of her sex, asked the 
 new visitor " if she might be permitted to know, 
 why, at the mention of Miss Milner, she had seemed 
 so much affected." 
 
 This question exciting the fears of Dorriforth, he 
 turned anxiously round, attentive to the reply. 
 
 " Miss Milner," answered she, " has been my 
 benefactress, and the best I ever had." As she 
 spoke, she took out her handkerchief and wiped 
 away the tears that ran down her face. 
 
 " How so?" cried Dorriforth eagerly, with his 
 own eyes moistened with joy, nearly as much as 
 hers were with gratitude. 
 
 " My husband, at the commencement of his dis- 
 tresses," replied Mrs. Hillgrave, " owed a sum of 
 money to her father, and from repeated provoca- 
 tions, Mr. Milner was determined to seize upon all 
 our effects. His daughter, however, by her inter- 
 cessions, procured us time, in order to discharge 
 the debt ; and when she found that time was insuf- 
 ficient, and her father no longer to be dissuaded 
 from his intention, she secretly sold some of her 
 most valuable ornaments to satisfy his demand, and 
 screen us from its consequences.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 11 
 
 Dorriforth, pleased at this recital, took Mrs. Hil- 
 grave by the hand, and told her, " she should never 
 want a friend." 
 
 " Is Miss Milner tall, or short?" again asked 
 Mrs. Horton, fearing, from the sudden pause which 
 had ensued, the subject should be dropped. 
 
 " I don't know," answered Mrs. Hillgrave. 
 
 " Is she handsome, or ugly?" 
 
 " I really can't tell." 
 
 " It is very strange you should not take notice." 
 
 " I did take notice, but I cannot depend upon 
 my own judgment. To me she appeared beautiful as 
 an angel ; but perhaps I was deceived by the beau- 
 ties of her disposition." 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 This gentlewoman's visit inspired Mr. Dorriforth 
 with some confidence in the principles and character 
 of his ward. The day arrived on which she was to 
 leave her late father's seat, and fix her abode at Mrs. 
 Horton's ; and her guardian, accompanied by Miss 
 Woodley, went in his carriage to meet her, and 
 waited at an inn on the road for her reception. 
 
 After many a sigh paid to the memory of her fa- 
 ther, Miss Milner, upon the tenth of November, 
 arrived at the place, half-way on her journey to 
 town, where Dorriforth and Miss Woodley were 
 expecting her. Besides attendants, she had with 
 her a gentleman and lady, distant relations of her 
 mother's, who thought it but a proper testimony of 
 their civility to attend her part of the way, but 
 who so much envied her guardian the trust Mr. 
 Milner had reposed in him, that as soon as they had 
 delivered her safe into his care, they returned.
 
 12 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 When the carriage, which hrought Miss Milner, 
 stopped at the inn gate, and her name was an- 
 nounced to Dorriforth, he turned pale something 
 like a foreboding of disaster trembled at his heart, 
 and consequently spread a gloom over all his face. 
 Miss Woodley was even obliged to rouse him 
 from the dejection into which he was cast, or he 
 would have sunk beneath it : she was obliged also 
 to be the first to welcome his lovely charge 
 lovely beyond description. 
 
 But the natural vivacity, the gaiety which report 
 had given to Miss Milner, were softened by her re- 
 cent sorrow to a meek sadness and that haughty 
 display of charms, imputed to her manners, was 
 changed to a pensive demeanour. The instant Dor- 
 riforth was introduced to her by Miss Woodley as 
 her " guardian, and her deceased fathers most 
 beloved friend," she burst into tears, knelt down to 
 him for a moment, and promised ever to obey him 
 as her father. He had his handkerchief to his face 
 at the time, or she would have beheld the agitation 
 the femotest sensations of his heart. 
 z : This affecting introduction being over, after some 
 minutes passed in general conversation, the car- 
 riages were again ordered ; and, bidding farewel to 
 the relations who had accompanied her, Miss Milner, 
 her guardian, and Miss Woodley departed for town; 
 the two ladies in Miss Milner's carriage, and Dorri- 
 forth in that in which she came. 
 
 Miss Woodley, as they rode along, made no at- 
 tempts to ingratiate herself with Miss Milner ; 
 though, perhaps, such an honour might constitute 
 one of her first wishes : she behaved to her but as 
 she constantly behaved to every other human crea- 
 ture and that was sufficient to gain the esteem of 
 a person possessed of an understanding equal to Miss 
 Milner's. She had penetration to discover Miss
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 13 
 
 Wood ley's unaffected worth, and was soon induced 
 to reward it with the wannest friendship. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 After a night's rest in London ; less violently im- 
 pressed with the loss of her father, reconciled, if 
 not already attached to her new acquaintance, her 
 thoughts pleasingly occupied with the reflection that 
 she was in that gay metropolis a wild and rap- 
 turous picture of which her active fancy had often 
 formed ; Miss Milner waked from a peaceful and 
 refreshing sleep, with much of that vivacity, and 
 with all those airy charms, which for a while had 
 yielded their transcendent power to the weaker- in- 
 fluence of her filial sorrow. 
 
 Beautiful as she had appeared to Miss Woodley 
 and to Dorriforth on the preceding day, when she 
 joined them this morning at breakfast, re-possessed 
 of her lively elegance and dignified simplicity, they 
 gazed at her, and at each other alternately, with 
 astonishment : and Mrs. Horton, as she sat at the 
 head of her tea-table, felt herself but as a menial 
 servant ; such command has beauty when united 
 with sense and virtue. In Miss Milner it was so 
 .united. Yet let not our over-scrupulous readers be 
 misled_, and extend their idea of her virtue so as to 
 magnify it beyond that which frail mortals com- 
 jnonly possess ; nor must they cavil, if, on a nearer 
 view, they find it less ; but let them consider, that 
 if she had more faults than generally belong to 
 others, she had likewise more temptations. 
 
 From her infancy she had been indulged in all her 
 wishes to the extreme of folly, and started habitually 
 at the unpleasant voice of control. She was beauti- 
 
 vol, xxvm. c
 
 14 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 ful ; she had been too frequently told the high value 
 of that beauty, and thought every moment passed in 
 wasteful idleness during which she was not gaining 
 some new conquest. She had a quick sensibility, 
 which too frequently discovered itself in the imme- 
 diate resentment of injuries or neglect. She had, 
 besides, acquired the dangerous character of a wit ; 
 but to which she had no real pretensions, although 
 the most discerning critic, hearing her converse, 
 might fall into this mistake. Her replies had all the 
 effect of repartee, not because she possessed those 
 qualities which can properly be called wit, but that 
 what she said was delivered with an energy, an in- 
 stantaneous and powerful conception of the senti- 
 ment, joined with a real or a well-counterfeited sim- 
 plicity, a quick turn of the eye, and an arch smile. 
 Her words were but the words of others, and, like 
 those of others, put into common sentences: but the 
 delivery made them pass for wit, as grace in an ill- 
 proportioned figure will often make it pass for sym- 
 metry. 
 
 And now, leaving description, the reader must 
 form a judgment of the ward of Dorriforth by her 
 actions ; by all the round of great or trivial circum- 
 stances that shall be related. 
 
 At breakfast, which had just begun at the com- 
 mencement of this chapter, the conversation was 
 lively on the part of Miss Milner, wise on the part of 
 Dorriforth, good on the part of Miss Woodley, and 
 an endeavour at all three of those qualities on the 
 part of Mrs. Horton. The discourse at length drew 
 from Mr. Dorriforth this observation : 
 
 " You have a greater resemblance of your father, 
 Miss Milner, than I imagined you had from report : 
 I did not expect to find you so like him." 
 
 " Nor did I, Mr. Dorriforth, expect to find you; 
 any thing like what you are ! "
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 16 
 
 " No ! pray what did you expect to find me?" 
 
 " I expected to find you an elderly man, and a 
 j)lain man." 
 
 This was spoken in an artless manner, but in a 
 tone which obviously declared she thought her guar- 
 dian both young and handsome. He replied, but 
 :not without some little embarrassment, " A plain 
 rman you shall find m& in all my actions." 
 
 " Then your actions are to contradict your ap- 
 pearance." 
 
 For in what she said, Miss Milner had the quality 
 peculiar to wits, of hazarding the thought that first 
 occurs, which thought is generally truth. On this, 
 he paid her a compliment in return : 
 
 " You, Miss Milner, I should suppose, must be 
 a very bad judge of what is plain, and what is not." 
 
 " How so?" 
 
 " Because I am sure you will readily own you do 
 not think yourself handsome; and allowing that, you 
 instantly want judgment." 
 
 " And I would rather want judgment than beau- 
 ty," she replied ; " and so I give up the one for the 
 other." 
 
 With a serious face, as if proposing a very serious 
 question, Dorriforth continued, " And you really 
 believe you are not handsome?" 
 
 " I should, if I consulted my own opinion, believe 
 that I was not: but in some respects I am like Roman 
 Catholics; I don't believe upon my own understand- 
 ing, but from what other people tell me." 
 
 " And let this convince you," replied Dorriforth, 
 " that what we teach is truth ; for you find you would 
 be deceived, did you not trust to persons who know 
 better than yourself. But, my dear Miss Milner, we 
 will talk upon some other topic, and never resume 
 this again. We differ in opinion, I dare say, on one 
 subject only ; and this difference I hope will never 
 c 2
 
 10 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 extend itself to any other. Therefore, let not reli- 
 gion be named between us ; for as I have resolved 
 never to persecute you, in pity be grateful, and do 
 not persecute me." 
 
 Miss Milner looked with surprise that any thing 
 so lightly said should be so seriously received. 
 The kind Miss Woodley ejaculated a short prayer 
 to herself, that Heaven would forgive her young 
 friend the involuntary sin of religious ignorance ; 
 while Mrs. Horton, unperceived, as she imagined, 
 made the sign of the cross upon her forehead, as a 
 guard against the infectious taint of heretical opi- 
 nions. This pious ceremony Miss Milner by chance 
 observed, and now shewed such an evident propen- 
 sity to burst into a fit of laughter, that the good 
 lady of the house could no longer contain her re- 
 sentment, but exclaimed, " God forgive you," with 
 a severity so different from the sentiment which the 
 words conveyed, that the object of her anger was, 
 on this, obliged freely to indulge that impulse which 
 she had in vain been struggling to suppress ; and no 
 longer suffering under the agony of restraint, she 
 gave way to her humour, and laughed with a liberty 
 so uncontrolled, that it soon left her in the room 
 with none but the tender-hearted Miss Woodley a 
 witness of her folly. 
 
 " My dear Miss Woodley," then cried Miss Mil- 
 ner, after recovering herself, " I am afraid you 
 will not forgive me." 
 
 " No, indeed I will not," returned Miss Wood- 
 
 But how unimportant, how weak, how ineffectual 
 are words in conversation, looks and manners alone 
 express : for Miss Woodley, with her charitable face 
 and mild accents, saying she would not forgive im- 
 plied only forgiveness ; while Mrs. Horton, with her 
 enraged voice and aspect, begging Heaven to par-
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 17 
 
 don the offender, palpably said, she thought her 
 unworthy of all pardon. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Six weeks have now elapsed since Miss Milner has 
 been in London, partaking with delight all its plea- 
 sures ; while Dorriforth has been sighing with appre- 
 hension, attending to all her words and ways with 
 precaution, and praying with zealous fervour for her 
 safety. Her own and her guardian's acquaintance, 
 and, added to them, the new friendships (to use the 
 unmeaning language of the world) which she was 
 continually forming, crowded so perpetually to the 
 house, that seldom had Dorriforth even a moment 
 left him from her visits or visitors, to warn her of 
 her danger : yet when a moment offered, he caught 
 it eagerly pressed the necessity of " time not al- 
 ways passed in society ; of reflection, of reading, of 
 thoughts for a future state, and of virtues acquired 
 to make old age supportable." That forcible power 
 of genuine feeling, which directs the tongue to elo- 
 quence, had its effect while she listened to him, and 
 she sometimes put on the looks and gesture of 
 assent : sometimes even spoke the language of 
 conviction ; but this the first call of dissipation 
 would change to ill-timed raillery, or peevish re- 
 monstrance, at being limited in delights which her 
 birth and fortune entitled her to enjoy. 
 
 Among the many visitors who attended at her 
 levees, and followed her wherever she went, there 
 was one who seemed, even when absent from her, 
 to share her thoughts. This was Lord Frederick 
 Lawnley, the younger son of a duke, and the avowed 
 favourite of all the most discerning women of taste, 
 c 3
 
 18 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 He was not more than twenty-three ; animated, 
 elegant, extremely handsome, and possessed of every 
 accomplishment that would captivate a heart less 
 susceptible of love than Miss Milner's was supposed 
 to be. With these allurements, no wonder if she 
 took pleasure in his company ; no wonder if she 
 took pride in having it known that he was among 
 the number of her devoted admirers. Dorriforth 
 beheld this growing intimacy with alternate pain 
 and pleasure : he wished to see Miss Milner married, 
 to see his charge in the protection of another, rather 
 than of himself; yet under the care of a young 
 nobleman, immersed in all the vices of the town, 
 without one moral excellence, but such as might 
 result eventually from the influence of the moment 
 under such care he trembled for her happiness ; 
 yet trembled more lest her heart should be purloined 
 without even the authority of matrimonial views. 
 
 With sentiments like these, Dorriforth could 
 never disguise his uneasiness at the sight of Lord 
 Frederick ; nor could the latter want penetration to 
 discern the suspicion of the guardian, and conse- 
 quently each was embarrassed in the presence of 
 the other. Miss Milner observed, but observed 
 with indifference, the sensations of both : there was 
 but one passion which then held a place in her 
 bosom, and that was vanity ; vanity defined into all 
 the species of pride, vain-glory, self-approbation[; 
 an inordinate desire of admiration, and an immo- 
 derate enjoyment of the art of pleasing, for her own 
 individual happiness, and not for the happiness of 
 others. Still had she a heart inclined, and often- 
 times affected by tendencies less unworthy; but 
 those approaches to what was estimable, were in 
 their first impulse too frequently met and inter- 
 cepted by some darling folly. 
 
 Miss Woodley (who could easily discover a vir-
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 19 
 
 tue, although of the most diminutive kind, and 
 scarcely through the magnifying glass of calumny 
 could ever perceive a fault) was Miss Milner's in- 
 separable companion at home, and her zealous 
 advocate with Dorriforth, whenever, during her ab- 
 sence, she became the subject of discourse. He 
 listened with hope to the praises of her friend, but 
 saw with despair how little they were merited. 
 Sometimes he struggled to subdue his anger, but 
 oftener strove to suppress tears of pity for his ward's 
 hapless state. 
 
 By this time all her acquaintance had given Lord 
 Frederick to her as a lover ; the servants whispered 
 it, and some of the public prints had even fixed the 
 day of marriage : but as no explanation had taken 
 place on his part, Dorriforth's uneasiness was in- 
 creased ; and he seriously told Miss Milner, he 
 thought it would be indispensably prudent in her to 
 entreat Lord Frederick to discontinue his visits. 
 She smiled with ridicule at the caution ; but finding 
 it repeated, and in a manner that indicated authority, 
 she promised not only to make, but to enforce the 
 request. The next time he came, she did so ; as- 
 suring him it was by her guardian's desire, " who, 
 from motives of delicacy, had permitted her to so- 
 licit as a favour what he could himself make as a 
 demand." Lord Frederick reddened with anger : 
 he loved Miss Milner ; but he doubted whether, 
 from the frequent proofs he had experienced of his 
 own inconstancy, he should continue to love ; and 
 this interference of her guardian threatened an 
 explanation or a dismission, before he became tho- 
 roughly acquainted with his own heart. Alarmed, 
 confounded, and provoked, he replied, 
 
 " By Heaven, I believe Mr. Dorriforth loves you 
 himself; and it is jealousy alone that makes him 
 treat me in this manner."
 
 20 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " For shame, my lord ! " cried Miss Woodley, 
 who was present, and who trembled with horror at 
 the sacrilegious supposition. 
 
 " Nay, shame to him, if he is not in love," an- 
 swered his lordship ; " for who but a savage could 
 behold beauty like hers without owning its power?" 
 
 " Habit," replied Miss Milner, " is every thing : 
 Mr. Dorriforth sees and converses with beauty ; 
 but, from habit, he does not fall in love ; and you, 
 my lord, from habit, often do." 
 
 " Then you believe that love is not in my dispo- 
 sition?" 
 
 " No more of it, my lord, than habit could very 
 soon extinguish." 
 
 " But I would not have it extinguished I would 
 rather it should mount to a flame ; for I think it a 
 crime to be insensible of the divine blessings love 
 can bestow." 
 
 " Then you indulge the passion to avoid a sin? 
 This very motive deters Mr. Dorriforth from that 
 indulgence." 
 
 " It ought to deter him, for the sake of his oaths; 
 but monastic vows, like those of marriage, were 
 made to be broken : and surely when your guardian 
 cast his eyes on you, his wishes " 
 
 " Are never less pure," she replied eagerly, " than 
 those which dwell in the bosom of my celestial 
 guardian." 
 
 At that instant Dorriforth entered the room. The 
 colour had mounted into Miss Milner's face, from 
 the warmth with which she had delivered her 
 opinion ; and his accidental entrance at the very 
 moment this praise had been conferred upon him in 
 his absence, heightened the blush to a deep glow on 
 every feature : confusion and earnestness caused 
 even her lips to tremble and her whole frame to 
 shake.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 21 
 
 " What is the matter ?" cried Dorriforth, looking 
 with concern on her discomposure. 
 
 " A compliment paid by herself to you, sir," re- 
 plied Lord Frederick, " has affected your ward in 
 the manner" you have seen." 
 
 " As if she blushed at the untruth," said Dorri- 
 forth. 
 
 " Nay, that is unkind," cried Miss Woodley ; 
 " for if you had been here" 
 
 " I would not have said what I did," replied 
 Miss Milner, " but had left him to vindicate himself." 
 
 " Is it possible that I can want any vindication ? 
 Who would think it worth their while to slander 
 so unimportant a person as I am?" 
 
 " The man who has the charge of Miss Milner/' 
 replied Lord Frederick, "derives a consequence from 
 her." 
 
 " No ill consequence, I hope, my lord I" said 
 Dorriforth, with a firmness in his voice, and with an 
 eye so fixed, that his antagonist hesitated for a mo- 
 ment in want of a reply ; and Miss Milner softly 
 whispering to him, as her guardian turned his head, 
 to avoid an argument, he bowed acquiescence. 
 Then, as if in compliment to her, he changed the 
 subject ; and with an air of ridicule he cried, 
 
 " I wish, Mr. Dorriforth, you would give me ab- 
 solution of all my sins, for I confess they are many, 
 and manifold." 
 
 " Hold, my lord," exclaimed Dorriforth, " do not 
 confess before the ladies, lest, in order to excite 
 their compassion, you should be tempted to accuse 
 yourself of sins you have never yet committed." 
 
 At this Miss Milner laughed, seemingly so well 
 pleased, that Lord Frederick, with a sarcastic sneer, 
 repeated, 
 
 From Abelarri it came, 
 
 " And Elo'ua Mill must love the name."
 
 22 A SIMrLE STORY. 
 
 Whether from an inattention to the quotation, or 
 from a consciousness it was wholly inapplicable, 
 Dorriforth heard it without one emotion of shame 
 or of anger while Miss Milner seemed shocked at 
 the implication ; her pleasantry was immediately 
 suppressed, and she threw open the sash and held 
 her head out at the window, to conceal the embar- 
 rassment these lines had occasioned. 
 
 The Earl of Elmwood was at that juncture an- 
 nounced a Catholic nobleman, just come of age, 
 and on the eve of marriage. His visit was to his 
 cousin, Mr. Dorriforth ; but as all ceremonious visits 
 were alike received by Dorriforth, Miss Milner, and 
 Mrs. Horton's family, in one common apartment, 
 Lord Elmwood was ushered into this, and of course 
 directed the conversation to a different topic. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 With an anxious desire that the affection, or ac- 
 quaintance, between Lord Frederick and Miss 
 Milner might be finally dissolved, her guardian 
 received with infinite satisfaction, overtures of mar- 
 riage from Sir Edward Ashton. Sir Edward was 
 not young or handsome, old or ugly, but immensely 
 rich and possessed of qualities that made him 
 worthy of the happiness to which he aspired. He 
 was the man whom Dorriforth would have chosen 
 before any other for the husband of his ward ; and 
 his wishes made him sometimes hope, against his 
 cooler judgment, that Sir Edward would not be re- 
 jected. He was resolved, at all events, to try the 
 force of his own power in the strongest recommenda- 
 tion of him. 
 Notwithstanding that dissimilarity of opinion
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 23 
 
 which, in almost every instance, subsisted between 
 Miss Milner and her guardian, there was in general 
 the most punctilious observance of good manners 
 from each towards the other on the part of Dorri- 
 forth more especially ; for his politeness would some- 
 times appear even like the result of a system which 
 he had marked out for himself, as the only means- 
 to keep his ward restrained within the same limita- 
 tions. Whenever he addressed her there was an 
 unusual reserve upon his countenance, and more 
 than usual gentleness in the tone of his voice : 
 this appeared the effect of sentiments which her 
 birth and situation inspired, joined to a studied 
 mode of respect, best calculated to enforce the 
 same from her. The wished-for consequence was 
 produced ; for though there was an instinctive rec- 
 titude in the understanding of Miss Milner that 
 would have taught her, without other instruction, 
 what manners to observe towards her deputed 
 father ; yet, from some volatile thought, or some 
 quick sense of feeling, which she had not been ac- 
 customed to correct, she was perpetually on the 
 verge of treating him with levity ; but he would on 
 the instant recal her recollection by a reserve too 
 awful, and a gentleness too sacred for her to violate. 
 The distinction which both required was thus, by 
 his skilful management alone, preserved. 
 
 One morning he took an opportunity, before her 
 and Miss Woodley, to introduce and press the sub- 
 ject of Sir Edward Ashton's hopes. He first spoke 
 warmly in his praise ; then plainly said that he be- 
 lieved she possessed the power of making so deserv- 
 ing a man happy to the summit of his wishes. A 
 laugh of ridicule was the only answer ; but a sud- 
 den frown from Dorriforth having silenced her 
 mirth, he resumed his usual politeness, and said, 
 
 " I wish you would show a better taste than thus 
 pointedly to disapprove of Sir Edward."
 
 24 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " How, Mr. Dorriforth, can you expect me to 
 give proofs of a good taste, when Sir Edward, 
 whom you consider with such high esteem, has 
 given so bad an example of his, in approving me?" 
 
 Dorriforth wished not to flatter her by a compli- 
 ment she seemed to have sought for, and for a mo- 
 ment hesitated what answer to make. 
 
 " Reply, sir, to that question," she said. 
 
 " Why then, madam," returned he, " it is my 
 opinion, that supposing what your humility has ad- 
 vanced be just, yet Sir Edward will not suffer by the 
 suggestion; for in cases where the heart is so imme- 
 diately concerned, as I believe Sir Edward's to be, 
 taste, or rather reason, has little power to act." 
 
 " You are in the right, Mr. Dorriforth : this is a 
 proper justification of Sir Edward and when I fall 
 in love, I beg that you will make the same excuse 
 for me." 
 
 " Then," said he, earnestly, " before your heart 
 is in that state which I have described, exert your 
 reason." 
 
 " I shall," answered she, " and assuredly not 
 consent to marry a man whom I could never love." 
 
 " Unless your heart be already disposed of, Miss 
 Milner, what can make you speak with such a de- 
 gree of certainty 1 " 
 
 He thought on Lord Frederick when he uttered 
 this, and he rivetted his eyes upon her as if to 
 penetrate her most secret inclinations, and yet 
 trembling for what he might find there. She blush- 
 ed, and her looks would have confirmed her guilty, 
 if the unembarrassed and free tone of her voice, 
 more than her words, had not preserved her from 
 that sentence. 
 
 " No," she replied, " my heart is not stolen away ; 
 and yet I can venture to declare, that Sir Edward 
 will never possess it." 
 
 " 1 am sorry, for both your sakes, that these are
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 25 
 
 your sentiments," he replied. " But as your heart 
 is still your own," and he seemed rejoiced to find 
 it was, " permit me to warn you how you part with 
 a thing so precious. The dangers, the sorrows you 
 hazard in bestowing it, are greater than you may 
 possibly be aware of. The heart once gone, our 
 thoughts, our actions, are no more our own, than 
 
 that is." He seemed forcing himself to utter . 
 
 all this; and yet he broke off as if he could have said 
 much more, if the extreme delicacy of the subject 
 had not restricted him. 
 
 When he left the room, and she heard the door 
 close after him, she said, with an inquisitive thought- 
 fulness, " What can make good people so skilled in 
 all the weaknesses of the bad ? Mr. Dorriforth, with 
 all those prudent admonitions, appears rather like a 
 man who has passed his life in the gay world, ex- 
 perienced all its dangerous allurements, all its re- 
 pentant sorrows, than like one who has lived his 
 whole time secluded in a monastic college, or in his 
 own study. Then he speaks with such exquisite 
 sensibility on the subject of love, that he commends 
 the very thing which he attempts to depreciate. I 
 do not think my Lord Frederick would make the 
 passion appear in more pleasing colours by painting 
 its delights, than Mr. Dorriforth could in describing 
 its sorrows; and if he talks to me frequently in this 
 manner, I shall certainly take pity on Lord Fre- 
 derick, for the sake of his adversary's eloquence." 
 
 Miss Woodley, who heard the conclusion of this 
 speech with the tenderest concern, cried, " Alas ! 
 you then think seriously of Lord Frederick 1" 
 
 "Suppose I do, wherefore that alas! Miss 
 Woodley ?" 
 
 " Because I fear you will never be happy with 
 him." 
 
 vol. xxvm. D
 
 26 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " That is plainly saying, he will not be happy 
 with me." 
 
 " I do not know : I cannot speak of marriage, 
 from experience," answered Miss Woodley ; " but I 
 think I can guess what it is." 
 
 " Nor can 1 speak of love from experience," 
 replied Miss Milner ; " but I think I can guess what 
 it is." 
 
 " But do not fall in love, my dear," cried Miss 
 Woodley, with her accustomed simplicity of heart, 
 as if she had been asking a favour that depended 
 upon the will of the person entreated ; " pray do 
 not fall in love without the approbation of your 
 guardian." 
 
 Her young friend smiled at the inefficacious 
 prayer but promised to do all she could to oblige 
 her. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Sir Edward, not wholly discouraged by the denial 
 with which Dorriforth had, with delicacy, acquaint- 
 ed him, still hoped for a kind reception : and he was 
 so often at the house of Mrs. Horton, that Lord 
 Frederick's jealousy was excited ; and the tortures 
 he suffered in consequence convinced him, beyond 
 a doubt, of the sincerity of his affection. Every 
 time he beheld the object of his passion, (for he 
 still continued his visits, though not so frequently 
 as heretofore,) he pleaded his cause with such ar- 
 dour, that Miss Woodley, who was sometimes pre- 
 sent, and ever compassionate, could not resist wish- 
 ing him success. He now unequivocally offered 
 marriage, and entreated that he might lay his pro-
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 21 
 
 posals before Mr. Dorriforth; but this was positively 
 forbidden. 
 
 Her reluctance he imputed, however, more to the 
 known partiality of her guardian for the addresses 
 of Sir Edward, than to any motive which depended 
 upon herself: and to Mr. Dorriforth he conceived a 
 greater dislike than ever ; believing that through his 
 interposition, in spite of his ward's attachment, he 
 might yet be deprived of her. But Miss Milner 
 declared, both to him and to her friend, that love 
 had, at present, gained no influence over her mind. 
 Yet did the watchful Miss Woodley, oftentimes 
 hear a sigh escape from her unknown to herself, till 
 she was reminded of it ; and then a crimson blush 
 would instantly overspread her face. This seeming 
 struggle with her passion /endeared her more than 
 ever to Miss Woodley : and she would even risk the 
 displeasure of Dorriforth by her compliance with 
 every new pursuit that might amuse those leisure 
 hours which her friend, she now perceived, passed 
 in heaviness of heart. 
 
 Balls, plays, incessant company, at length roused 
 her guardian from that mildness with which he had 
 been accustomed to treat her. Night after night, 
 his sleep had been disturbed by fears for her when 
 abroad : morning after morning it had been broken 
 by the clamour of her return. He therefore gravely 
 said to her one forenoon as he met her accidentally 
 upon the staircase, 
 
 " I hope, Miss Milner, you pass this evening at 
 home V 
 
 Unprepared for the sudden question, she blushed 
 and replied, " Yes ;" though she knew she was 
 engaged to a brilliant assembly, for which her mil- 
 liner had been consulted a whole week. 
 
 She, however, flattered herself that what she had 
 said might be excused as a mistake, the lapse of 
 D2
 
 28 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 memory, or some other trifling fault, when he should 
 know the truth. The truth was earlier divulged 
 than she expected for just as dinner was removed, 
 her footman delivered a message to her from her 
 milliner concerning a new dress for the evening 
 the present evening particularly marked. Her guar- 
 dian looked astonished ! 
 
 " I thought, Miss Milner, you gave me your word 
 that you would pass this evening at home V 
 
 " I mistook for I had before given my word that 
 I should pass it abroad." 
 
 " Indeed ! " cried he. 
 
 " Yes, indeed ; and I believe it is right that I 
 should keep my first promise : is it not ?" 
 
 " The promise you gave me then, you do not 
 think of any consequence ?" 
 
 " Yes, certainly, if you do." 
 
 " I do." 
 
 " And mean, perhaps, to make it of more conse- 
 quence than it deserves, by being offended." 
 
 " Whether or not I am offended you shall find 
 I am." And he looked so. 
 
 She caught his piercing eyes hers were imme- 
 diately cast down ; and she trembled either with 
 shame or with resentment. 
 
 Mrs. Horton rose from her chair moved the de- 
 canters and fruit round the table stirred the fire 
 and came back to her chair again, before another 
 word was uttered. Nor had this good woman's 
 officious labours taken the least from the awkward- 
 ness of the silence, which, as soon as the bustle she 
 had contrived was over, returned in its full force. 
 
 At last, Miss Milner rising with alacrity, was 
 preparing to go out of the room, when Dorriforth 
 raised his voice, and in a tone of authority said, 
 
 " Miss Milner, you shall not leave the house this 
 evening."
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 29 
 
 " Sir !" she exclaimed with a kind of douht of 
 what she had heard ; a surprise, which fixed her 
 hand on the door she had half opened, but which 
 now she shewed herself irresolute whether to open 
 wide in defiance, or to shut submissively. Before 
 she could resolve, he rose from his chair, and said, 
 with a force and warmth she had never heard him 
 use before, 
 
 " I command you to stay at home this evening." 
 And he walked immediately out of the apartment by 
 another door. 
 
 Her hand fell motionless from that which she held 
 she appeared motionless herself till Mrs. Hor- 
 ton, " beseeching her not to be uneasy at the treat- 
 ment she had received," made her tears flow as if 
 her heart was breaking. 
 
 Miss Woodley would have said something to 
 comfort her ; but she had caught the infection, and 
 could not utter a word. It was not from any real 
 cause of grief that Miss Woodley wept ; but there 
 was a magnetic quality in tears, which always at- 
 tracted hers. 
 
 Mrs. Horton secretly enjoyed this scene, though 
 the well-meaning of her heart, and the ease of her 
 conscience, did not suffer her to think so. She, 
 however, declared she had " long prognosticated it 
 would come to this ;" and she " only thanked Heaven 
 it was no worse." 
 
 " What can be worse, madam? " cried Miss Mil- 
 ner. " Am not I disappointed of the ball ? " 
 
 " You don't mean to go then?" said Mrs. Hor- 
 ton. " I commend your prudence ; and I dare say 
 it is more than your guardian gives you credit for." 
 
 " Do you think I would go," answered Miss Mil- 
 ner, with an eagerness that for a time suppressed her 
 tears, " in contradiction to his will 1 " 
 
 " It is not the first time, I believe, you have acted 
 D 3
 
 30 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 contrary to that, Miss Milner," replied Mrs. Hor- 
 ton, and affected a tenderness of voice to soften the 
 harshness of her words. 
 
 " If you think so, madam, I see nothing that 
 should prevent me now." And she went eagerly 
 out of the room as if she had resolved to disobey him. 
 This alarmed poor Miss Woodley. 
 
 " My dear aunt," she cried to Mrs. Horton, " fol- 
 low and prevail upon Miss Milner to give up her 
 design : she means to be at the ball, in opposition to 
 her guardian's will." 
 
 " Then," said Mrs. Horton, " I'll not be instru- 
 mental in deterring her. If she does go, it may be 
 for the best : it may give Mr. Dorri forth a clearer 
 knowledge, what means are proper to convert her 
 from evil." 
 
 " But, my dear madam, she must be preserved 
 from the evil of disobedience ; and as you tempted, 
 you will be the most likely to dissuade her. But if 
 you will not, I must endeavour." 
 
 Miss Woodley was leaving the room to perform 
 this good work, when Mrs. Horton, in imitation of 
 the example given her by Dorriforth, cried, 
 
 *' Niece, I command you not to stir out of this 
 room this evening." 
 
 Miss Woodley obediently sat down : and though 
 her thoughts and heart were in the chamber of her 
 friend, she never marked by one impertinent word, 
 or by one line of her face, the restraint she suffered. 
 
 At the usual hour, Mr. Dorriforth and his ward 
 were summoned to tea. He entered with a coun- 
 tenance which evinced the remains of anger : his 
 eye gave testimony of his absent thoughts ; and 
 though he took up a pamphlet affecting to read, it 
 was plain to discern that he scarcely knew he held it 
 in his hand. 
 
 Mrs. Horton began to make tea with a mind as
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 31 
 
 intent upon something else as Dorriforth's. She 
 longed for the event of this misunderstanding : and 
 though she wished no ill to Miss Milner, yet with an 
 inclination bent upon seeing something new with- 
 out the fatigue of going out of her own house she 
 was not over scrupulous what that novelty might be. 
 But for fear she should have the imprudence to 
 speak a word upon the subject which employed her 
 thoughts, or even to look as if she thought of it at 
 all, she pinched her lips close together, and cast her 
 eyes on vacancy, lest their significant regards might 
 expose her to detection. And for fear that any 
 noise should intercept even the sound of what might 
 happen, she walked across the room more softly than 
 usual, and more softly touched every thing she was 
 obliged to lay her hand on. 
 
 Miss Woodley thought it her duty to be mute ; 
 and now the gingle of a tea-spoon was like a deep- 
 toned bell, all was so quiet. 
 
 Mrs. Horton, too, in the self-approving reflection 
 tba.t she was not in a quarrel or altercation of any 
 kind, felt herself at this moment remarkably peace- 
 ful and charitable. Miss Woodley did not recollect 
 herself so, but was so in reality. In her, peace and 
 charity were instinctive virtues : accident could not 
 increase them. 
 
 The tea had scarcely been made, when a servant 
 came with Miss Milner's compliments, and she " did 
 not mean to have any tea." The pamphlet shook 
 in Dorriforth's hand while this message was de- 
 livered. He believed her to be dressing for her 
 evening's entertainment ; and now studied in what 
 manner he should prevent or resent her disobedi- 
 ence to his commands. He coughed drank his tea 
 endeavoured to talk, but found it difficult some- 
 times he read ; and in this manner near two hours 
 were passed away, when Miss Milner came into the
 
 32 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 room not dressed for a ball, but as she had 
 risen from dinner. Dorriforth read on, and seemed 
 afraid of looking up, lest he should see what he 
 could not have pardoned. She drew a chair and sat 
 at the table by the side of her delighted friend. 
 
 After a few minutes' pause, and some little em- 
 barrassment on the part of Mrs Horton, at the 
 disappointment she had to encounter from this un- 
 expected dutiful conduct, she asked Miss Milner, 
 " if she would now have any tea?" She replied, 
 " No, I thank you, ma'am," in a voice so languid, 
 compared with her usual one, that Dorriforth lifted 
 up his eyes from the book ; and seeing her in the 
 same dress that she had worn all the day, turned 
 them hastily away from her again not with a look 
 of triumph, but of confusion. 
 
 Whatever he might have suffered if he had seen 
 Miss Milner decorated, and prepared to bid defiance 
 to his commands ; yet even upon that trial, he 
 would not have endured half the painful sensations 
 he now for a moment felt he felt himself to blame. 
 
 He feared that he had treated her with too much 
 severity he admired her condescension, accused 
 himself for having exacted it he longed to ask her 
 pardon he did not know how. 
 
 A cheerful reply from her, to a question of Miss 
 Woodley's, embarrassed him still more. He wished 
 that she had been sullen : he then would have had a 
 temptation, or pretence, to have heen sullen too. 
 
 With all these sentiments crowding fast upon his 
 heart, he still read, or seemed to read, as if he took 
 no notice of what was passing ; till a servant came 
 into the room and asked Miss Milner at what time 
 she should want the carriage : to which she replied, 
 " / don't go out to-night." Dorriforth then laid 
 the book out of his hand, and, by the time the ser- 
 vant had left the room, thus began :
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. S3 
 
 " Miss Milner, I give you, I fear, some unkind 
 proofs of my regard. It is often the ungrateful task 
 of a friend to be troublesome sometimes unman- 
 nerly. Forgive the duties of my office, and believe 
 that no one is half so much concerned if it robs you 
 of any degree of happiness, as I myself am." 
 
 What he said, he looked with so much sincerity, 
 that had she been burning with rage at his late be- 
 haviour, she must have forgiven him, for the regret 
 which he so forcibly exprest. She was going to re- 
 ply, but found she could not, without accompanying 
 her words with tears : therefore, after the first at- 
 tempt, she desisted. 
 
 On this he rose from his chair, and going to her, 
 said, " Once more shew your submission by obeying 
 me a second time to-day. Keep your appointment : 
 and be assured that I shall issue my commands with 
 more circumspection for the future, as I find how 
 strictly they are complied with." 
 
 Miss Milner, the gay, the vain, the dissipated, 
 the haughty Miss Milner, sunk underneath this 
 kindness, and wept with a gentleness and patience, 
 which did not give more surprise than it gave joy to 
 Dorriforth. He was charmed to find her disposi- 
 tion so tractable prophesied to himself the future 
 success of his guardianship, and her eternal as well 
 as temporal happiness from this specimen of com- 
 pliance. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Although Dorriforth was the good man that he 
 has been described, there were in his nature shades 
 of evil. There was an obstinacy, which himself and 
 hii friends termed firmness of mind ; but which, had
 
 34 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 not religion and some contrary virtues weighed hea- 
 vily in the balance, would have frequently degene- 
 rated into implacable stubbornness. 
 
 The child of a sister once beloved, who married 
 a young officer against her brother's consent, was at 
 the age of three years left an orphan, destitute of 
 all support but from his uncle's generosity : but 
 though Dorriforth maintained, he would never see 
 him. Miss Milner, whose heart was a receptacle 
 for the unfortunate, no sooner was told the melan- 
 choly history of Mr. and Mrs. Rushbrook, the pa- 
 rents of the child, than she longed to behold the 
 innocent inheritor of her guardian's resentment, and 
 took Miss Wood ley with her to see the boy. He 
 was at a farm house a few miles from town : and his 
 extreme beauty and engaging manners wanted not 
 the sorrows to which he had been born, to give him 
 farther recommendation to the kindness of her who 
 had come to visit him. She looked at him with ad- 
 miration and pity, and having endeared herself to 
 him by the most affectionate words and caresses, 
 on her bidding him farewel, he cried most piteously 
 to go along with her. Unused at any time to resist 
 temptations, whether to reprehensible or to lauda- 
 ble actions, she yielded to his supplications ; and 
 having overcome a few scruples of Miss Woodley's, 
 determined to take young Rushbrook to town, and 
 present him to his uncle. This design was no sooner 
 formed than executed. By making a present to the 
 nurse, she readily gained her consent to part with 
 him for a day or two ; and the excess of joy denoted 
 by the child on being placed in the carriage, repaid 
 her before hand for every reproof she might receive 
 from her guardian, for the liberty she had taken. 
 
 " Besides," said she to Miss Woodley, who had 
 still her fears, " do you not wish his uncle should 
 have a warmer interest in his care than duty ? It is
 
 A StMPLE STORY. 35 
 
 duty alone which induces Mr. Dorriforth to provide 
 for him ; but it is proper that affection should have 
 some share in his benevolence ; and how, when he 
 grows older, will he be so fit an object of the love 
 which compassion excites, as he is at present ? " 
 
 Miss Woodley acquiesced. But before they ar- 
 rived at their own door it came into Miss Milner's 
 remembrance, that there was a grave sternness in 
 the manners of her guardian when provoked ; the 
 recollection of which made her a little apprehensive 
 for what she had done. Her friend, who knew him 
 better than she did, was more so. They both be- 
 came silent as they approached the street where 
 they lived ; for Miss Woodley having once repre- 
 sented her fears, and having suppressed them in re- 
 signation to Miss Milner's better judgment, would 
 not repeat them and Miss Milner would not con- 
 fess that they were now troubling of her. 
 
 Just, however, $s the coach stopped at their home 
 she had the forecast and the humility to say, " We 
 will not tell Mr. Dorriforth the child is his nephew, 
 unless he should appear fond, and pleased with 
 him, and then I think we may venture without any 
 danger." 
 
 This was agreed ; and when Dorriforth entered 
 the room just before dinner, poor Harry Rushbook 
 was introduced as the son of a lady who frequently 
 visited there. The deception passed : his uncle 
 shookhands with him; and at length, highly pleased 
 with his engaging manner and applicable replies, 
 took him on his knee, and caressed him with affection. 
 Miss Milner could scarcely restrain the joy it gave 
 her ; but unluckily, Dorriforth said soon after to the 
 child, " And now tell me your name." 
 
 " Harry Rushbrook," replied he, with force and 
 clearness of voice. 
 
 Dorriforth was holding him fondly round the waist
 
 36 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 as he stood with his feet upon his kness ; and at this 
 reply he did not throw him from him but he re- 
 moved his hands, which had supported him, so sud- 
 denly, that the child, to prevent falling on the floor, 
 threw himself about his uncle's neck. Miss Milner 
 and Miss Woodley turned aside to conceal their 
 tears. " I had like to have been down," cried 
 Harry, fearing no other danger. But his uncle took 
 hold of each hand which had twined around him, 
 and placed him immediately on the ground. The 
 dinner being that instant served, he gave no greater 
 marks of his resentment than calling for his hat, and 
 walking instantly out of the house. 
 
 Miss Milner cried for anger ; yet she did not shew 
 less kindness to the object of this vexatious circum- 
 stance : she held him in her arms while she sat at 
 table, and repeatedly said to him (though he had 
 not the sense to thank her), " That she would al- 
 ways be his friend." 
 
 The first emotions of resentment against Dorri- 
 forth being passed, she returned with her little 
 charge to the farm house, before it was likely his 
 uncle should come back ; another instance of obe- 
 dience, which Miss Woodley was impatient her 
 guardian should know. She therefore inquired where 
 he was gone, and sent him a note for the sole pur- 
 pose of acquainting him with it, offering at the same 
 time an apology for what had happened. He re- 
 turned in the evening seemingly reconciled ; nor 
 was a word mentioned of the incident which had 
 occurred in the former part of the day : still in his 
 countenance remained the evidence of a perfect re- 
 collection of it, without one trait of compassion for 
 his helpless nephew.
 
 A SIMPE STORY. 37 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 There are few things so mortifying- to a proud 
 spirit as to suffer by immediate comparison : men 
 can hardly bear it, but to women the punishment is 
 intolerable ; and Miss Milner now laboured under 
 this humiliation to a degree which gave her no 
 small inquietude. 
 
 Miss Fenton, young, of exquisite beauty, elegant 
 manners, gentle disposition, and discreet conduct, 
 was introduced to Miss Milner's acquaintance by 
 her guardian, and frequently, sometimes inadvert- 
 ently, held up by him as a pattern for her to follow: 
 for when he did not say this in direct terms, it was 
 insinuated by the warmth of his panegyric on those 
 virtues in which Miss Fenton excelled, and in which 
 his ward was obviously deficient. Conscious of her 
 own inferiority in these subjects of her guardian's 
 praise, Miss Milner, instead of being inspired to 
 emulation, was provoked to envy. 
 
 Not to admire Miss Fenton was impossible to 
 find one fault with her person or sentiments was 
 equally impossible and yet to love her was un- 
 likely. 
 
 That serenity of mind which kept her features in 
 a continual placid form, though enchanting at the 
 first glance, upon a second or third fatigued the 
 sight for want of variety ; and to have seen her dis- 
 torted with rage, convulsed with mirth, or in deep 
 dejection, had been to her advantage. But her 
 superior soul appeared above those emotions, and 
 there was more inducement to worship her as a saint 
 than to love her as a woman. Yet Dorriforth, whose 
 heart was not formed (at least not educated) for 
 love, regarding her in the light of friendship only, 
 beheld her as the most perfect model for her sex. 
 
 vol. xxvm. E 
 
 44G32
 
 .38 A, SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 Lord Frederick on first seeing her was struck with 
 her beauty, and Miss Milner apprehended she had 
 introduced a rival ; but he had not seen her three 
 times, before he called her " the most insufferable 
 of Heaven's creatures," and vowed there was more 
 charming variation in the plain features of Miss 
 Woodley. 
 
 Miss Milner had a heart affectionate to her own 
 sex, even where she saw them in possession of supe- 
 rior charms ; but whether from the spirit of contra- 
 diction, from feeling herself more than ordinarily 
 offended by her guardian's praise of this lady, or 
 that there was a reserve in Miss Fenton that did not 
 accord with her own frank and ingenuous disposi- 
 tion, so as to engage her esteem, certain it is that 
 she took infinite satisfaction in hearing her beauty 
 and virtues depreciated or turned into ridicule, par- 
 ticularly if Mr. Dorriforth was present. This was 
 painful to him on many accounts ; perhaps an anxiety 
 for his ward's conduct was not among the least ; and 
 whenever the circumstance occurred, he could with 
 difficulty restrain his anger. Miss Fenton was not 
 only a person whose amiable qualities he admired ; 
 but she was soon to be allied to him by her marriage 
 with his nearest relation, Lord Elmwood a young 
 nobleman whom he sincerely loved. 
 
 Lord Elmwood had discovered all that beauty in 
 Miss Fenton which every common observer could 
 not but see. The charms of her mind and of her 
 fortune had been pointed out by his tutor ; and the 
 utility of the marriage, in perfect submission to his 
 precepts, he never permitted himself to question. 
 
 This preceptor held with a magisterial power the 
 government of his pupil's passions ; nay, governed 
 them so entirely, that no one could perceive (nor 
 did the young lord himself know) that he had any. 
 
 This rigid monitor and friend was a Mr. Sand ford.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 39 
 
 bred a Jesuit in the same college at which Dorri- 
 tbrth had since been educated; but previous to his 
 education the order had been compelled to take 
 another name. Sandford had been the tutor of 
 Dorriforth as well as of his cousin, Lord Elmwood, 
 and by this double tie he seemed now entailed upon 
 the family. As a Jesuit, he was consequently a man 
 of learning ; possessed of steadiness to accomplish 
 the end of any design once meditated, and of saga- 
 city to direct the views of men more powerful, but 
 less ingenious, than himself. The young earl, ac- 
 customed in his infancy to fear him as his master, 
 in his youthful manhood received every new indul- 
 gence with gratitude, and at length loved him as a 
 father : nor had Dorriforth as yet shaken off simi- 
 lar sensations. 
 
 Mr. Sandford perfectly knew how to influence the 
 sentiments and sensations of all human kind, but 
 yet he had the forbearance not to " draw all hearts 
 towards him." There were some, whose hatred he 
 thought not unworthy of his pious labours to ex- 
 cite ; and in that pursuit he was more rapid in his 
 success than even in procuring esteem. It was an 
 enterprise in which he succeeded with Miss Milner 
 even beyond his most sanguine wish. 
 
 She had been educated at an English boarding- 
 school, and had no idea of the superior and subor- 
 dinate state of characters in a foreign seminary: 
 besides, as a woman, she was privileged to say any 
 thing she pleased ; and as a beautiful woman, she 
 had a right to expect that whatever she pleased to 
 say should be admired. 
 
 Sandford knew the hearts of women, as well as 
 those of men, though he had passed but little of his 
 time in their society. He saw Miss Milner's heart 
 at the first sight of her person ; and beholding in 
 that small circumference a weight of folly that he 
 K2
 
 40 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 wished to eradicate, he began to toil in the vineyard, 
 eagerly courting her detestation of him, in the hope 
 he could also make her abominate herself. In the 
 mortifications of slight he was expert ; and being a 
 man of talents, whom all companies, especially those 
 of her friends, respected, he did not begin by wast- 
 ing that reverence he so highly valued upon ineffec- 
 tual remonstrances, of which he could foresee the 
 reception, but wakened her attention by his neglect 
 of her. He spoke of her in her presence as of an 
 indifferent person ; sometimes forgetting even to 
 name her when the subject required it ; then would 
 ask her pardon, and say that he " really did not 
 recollect her," with such seeming sorrow for his 
 fault, that she could not suppose the offence intend- 
 ed, and of course felt the affront more acutely. 
 
 While, with every other person she was the prin- 
 ciple, the cause, upon whom a whole party depended 
 for conversation, cards, music, or dancing, with Mr. 
 Sandford she found that she was of no importance. 
 Sometimes she tried to consider this disregard of 
 her as merely the effect of ill-breeding ; but he was 
 not an ill-bred man : he was a gentleman by birth, 
 and one who had kept the best company a man of 
 sense and learning. " And such a man slights me 
 without knowing it," she said ; for she had not 
 dived so deeply into the powers of simulation, as to 
 suspect that such careless manners were the result 
 of art. 
 
 This behaviour of Mr. Sandford had its desired 
 effect : it humbled her in her own opinion more 
 than a thousand sermons would have done, preached 
 on the vanity of youth and beauty. She felt an in- 
 ward shame at the insignificance of these qualities 
 that she never knew before ; and would have been 
 cured of all her pride, had she not possessed a de- 
 gree of spirit beyond the generality of her sex ;
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 41 
 
 such a degree as even Mr. Sandford, with all his 
 penetration, did not expect to rind. She determined 
 to resent his treatment ; and, entering the lists as 
 his declared enemy, give to the world a reason why 
 he did not acknowledge her sovereignty, as well as 
 the rest of her devoted subjects. 
 
 She now commenced hostilities against all his 
 arguments, his learning, and his favourite axioms ; 
 and by a happy talent of ridicule, in want of other 
 weapons for this warfare, she threw in the way of 
 the holy father as great trials of his patience as any 
 that his order could have substituted in penance. 
 Many things he bore like a martyr at others, his 
 fortitude would forsake him, and he would call on 
 her guardian, his former pupil, to interpose with his 
 authority : she would then declare that she only had 
 acted thus " to try the good man's temper, and that 
 if he had combated with his fretfulness a few mo- 
 ments longer, she would have acknowledged his 
 claim to canonization ; but that, having yielded to 
 the sallies of his anger, he must now go through 
 numerous other probations." 
 
 If Miss Fenton was admired by Dorriforth, by 
 Sandford she was adored ; and, instead of placing 
 her as an example to Miss Milner, he spoke of her 
 as of one endowed beyond Miss Milner's power of 
 imitation. Often, with a shake of his head and a 
 sigh, would he say, 
 
 " No : I am not so hard upon you as your guar- 
 dian : I only desire you to love Miss Fenton ; to re- 
 semble her, I believe, is above your ability." 
 
 This was too much to bear composedly and poor 
 Miss Woodley, who was generally a witness of these 
 controversies, felt a degree of sorrow at every sen- 
 tence which, like the foregoing, chagrined and dis- 
 tressed her friend. Yet as she suffered too for Mr. 
 Sandford, the jov of her friend's reply wns mostly 
 K :j
 
 42 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 abated by the uneasiness it gave to him. But Mrs. 
 Horton felt for none but the right reverend priest ; 
 and often did she feel so violently interested in his 
 cause, that she could not refrain giving an answer 
 herself in his behalf thus doing the duty of an ad- 
 versary with all the zeal of an advocate. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Mr. Sandford finding his friend Dorriforth frequent- 
 ly perplexed in the management of his ward, and 
 he himself thinking her incorrigible, gave his coun- 
 sel, that a suitable match should be immediately 
 sought out for her, and the care of so dangerous a 
 person given into other hands. Dorriforth acknow- 
 ledged the propriety of this advice, but lamented 
 the difficulty of pleasing his ward as to the quality 
 of her lover ; for she had refused, besides Sir Ed- 
 ward Ashton, many others of equal pretensions. 
 " Depend upon it then," cried Sandford, " that her 
 affections are engaged ; and it is proper that you 
 should know to whom." Dorriforth thought he did 
 know, and mentioned Lord Frederick ; but said that 
 he had no farther authority for the supposition than 
 what his observation had given him, for that every 
 explanation both upon his and her side had been 
 evaded. " Take her then," cried Sandford, " into 
 the country ; and if Lord Frederick should not fol- 
 low, there is an end of your suspicions." " I shall 
 not easily prevail upon Miss Milner to leave town," 
 replied he, " while it is in the highest fashion." 
 " You can but try," returned Sandford; " and if 
 you should not succeed now, at least fix the time 
 you mean to go during the autumn, and be firm to 
 your determination." " But in the autumn," replied
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 43 
 
 Dorriforth, " Lord Frederick will of course be in 
 the country ; and as his uncle's estate is near our 
 residence, he will not then so evidently follow her, 
 as he would if I could induce her to go immedi- 
 ately." 
 
 It was agreed the attempt should be made. In- 
 stead of receiving this abrupt proposal with uneasi- 
 ness, Miss Milner, to the surprise of all present, 
 immediately consented, and gave her guardian an 
 opportunity of saying several of the kindest and 
 politest things upon her ready compliance. 
 
 " A token of approbation from you, Mr. Dorri- 
 forth," returned she, " I always considered with 
 high estimation : but your commendations are now 
 become infinitely superior in value by their scarcity ; 
 for I do not believe that since Miss Fenton and Mr. 
 Sandford came to town, I have received one testi- 
 mony of your esteem." 
 
 Had these words been tittered with pleasantry, 
 they might have passed without observation ; but at 
 the conclusion of the period, resentment flew to Miss 
 Milner's face, and she darted a piercing look at Mr. 
 Sandford, which more pointedly expressed that she 
 was angry with him, than if she had spoken volumes 
 in her usual strain of raillery. Dorriforth was con- 
 fused ; but the concern which she had so plainly 
 evinced for his good opinion throughout all that she 
 had been saying, silenced any rebuke he might else 
 have given her, for this unwarrantable charge against 
 his friend. Mrs. Horton was shocked at the irreve- 
 rent manner in which Mr. Sandford was treated: 
 and Miss Woodley turned to him with a benevolent 
 smile upon her face, hoping to set him an example 
 of the manner in which he should receive the re- 
 proach. Her good wishes did not succeed ; yet he 
 was perfectly unruffled, and replied with coolness,
 
 44 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " The air of the country has affected the lady 
 already : hut it is a comfortable thing-," continued 
 he, " that in the variety of humours to which some 
 women are exposed, they cannot be uniform even in 
 deceit." 
 
 " Deceit!" cried Miss Milner: " In what am 1 
 deceitful ? Did I ever pretend that I had an esteem 
 for you ? " 
 
 " That would not have been deceit, madam, but 
 merely good manners." 
 
 " I never, Mr. Sand ford, sacrificed truth to po- 
 liteness." 
 
 " Except when the country has been proposed, 
 and you thought it politeness to appear satisfied." 
 
 " And I was satisfied, till I recollected that you 
 might probably be of the party. Then every grove 
 was changed into a wilderness, every rivulet into a 
 stagnated pool, and every singing bird into a croak- 
 ing raven." 
 
 " A very poetical description ! " returned he calm- 
 ly. " But, Miss Milner, you need not have had any 
 apprehensions of my company in the country ; for I 
 understand the seat to which your guardian means 
 to go, belongs to you ; and you may depend upon 
 it, madam, that I will never enter a house in which 
 you are the mistress/' 
 
 " Nor any house, I am certain, Mr. Sandford, 
 but in which you are yourself the master." 
 
 " What do you mean, madam ? (and for the first 
 time he elevated his voice) : am I the master here V 
 
 " Your servants," replied she, looking at the com- 
 pany, " will not tell you so ; but I do." 
 
 " You condescend, Mr. Sandford," cried Mrs. 
 Horton, " in talking so much to a young heedless 
 woman ; but I know you do it for her good." 
 
 " Well, Miss Milner," cried Dorriforth, (and the
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 45 
 
 most cutting thing he could say), " since I find my 
 proposal of the country has put you out of humour, 
 1 shall mention it no more." 
 
 With all that quantity of resentment, anger, or 
 rage, which sometimes boiled in the veins of Miss 
 Milner, she was yet never wanting in that respect 
 towards her guardian which withheld her from ever 
 uttering one angry sentence directed immediately 
 to him ; and a severe word of his, instead of exas- 
 perating, was sure to subdue her. This was the case 
 at present: his words wounded her to the heart, but 
 she had not the asperity to reply to them as she 
 thought they merited, and she burst into tears. 
 Dorriforth, instead of being concerned, as he usually 
 was at seeing her uneasy, appeared on the present 
 occasion provoked. He thought her weeping was a 
 new reproach to his friend Mr. Sandford, and that 
 to suffer himself to be moved by it would be a tacit 
 condemnation of his friend's conduct. She under- 
 stood his thoughts, and getting the better of her 
 tears, apologized for her weakness ; adding, 
 
 " She could never bear with indifference an un- 
 just accusation." 
 
 " To prove that mine was unjust, madam," re- 
 plied Dorriforth, " be prepared to quit London, 
 without any marks of regret, within a few days." 
 
 She bowed assent ; the- necessary preparations 
 were agreed upon; and while with apparent satisfac- 
 tion she adjusted the plan of her journey (like those 
 who behave well, not so much to please themselves 
 as to vex their enemies), she secretly triumphed in 
 the mortification she hoped that Mr. Sandford would 
 receive from her obedient behaviour. 
 
 The news of this intended journey was of course 
 soon made public. There is a secret charm in be- 
 ing pitied, when the misfortune is but ideal ; and 
 Miss Milner found infinite gratification in being told,
 
 46 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " that hers was a cruel case, and that it was un- 
 just and barbarous to force so much beauty into 
 concealment while London was rilled with her ad- 
 mirers, who, like her, would languish in conse- 
 quence of her solitude." These things, and a 
 thousand such, a thousand times repeated, she still 
 listened to with pleasure ; yet preserved the con- 
 stancy, not to shrink from her resolution of submit- 
 ting. 
 
 Those involuntary sighs, however, that Miss 
 Woodley had long ago observed, became still more 
 frequent ; and a tear half starting in her eye was 
 an additional subject of her friend's observation. 
 Yet though Miss Milner at those times was softened 
 into melancholy, she by no means appeared unhappy. 
 Her friend was acquainted with love only by name ; 
 yet she was confirmed from these increased symp- 
 toms, in what she before only suspected, that love 
 must be the foundation of her care. " Her senses 
 have been captivated by the person and accomplish- 
 ments of Lord Frederick," said Miss Woodley to 
 herself; " but her understanding compels her to see 
 his faults, and reproaches her passion. And, oh !" 
 cried she, " could her guardian and Mr. Sandford 
 but know of this conflict, how much would they 
 have to admire ; how little to condemn !" 
 
 With such friendly thoughts, and with the purest 
 intentions, Miss Woodley did not fail to give both 
 gentlemen reason to believe a contention of this 
 nature was the actual state of Miss Milner's mind. 
 Dorriforth was affected at the description, and 
 Sandford urged more than ever the necessity of 
 leaving town. In a few days they departed : Mrs. 
 Horton, Miss W r oodley, Miss Milner, and Mr. Dor- 
 riforth, accompanied by Miss Fenton, whom Miss 
 Milner, knowing it to be the wish of her guardian, 
 invited, for three months before her marriage, to her
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 47 
 
 country seat. Elmwood House, or rather Castle, the 
 seat of Lord Ehnwood, was only a few miles distant 
 from this residence, and he was expected to pass 
 great part of the summer there, with his tutor, Mr. 
 Sandford. 
 
 In the neighbourhood was also (as it has been 
 already said) an estate belonging to an uncle of 
 Lord Frederick's ; and most of the party suspected 
 they should soon see him on a visit there. To that 
 expectation they in great measure attributed Miss 
 Milner's visihle content. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 With this party Miss Milner arrived at her country 
 house ; and for near six weeks, all around was the 
 picture of tranquillity. Her satisfaction was as 
 evident as every other person's ; and all severe ad- 
 monition being at this time unnecessary, either to 
 exhort her to her duty or to warn her against her 
 folly, she was even in perfect good humour with 
 Miss Fenton, and added friendship to hospitality. 
 
 Mr. Sandford, who came with Lord Elmwood to 
 the neighbouring seat, about a week after the ar- 
 rival of Miss Milner at hers, was so scrupulously 
 exact in the observance of his word, " never to enter 
 a house of Miss Milner's," that he would not even 
 call upon his friend Dorriforth there : but in their 
 walks, and at Lord Elmwood's, the two parties, re- 
 siding at the two houses, would occasionally join, 
 and of course Sandford and she at those times met ; 
 yet so distant was the reserve on either side, that 
 not a single word upon any occasion was ever ex- 
 changed between them. 
 
 Miss Milner did not like Mr. Sandford ; yet, as
 
 48 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 there was no cause of inveterate rancour, admiring 
 him, too, as a man who meant well, and her being 
 besides of a most forgiving temper, she frequently 
 felt concerned that he did not speak to her, although 
 it had been to find fault as usual: and one morning, 
 as they were all, after a long ramble, drawing to- 
 wards her house, where Lord Elmwood was invited 
 to dine, she could not refrain from dropping a tear 
 at seeing Sandford turn back and wish them a 
 " Good day." 
 
 But though she had the generosity to forgive an 
 affront, she had not the humility to make a conces- 
 sion : and she foresaw that nothing less than some 
 very humble atonement on her part would prevail 
 upon the haughty priest to be reconciled. Dorri- 
 forth saw her concern upon this last trifling occasion 
 with a secret pleasure, and an admiration that she 
 had never before excited. She once insinuated to 
 him to be a mediator between them ; but before any 
 accommodation could take place, the peace and 
 composure of their abode were disturbed by the 
 arrival of Sir Edward Ashton at Lord Elmwood's, 
 where it appeared as if he had been invited in order 
 to pursue his matrimonial plan. 
 
 At a dinner given by Lord Elmwood, Sir Edward 
 was announced as an unexpected visitor. Miss Mil- 
 ner did not suppose him such ; and she turned pale 
 when his name was uttered. Dorriforth fixed his 
 eyes upon her with some tokens of compassion, 
 while Sandford seemed to exult; and, by his repeated 
 " welcomes" to the baronet, gave proofs how much 
 he was rejoiced to see him. All the declining en- 
 mity of Miss Milner was renewed at this behaviour; 
 and suspecting Sandford as the instigator of the 
 visit, she could not overcome her displeasure, but 
 gave way to it in a manner which she thought the 
 most mortifying. Sir Edward, in the course of
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 49 
 
 conversation, inquired " What neighbours were in 
 the country ;" and she, with an appearance of high 
 satisfaction named Lord Frederick Lawnley as being 
 hourly expected at his uncle's. The colour spread 
 over Sir Edward's face Dorriforth was confounded 
 and Mr. Sandford looked enraged. 
 
 " Did Lord Frederick tell you he should be down?" 
 Sandford asked of Dorrifoath. 
 
 To which he replied, " No." 
 
 " But I hope, Mr. Sandford, you will permit me 
 to know V said Miss Milner. For as she now 
 meant to torment him by what she said, she no 
 longer constrained herself to silence ; and as he 
 harboured the same kind intention towards her, he 
 had no longer any objection to make a reply, and 
 therefore answered, 
 
 " No, madam, if it depended upon my permission 
 you should not know." 
 
 " Not any thing, Sir, I dare say. You would 
 keep me in utter ignorance." 
 
 " I would." 
 
 " From a self-interested motive, Mr. Sandford 
 that 1 might have a greater respect for you." 
 
 Some of the company laughed Mrs. Horton 
 coughed Miss Woodley blushed Lord Elmwood 
 sneered Dorriforth frowned and Miss Fenton 
 looked just as she did before. 
 
 The conversation was changed as soon as possible; 
 and early in the evening the party from Milner Lodge 
 returned home. 
 
 Miss Milner had scarcely left her dressing-room, 
 where she had been taking off some part of her 
 dress, when Dorriforth's servant came to acquaint 
 her that his master was alone in his study, and beg- 
 ged to speak with her. She felt herself tremble : 
 she immediately experienced a consciousness that 
 she had not acted properly at Lord Elniwood's ; for 
 
 vol. xxviu. F
 
 50 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 she felt a presentiment that her guardian was going 
 to upbraid her, and her heart whispered that he had 
 never yet reproached her without a cause. 
 
 Miss Woodleyjust then entered her apartment, 
 and she found herself so much a coward, as to pro- 
 pose that she should go with her, and aid her with 
 a word or two occasionally in her excuse. 
 
 " What ! you, my dear," returned Miss Woodley, 
 " who not three hours ago had the courage to vin- 
 dicate your own cause before a whole company, of 
 whom many were your adversaries ; do you want an 
 advocate before your guardian alone, who has ever 
 treated you with tenderness ! " 
 
 " It is that very tenderness which frightens me : 
 which intimidates, and strikes me dumb. Is it pos- 
 sible I can return impertinence to the language and 
 manners which Mr. Dorriforth uses 1 And as I am 
 debarred from that resource, what can I do but 
 stand before him like a guilty creature, acknowledg- 
 ing my faults ? " 
 
 She again entreated her friend to go with her : 
 but on a positive refusal, from the impropriety of 
 such an intrusion, she was obliged at length to go 
 by herself. 
 
 How much does the difference of exterior cir- 
 cumstances influence not only the manners, but 
 even the persons of some people ! Miss Milner in 
 Lord Elmwood's drawing-room, surrounded by lis- 
 teners, by admirers, (for even her enemies could 
 not look at her without admiration), animated with 
 approbation and applause and Miss Milner, with 
 no giddy observer to give her actions a false eclat 
 destitute of all but her own understanding, (which 
 secretly condemns her) upon the point of receiving 
 censure from her guardian and friend, are two dif- 
 ferent beings. Though still beautiful beyond de- 
 scription, she does not look even in person the same.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 51 
 
 In the last mentioned situation, she was shorter 
 in stature than in the former she was paler she 
 was thinner and a very different contour presided 
 over her whole air, and all her features. 
 
 When she arrived at the door of the study, she 
 opened it with a trepidation she could hardly ac- 
 count for, and entered to Dorriforth the altered 
 woman she has been represented. His heart had 
 taken the most decided part against her, and his 
 face had assumed the most severe aspect of reproach; 
 but her appearance gave an instantaneous change to 
 his whole mind and countenance. 
 
 She halted, as if she feared to approach he 
 hesitated, as if he knew not how to speak. Instead 
 of the anger with which he was prepared to begin, 
 his voice involuntarily softened, and without know- 
 ing what he said, he began, 
 
 " My dear Miss Milner " 
 
 She expected he was angry, and in her confusion 
 his gentleness was lost upon her. She imagined 
 that what he said might be censure, and she con- 
 tinued to tremble, though he repeatedly assured her, 
 that he meant only to advise, not to upbraid her. 
 
 " For as to all those little disputes between Mr. 
 Sandford and you," said he, " I should be partial if 
 I blamed you more than [him. Indeed, when you 
 take the liberty to condemn him, his character makes 
 the freedom appear in a more serious light than 
 when he complains of you ; and yet, if he provokes 
 your retorts, he alone must answer for them : nor 
 will I undertake to decide betwixt you. But I 
 have a question to ask you, and to which I require a 
 serious and unequivocal answer : Do you expect 
 Lord Frederick in the country V 
 
 Without hesitation she replied, " I do." 
 
 " One more question I have to ask, madam, and 
 to which I expect a reply equally unreserved : Is 
 F-2
 
 52 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 Lord Frederick the man you approve for your hus- 
 band r 
 
 Upon this close interrogation she discovered an 
 embarrassment, beyond any she had ever yet be- 
 trayed, and faintly replied, 
 
 " No, he is not." 
 
 " Your words tell me one thing," answered Dor- 
 riforth, " but. your looks declare another : which 
 am I to believe V 
 
 " Which you please," was her answer, while she 
 discovered an insulted dignity, that astonished, 
 without convincing him. 
 
 " But then why encourage him to follow you 
 hither, Miss Milner ?" 
 
 " Why commit a thousand follies," she replied in 
 tears, " every hour of my life V 
 
 "You then promote the hopes of Lord Frederick 
 without one serious intention of completing them ! 
 This is a conduct against which it is my duty to 
 guard you, and you shall no longer deceive either 
 him or yourself. The moment he arrives, it is my 
 resolution that you refuse to see him, or consent to 
 become his wife." 
 
 In answer to the alternative thus offered, she ap- 
 peared averse to both propositions ; and yet came 
 to no explanation why ; but left her guardian at the 
 end of the conference as much at a loss to decide 
 upon her true sentiments, as he was before he had 
 thus seriously requested he might be informed of 
 them ; but having stedfastly taken the resolution 
 which he had just communicated, he found that re- 
 solution a certain relief to his mind.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 53 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Sir Edward Ashton, though not invited by Miss 
 Milner, yet frequently did himself the honour to 
 visit her at her house ; sometimes he accompanied 
 Lord Elmwood, at other times he came to see Dor- 
 riforth alone, who generally introduced him to the 
 ladies. But Sir Edward was either so unwilling to 
 give pain to the object of his love, or so intimidated 
 by her frowns, that he seldom addressed her with a 
 single word, except the usual compliments at enter- 
 ing, and retiring. This apprehension of offending, 
 without one hope of pleasing, had the most awkward 
 effect upon the manners of the worthy baronet ; and 
 his endeavours to insinuate himself into the affections 
 of the woman he loved, merely by not giving her 
 offence either in speaking to her or looking at her, 
 formed a character so whimsical, that it frequently 
 forced a smile from Miss Milner, though his very 
 name had often power to throw a gloom over her 
 face : she looked upon him as the cause of her being 
 hurried to the election of a lover, before her own 
 mind could well direct her where to fix. Besides, 
 his pursuit was troublesome, while it was no triumph 
 to her vanity, which, by the addresses of Lord Fre- 
 derick, was in the highest manner gratified. 
 
 His lordship now arrives in the country, and 
 calls one morning at Miss Milner's : her guardian 
 sees his carriage coming up the avenue, and gives 
 orders to the servants, to say their lady is not at 
 home, but that Mr. Dorriforth is : Lord Frederick 
 leaves his compliments and goes away. 
 
 The ladies all observed his carriage and servants. 
 Miss Milner flew to her glass, adjusted her dress ; 
 and in her looks expressed every sign of palpitation 
 f 3
 
 54 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 but in vain she keeps her eye fixed upon the door 
 
 of the apartment : no Lord Frederick appears. 
 
 After some minutes of expectation, the door 
 opens, and her guardian comes in. She was disap- 
 pointed : he perceived that she was, and he looked 
 at her with a most serious face. She immediately 
 called to mind the assurance he had given her, 
 " that her acquaintance with Lord Frederick in its 
 then improper state should not continue ;" and be- 
 tween chagrin and confusion, she was at a loss how 
 to hehave. 
 
 Though the ladies were all present, Dorriforth 
 said, without the smallest reserve, " Perhaps, Miss 
 Milner, you may think I have taken an unwarrant- 
 able liberty, in giving orders to your servants to 
 deny you to Lord Frederick : but until his lordship 
 and I have had a private conference, or you conde- 
 scend to declare your sentiments more fully in re- 
 gard to his visits, I think it my duty to put an end 
 to them." 
 
 " You will always perform your duty, Mr. Dor- 
 riforth, I have no doubt, whether I concur or not." 
 
 " Yet believe me, madam, I should perform it 
 more cheerfully, if I could hope that it was sanction- 
 ed by your inclinations." 
 
 " I am not mistress of my inclinations, sir, or 
 they should conform to yours." 
 
 " Place them under my direction, and I will an- 
 swer for it they will." 
 
 A servant came in " Lord Frederick is returned, 
 sir, and says he should be glad to see you." " Shew 
 him into the study," cried Dorriforth hastily, and, 
 rising from his chair, left the room. 
 
 " I hope they won't quarrel," said Mrs. Horton, 
 meaning that she thought they would. 
 
 " I am sorry to see you so uneasy, Miss Milner," 
 said Miss Fenton, with perfect unconcern.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 55 
 
 As the badness of the weather had prevented 
 their usual morning's exercise, the ladies were em- 
 ployed at their needles till the dinner bell called 
 them away. " Do you think Lord Frederick is 
 gone?" then whispered Miss Milner to Miss Wood- 
 ley." I think not," she replied. " Go ask of the 
 servants, dear creature ;" and Miss Woodley went 
 out of the room. She soon returned, and said, apart, 
 " He is now getting into his chariot : I saw him pass 
 in violent haste through the hall : he seemed to fly." 
 " Ladies, the dinner is waiting," cried Mrs. Hor- 
 ton ; and they repaired to the dining-room, where 
 Dorriforth soon after came, and engrossed their 
 whole attention by his disturbed looks, and unusual 
 silence. Before dinner was over, he was, however, 
 more himself; but still he appeared thoughtful and 
 dissatisfied. At the time of their evening walk, he 
 excused himself from accompanying them, and they 
 saw him in a distant field with Mr. Sandford in 
 earnest conversation ; for Sandford and he stopped 
 on one spot for a quarter of an hour, as if the interest 
 of the subject had so engaged them, they stood still 
 without knowing it. Lord Elmwood, who had 
 joined the ladies, walked home with them. Dorri- 
 forth entered soon after, in a much less gloomy 
 humour than when he went out, and told his rela- 
 tion, that he and the ladies would dine with him the 
 next day, if he was disengaged ; and it was agreed 
 they should. 
 
 Still Dorriforth was in some perturbation, but the 
 immediate cause was concealed till the day follow- 
 ing, when, about an hour before the company's 
 departure from Elmwood Castle, Miss Milner and 
 Miss Woodley were desired, by a servant, to walk 
 into a separate apartment, in which they found Mr. 
 Dorriforth, with Mr. Sandford, waiting for them. 
 Her guardian made an apology to Miss Milner for
 
 56 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 the form, the ceremony, of which he was going to 
 make use ; but he trusted the extreme weight which 
 oppressed his mind, lest he should mistake the real 
 sentiments of a person whose happiness depended 
 upon his correct knowledge of them, would plead 
 his excuse. 
 
 " I know, Miss Milner," continued he, " the world 
 in general allows to unmarried women great latitude 
 in disguising their minds with respect to the man 
 they love. I, too, am willing to pardon any little 
 dissimulation that is but consistent with a modesty 
 that becomes every woman upon the subject of 
 marriage. But here, to what point I may limit, or 
 you may extend, this kind of venial deceit may so 
 widely differ that it is not impossible for me to re- 
 main unacquainted with your sentiments, even after 
 you have revealed them to me. Under this con- 
 sideration, I wish once more to hear your thoughts 
 in regard to matrimony, and to hear them before 
 one of your own sex, that I may form an opinion by 
 her constructions." 
 
 To all this serious oration, Miss Milner made no 
 other reply than by turning to Mr. Sandford, and 
 asking, " if he was the person of her own sex to 
 whosejudgment her guardian was to submit his own?" 
 
 " Madam," cried Sandford, angrily, " you are 
 come hither upon serious business." 
 
 " Any business must be serious to me, Mr. Sand- 
 ford, in which you are concerned ; and if you had 
 called it sorrowjul, the epithet would have suited 
 as well." 
 
 " Miss Milner," said her guardian, " I did not 
 bring you here to contend with Mr. Sandford." 
 
 " Then why, sir, bring him hither? for where he 
 and I are there must be contention." 
 
 " I brought him hither, madam, or I should 
 rather say, brought you to this house, merely that
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 57 
 
 he wight be present on this occasion, and with his 
 discernment relieve me from a suspicion that my 
 own judgment is neither able to suppress nor to 
 confirm." 
 
 " Are there any more witnesses you may wish to 
 call in, sir, to remove your douhts of my veracity ? 
 If there are, pray send for them before you begin 
 your interrogations." 
 
 He shook his head. She continued, 
 
 " The whole world is welcome to hear what I 
 say, and every different person is welcome to judge 
 me differently." 
 
 " Dear Miss Milner!" cried Miss Woodley, with a 
 tone of reproach for the vehemence with which she 
 had spoken. 
 
 " Perhaps, Miss Milner," said Dorriforth, " you 
 will not now reply to those questions I was going to 
 put?" 
 
 " Did I ever refuse, sir," returned she, with a 
 self-approving air, " to comply with any request 
 that you have seriously made ? Have I ever refused 
 obedience to your commands whenever you thought 
 proper to lay them upon me I If not, you have no 
 right to suppose that I will do so now." 
 
 He was going to reply, when Mr. Sandford sul- 
 lenly interrupted him, and walking towards the 
 door, cried, " When you come to the point for 
 which you brought me here, send for me again." 
 
 " Stay now," said Dorriforth. " And Miss Mil- 
 ner," continued he, ," I not only entreat, but con- 
 jure you to tell me have you given your word or 
 your affections to Lord Frederick Lawnley?" 
 
 The colour spread over her face, and she replied, 
 " I thought confessions were always to be made in 
 secret : however, as I am not a member of your 
 church, I submit to the persecution of a heretic, 
 and I answer Lord Frederick has neither my word 
 nor any share in my affections."
 
 58 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 Sandford, Dorriforth, and Miss Woodley looked 
 at each other with a degree of surprise that for 
 some time kept them silent. At length Dorriforth 
 said, " And it is your firm intention never to become 
 his wife?" 
 
 To which she answered, " At present it is." 
 
 " At present ! Do you suspect you shall change 
 your mind?" 
 
 " Women sometimes do." 
 
 " But before that change can take place, your 
 acquaintance will be at an end ; for it is that which 
 I shall next insist upon, and to which you can have 
 no objection." 
 
 She replied, " I had rather it should continue." 
 
 " On what account?" cried Dorriforth. 
 
 " Because it entertains me." 
 
 " For shame, for shame !" returned he : " it en- 
 dangers your character and your happiness. Yet 
 again, do not suffer me to interfere, if the breaking 
 with my Lord Frederick can militate against your 
 felicity." 
 
 " By no means,'' she answered : " Lord Frederick 
 makes part of my amusement, but can never consti- 
 tute my felicity." 
 
 " Miss Woodley," said Dorriforth, " do you com- 
 prehend your friend in the same literal and un- 
 equivocal sense that I do?" 
 
 " Certainly 1 do, sir." 
 
 " And pray, Miss Woodley," said he, " were 
 those the sentiments which you have always enter- 
 tained ?" 
 
 Miss Woodley hesitated. He continued " Or 
 has this conversation altered them?" 
 
 She hesitated again, then answered, " This con- 
 versation has altered them." 
 
 " And yet you confide in it!" cried Sandford, 
 looking at her with contempt. 
 
 " Certainly I do," replied Miss Woodley.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 59 
 
 " Do not you, then, Mr. Sandford?" asked Dor- 
 riforth. 
 
 " I would advise you to act as if I did," replied 
 Sand ford. 
 
 " Then, Miss Milner," said Dorriforth, " you see 
 Lord Frederick no more : and I hope I have your 
 permission to apprize him of this arrangement." 
 
 " You have, sir," she replied with a completely 
 unembarrassed countenance and voice. 
 
 Her friend looked at her as if to discover some 
 lurking wish, adverse to all these protestations, but 
 she could not discern one. Sandford, too, fixed his 
 penetrating eyes upon her, as if he would look 
 through her soul; but finding it perfectly composed, 
 he cried out 
 
 " Why, then, not write his dismission herself, and 
 save you, Mr. Dorriforth, the trouble of any farther 
 contest with him?" 
 
 " Indeed, Miss Milner," said Dorriforth, " that 
 would oblige me ; for it is with great reluctance that 
 I meet him upon this subject : he was extremely 
 impatient and importunate when he was last with 
 me: he took advantage of my ecclesiastical situation 
 to treat me with a levity and ill breeding, that I 
 could ill have suffered upon any other consideration 
 than a compliance with my duty." 
 
 " Dictate what you please, Mr. Dorriforth, and I 
 will write it," said she, with a warmth like the most 
 unaffected inclination. " And while you, sir," she 
 continued, " are so indulgent as not to distress me 
 with the importunities of any gentleman to whom 
 I am averse, I think myself equally bound, to rid 
 you of the impertinence of every one to whom you 
 may have objection." 
 
 " But," answered he, " rest assured I have no 
 material, objection to my Lord Frederick, except 
 from that dilemma, in which your acquaintance with
 
 00 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 him has involved us all ; and I should conceive the 
 same against any other man, where the same cir- 
 cumstance occurred. As you have now, however, 
 freely and politely consented to the manner in 
 which it has been proposed that you shall break 
 with him, I will not trouble you a moment longer 
 upon a subject on which I have so frequently ex- 
 plained my wishes, but conclude it by assuring you, 
 that your ready acquiescence has given me the 
 sincerest satisfaction." 
 
 " I hope, Mr. Sandford," said she, turning to him 
 with a smile, " I have given you satisfaction likewise?" 
 
 Sandford could not say yes, and was ashamed to 
 say no : he, therefore, made answer only by his looks, 
 which were full of suspicion. She, notwithstanding, 
 made him a very low courtesy. Her guardian then 
 handed her out of the apartment into her coach, 
 which was waiting to take her, Miss Woodley, and 
 himself home. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Notwithstanding the seeming readiness with 
 which Miss Milner had resigned all farther acquaint- 
 ance with Lord Frederick, during the short ride 
 home she appeared to have lost great part of her 
 wonted spirits : she was thoughtful, and once sighed 
 heavily. Dorriforth began to fear that she had not 
 only made a sacrifice of her affections, but of her 
 veracity ; yet, why she had done so, he could not 
 comprehend. 
 
 As the carriage moved slowly through a lane 
 between Elmwood Castle and her own house, on 
 casting her eyes out of the window, Miss Milner's 
 countenance was brightened in an instant; and that
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 61 
 
 instant Lord Frederick, on horseback, was at the 
 coach door, and the coachman stopped. 
 
 " Oh, Miss Miiner," cried he (with a voice and 
 manner that could give little suspicion of the truth 
 ofwhathesaid), " I am overjoyed at the happiness 
 of seeing you, even though it is but an accidental 
 meeting." 
 
 She was evidently glad to see him: but the 
 earnestness with which he spoke seemed to put her 
 upon her guard not to express the like satisfaction ; 
 and she said, in a cool constrained manner, she 
 '"was glad to see his lordship." 
 
 The reserve with which she spoke gave Lord 
 Frederick immediate suspicion who was in the coach 
 with her, and turning his head quickly, he met the 
 stern eye of Dorriforth ; upon which, without the 
 smallest salutation, he turned from him again 
 abruptly and rudely. Miss Miiner was confused, 
 and Miss Woodley in torture, at this palpable af- 
 front, to which Dorriforth alone appeared indifferent. 
 
 " Go on," said Miss Miiner to the footman, " de- 
 sire the coachman to drive on." 
 
 " No," cried Lord Frederick, " not till you have 
 told me when I shall see you again." 
 
 " I will write you word, my lord," replied she, 
 something alarmed. " You shall have a letter im- 
 mediately after I get home." 
 
 As if he guessed what its contents were to be, 
 he cried out with warmth, " Take care, then, 
 madam, how you treat me in that letter. And you, 
 Mr. Dorriforth," turning to him, " do you take 
 care what it contains ; for if it be dictated by you, 
 to you I shall send the answer." 
 
 Dorriforth, without making any reply, or casting 
 a look at him, put his head out of the window on 
 the opposite side, and called, in a very angry tone, 
 
 VOL. XXVIII. G
 
 62 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 to the coachman, " How dare you not drive on, 
 when your lady orders you ?" 
 
 The sound of Dorriforth's voice in anger was to 
 the servants so unusual that it acted like electricity 
 upon the man ; and he drove away at the instant 
 with such rapidity that Lord Frederick was in a 
 moment many yards behind. As soon, however, as 
 he recovered from the surprise into which this sud- 
 den command had thrown him, he rode with speed 
 after the carriage, and followed it, till it arrived at 
 the door of Miss Milner's house ; there, giving 
 himself up to the rage of love, or to rage against 
 Dorriforth for the contempt he had shewn to him 
 he leaped from his horse when Miss Milner stepped 
 from her carriage, and seizing her hand, entreated 
 her " not to desert him, in compliance with the in- 
 junctions of monkish hypocrisy." 
 
 Dorriforth heard this, standing silently by, with 
 a manly scorn upon his countenance. 
 
 Miss Milner struggled to loose her hand, saying, 
 " Excuse me from replying to you now, my lord." 
 
 In return, he lifted her hand eagerly to his lips, 
 and began to devour it with kisses; when Dorriforth, 
 with an instantaneous impulse, rushed forward, and 
 struck him a violent blow in the face. Under the 
 force of this assault, and the astonishment it excited, 
 Lord Frederick staggered, and, letting fa'l the hand 
 of Miss Milner, her guardian immediately laid hold 
 of it, and led her into the house. 
 
 She was terrified beyond description ; and with ex- 
 treme difficulty Mr. Dorriforth conveyed her to her 
 own chamber, without taking her in his arms. 
 When, by the assistance of her maid, he had placed 
 her upon a sofa, overwhelmed with shame and 
 confusion for what he had done, he fell upon his 
 knees before her, and " implored her forgiveness
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 63 
 
 for the indelicacy he had been guilty of in her pre- 
 sence." And that he had alarmed her, and had 
 forgotten the respect which he thought sacredly her 
 due, seemed the only circumstance which then 
 dwelt upon his thoughts. 
 
 She felt the indecorum of the posture he had 
 condescended to take, and was shocked. To see 
 her guardian at her feet, struck her with a sense of 
 impropriety, as if she had seen a parent there. 
 With agitation and emotion, she conjured him to 
 rise ; and, with a thousand protestations, declared, 
 " that she thought the rashness of the action was 
 the highest proof of his regard for her." 
 
 Miss Woodley now entered : her care being ever 
 employed upon the unfortunate, Lord Frederick had 
 just been the object of it: she had waited by his 
 side, and, with every good purpose, had preached 
 patience to him, while he was smarting under the 
 pain, but more under the shame, of his chastisement. 
 At first, his fury threatened a retort upon the 
 servants around him (and who refused his entrance 
 into the house) of the punishment he had received. 
 But, in the certainty of an amende honorable, 
 which must hereafter be made, he overcame the 
 many temptations which the moment offered ; and, 
 remounting his horse, rode away from the scene of 
 his disgrace. 
 
 No sooner had Miss Woodley entered the room, 
 and Dorriforth had resigned to her the care of his 
 ward, than he flew to the spot where he had left 
 Lord Frederick, negligent of what might be the 
 event if he still remained there. After inquiring, 
 and being told that he was gone, Dorriforth retired 
 to his own apartment with a bosom torn by more 
 excruciating sensations than those which he had 
 gj^en to his adversary. 
 
 The reflection which struck him first with re- 
 G 2
 
 64 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 morse, as he shut the door of his chamber, was j 
 " I have departed from my character from the 
 sacred character, the dignity of my profession and 
 
 sentiments I have departed from myself. 1 am 
 
 no longer the philosopher, but the ruffian I have 
 treated with an unpardonable insult a young noble- 
 man, whose only offence was love, and a fond desire 
 to insinuate himself into the favour of his mistress. 
 I must atone for this outrage in whatever manner 
 he may choose; and the law of honour and of justice 
 (though in this one instance contrary to the law of 
 religion) enjoins, that if he demands my life in satis- 
 faction for his wounded feelings, it is his due. Alas ! 
 that I could but have laid it down this morning, un- 
 sullied with a cause for which it will make inade- 
 quate atonement !" 
 
 His next reproach was " I have offended, and 
 filled with horror, a beautiful young woman, whom 
 it was my duty to have protected from those brutal 
 manners, to which I myself have exposed her." 
 
 Again " 1 have drawn upon myself the just up- 
 braidings of my faithful preceptor and friend ; of the 
 man in whose judgment it was my delight to be ap- 
 proved : above all, I have drawn upon myself the 
 stings of conscience." 
 
 " Where shall I pass this sleepless night?" cried 
 he, walking repeatedly across his chamber. " Can I 
 go to the ladies? I am unworthy of their society. 
 Shall I go and repose my disturbed mind on Sand- 
 ford ? I am ashamed to tell him the cause of my 
 uneasiness. Shall I go to Lord Frederick, and 
 humbling myself before him, beg his forgiveness ? 
 
 He would spurn me for a coward. No" and 
 
 he lifted up his eyes to Heaven, " Thou all-great, 
 all-wise and omnipotent Being, Thou whom I have 
 most offended, it is to Thee alone that I have re- 
 course in this hour of tribulation, and from Thee
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 65 
 
 alone I solicit comfort. The confidence with which 
 1 now address myself to Thee, encouraged by that 
 long intercourse which religion has effected, 1 here 
 acknowledge to repay me amply in this one mo- 
 ment, for the many years of my past life, devoted 
 with my best, though imperfect, efforts to thy ser- 
 vice." 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Although Miss Milner had not foreseen any fatal 
 event resulting from the indignity offered to Lord 
 Frederick, yet she passed a night very different from 
 those to which she had been accustomed. No sooner 
 was she falling into a sleep, than a thousand vague, 
 but distressing, ideas darted across her imagination. 
 Her heart would sometimes whisper to her when 
 she was half asleep, " Lord Frederick is banished 
 from you for ever." She shakes off the uneasiness 
 this consideration brings along with it ; she then 
 starts, and sees the blow still aimed at him by Dorri- 
 forth. No sooner has she driven away this painful 
 image, than she is again awakened by beholding her 
 guardian at her feet suing for pardon. She sighs, 
 she trembles, and is chilled with terror. 
 
 Relieved by tears, towards the morning she sinks 
 into a slumber, but waking, finds the same images 
 crowding all together upon her mind : she is doubt- 
 ful to which to give the preference. One, however, 
 rushes the foremost and continues so. She knows 
 not the fatal consequence of ruminating, nor why she 
 tlwells upon that, more than upon all the rest, but it 
 will give place to none. 
 
 She rises languid and disordered, and at breakfast 
 G 3
 
 66 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 adds fresh pain to Dorriforth by her altered appear- 
 ance. 
 
 He had scarcely left the room, when an officer 
 waited upon him with a challenge from Lord Fre- 
 derick. To the message delivered by this gentle- 
 man, he replied, 
 
 " Sir, as a clergyman, more especially of the 
 Church of Rome, I know not whether I am not ex- 
 empt from answering a demand of this kind ; but not 
 having had forbearance to avoid an offence, I will not 
 claim an exemption, that would only indemnify me 
 from making reparation." 
 
 " You will then, sir, meet Lord Frederick at the 
 appointed hour ? " said the officer. 
 
 " 1 will, sir ; and my immediate care shall be to 
 find a gentleman who will accompany me." 
 
 The officer withdrew, and when Dorriforth was 
 again alone, he was going once more to reflect ; but 
 he durst not. Since yesterday, reflection, for the 
 first time, was become painful to him ; and even as he 
 rode the short way to Lord Elmwood's immediately 
 after, he found his own thoughts were so insufferable, 
 that he was obliged to enter into conversation with 
 his servant. Solitude, that formerly charmed him, 
 would, at those moments, have been worse than 
 death. 
 
 At Lord Elmwood's, he met Sandford in the hall ; 
 and the sight of him was no longer welcome : he 
 knew how different the principles which he had just 
 adopted were to those of that reverend friend, and 
 without Sandford's complaining, or even suspecting 
 what had happened, his presence was a sufficient re- 
 proach. He passed him as hastily as he could, and 
 inquiring for Lord Elmwood, disclosed to him his 
 errand. It was to ask him to be his second. The 
 young earl started, and wished to consult his tutor,
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 67 
 
 but that his kinsman strictly forbade ; and having 
 urged his reasons with arguments which at least the 
 earl could not refute, he was at length prevailed 
 upon to promise that he would accompany him to 
 the field, which was at the distance only of a few 
 miles, and the parties were to be there at seven on 
 the same evening. 
 
 As soon as his business with Lord Elmwood was 
 settled, Dorriforth returned home, to make prepara- 
 tions for the event which might ensue from this 
 meeting. He wrote letters to several of his friends, 
 and one to his ward ; in writing which, he could with 
 difficulty preserve the usual firmness of his mind. 
 
 Sandford, going into Lord Elmwood's library soon 
 after his relation had left him, expressed his surprise 
 at finding he was gone; upon which that nobleman, 
 having answered a few questions, and given a few 
 significant hints that he was entrusted with a secret, 
 frankly confessed what he had promised to conceal. 
 
 Sandford, as much as a holy man could be, was 
 enraged at Dorriforth for the cause of the challenge, 
 but was still more enraged at his wickedness in ac- 
 cepting it. He applauded his pupil's virtue in 
 making the discovery, and congratulated himself 
 that he should be the instrument of saving not only 
 his friend's life, but of preventing the scandal of his 
 being engaged in a duel. 
 
 In the ardour of his designs, he went immediately 
 to Miss Milner's entered that house which he had 
 so long refused to enter, and at a time when he was 
 upon aggravated bad terms with its owner. 
 
 He asked for Dorriforth, went hastily into his 
 apartment, and poured upon him a torrent of re- 
 bukes. Dorriforth bore all he said with the patience 
 of a devotee, but with the firmness of a man. He 
 owned his fault ; but no eloquence could make him 
 recal the promise he had given to repair the injury.
 
 68 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 Unshaken by the arguments, persuasions, and me- 
 naces of Sandford, he gave an additional proof of 
 that inflexibility for which he had been long distin- 
 guished ; and after a dispute of two hours, they 
 parted, neither of them the better for what either 
 had advanced, but Dorriforth something the worse : 
 his conscience gave testimony to Sandford's opi- 
 nion, " that he was bound by ties more sacred 
 than worldly honour." But while he owned, he 
 would not yield to the duty. 
 
 Sandford left him, determined, however, that 
 Lord Elmwood should not be accessary in his 
 guilt, and this he declared ; upon which Dorriforth 
 took the resolution of seeking another second. 
 
 In passing through the house on his return home, 
 Sandford met, by accident, Mrs. Horton, Miss Mil- 
 ner, and the other two ladies, returning from a 
 saunter in the garden. Surprised at the sight of 
 Mr. Sandford in her house, Miss Milner would not 
 express that surprise ; but going up to him with all 
 the friendly benevolence which in general played 
 about her heart, she took hold of one of his hands, 
 and pressed it with a kindness which told him more 
 forcibly that he was welcome, than if she had made 
 the most elaborate speech to convince him of it. 
 He, however, seemed little touched with her be- 
 haviour ; and as an excuse for breaking his word, 
 cried, 
 
 " I beg your pardon, madam ; but 1 was brought 
 hither in my anxiety to prevent murder." 
 
 <c Murder !" exclaimed all the ladies. 
 
 " Yes," answered he, addressing himself to Miss 
 Fenton, " your betrothed husband is a party con- 
 cerned : he is going to be second to Mr. Dorriforth, 
 who means this very evening to be killed by my 
 Lord Frederick, or to kill him, in addition to the 
 blow that he gave him last night."
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 69 
 
 Mrs. Horton exclaimed, " If Mr. Dorriforth dies, 
 lie dies a martyr." 
 
 Miss Woodley cried with fervour, " Heaven 
 forbid ! " 
 
 Miss Fenton cried, " Dear me ! " 
 
 While Miss Milner, without uttering one word, 
 sunk speechless on the floor. 
 
 They lifted her up, and brought her to the dooi 
 which entered into the garden. She soon recovered; 
 for the tumult of her mind would not suffer her to 
 remain inactive, and she was roused, in spite of her 
 weakness, to endeavour to ward oft' the impending 
 disaster. In vain, however, she attempted to walk 
 to her guardian's apartment: she sunk as before, 
 and was taken to a settee, while Miss Woodley was 
 dispatched to bring him to her. 
 
 Informed of the cause of her indisposition, he fol- 
 lowed Miss Woodley with a tender anxiety for her 
 health, aud with grief and confusion that he had so 
 carelessly endangered it. On his entering the room, 
 Sandford beheld the inquietude of his mind, and 
 cried, " Here is your guardian" with a cruel em- 
 phasis on the word. 
 
 He was too much engaged by the sufferings of his 
 ward to reply to Sandford. He placed himself on the 
 settee by her, and with the utmost tenderness, re- 
 verence, and pity, entreated her not to be concerned 
 at an accident in which he, and he alone, had been 
 to blame ; but which he had no doubt would be ac- 
 commodated in the most amicable manner. 
 
 " I have one favour to require of you, Mr. Dor- 
 riforth," said she; " and that is, your promise, your 
 solemn promise, which I know is ever sacred, that 
 you will not meet my Lord Frederick." 
 
 He hesitated. 
 
 " Oh, madam," cried Sandford, " he is grown a
 
 70 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 libertine now ; and I would not believe his word, i{ 
 he were to give it you." 
 
 " Then, sir," returned Dorriforth, angrily, " you 
 may believe ray word, for I will keep that which I 
 gave to you. I will give Lord Frederick all the 
 restitution in my power. But, my dear Miss Mil- 
 ner, let not this alarm you : we may not find it con- 
 venient to meet this many a day ; and most probably 
 some fortunate explanation may prevent our meeting 
 at all. Knot, reckon but among the many duels 
 that are fought, how few are fatal : and, even in that 
 
 case, how small would be the loss to society, if " 
 
 He was proceeding. 
 
 " I should ever deplore the loss! " cried Miss Mil- 
 ner: " on such an occasion, I could not survive the 
 death of either." 
 
 " For my part," he replied, " I look upon my 
 life as much forfeited to my Lord Frederick, to 
 whom I have given a high offence, as it might in 
 other instances have been forfeited to the offended 
 laws of the land. Honour is the law of the polite 
 part of the land : we know it ; and when we trans- 
 gress against it knowingly, we justly incur our 
 ounishment. However, Miss Milner, this affair will 
 not be settled immediately ; and 1 have no doubt, 
 but that all will be as you could wish. Do you 
 think I should appear thus easy," added he, with a 
 smile, " if I were going to be shot at by my Lord 
 Frederick?" 
 
 " Very well ! " cried Sandford, with a look that 
 evinced he was better informed. 
 
 " You will stay within, then, all this day ? " said 
 Miss Milner. 
 
 " I am engaged to dinner," he replied : " it is 
 unlucky I am sorry for it but I'll be at home early 
 in the evening."
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 71 
 
 " Stained with human blood," tried Sandford, 
 " or yourself a corpse ! " 
 
 The ladies lifted up their hands. Miss Milner 
 rose from her seat, and threw herself at her guar- 
 dian's feet. 
 
 " You kneeled to me last night: I now kneel to 
 you," she cried ; " kneel, never desiring to rise 
 again, if you persist in your intention. I am weak, 
 I am volatile, I am indiscreet ; but I have a heart 
 from which some impressions can never oh ! never, 
 be erased." 
 
 He endeavoured to raise her : she persisted to 
 kneel and here the affright, the terror, the anguish 
 she endured, discovered to her her own sentiments 
 which, till that moment, she had doubted and 
 she continued, 
 
 " I no longer pretend to concel my passion I 
 love Lord Frederick Lawnley. 
 
 Her guardian started. 
 
 " Yes, to my shame, I love him," cried she, all 
 emotion : " I meant to have struggled with the 
 weakness, because I supposed it would be displeas- 
 ing to you ; but apprehension for his safety has 
 taken away every power of restraint, and I beseech 
 you to spare his life." 
 
 " This is exactly what I thought," cried Sand- 
 ford, with an air of triumph. 
 
 " Good Heaven ! " cried Miss Woodley. 
 
 " But it is very natural," said Mrs. Horton. 
 
 " I own," said Dorriforth, (struck with amaze, 
 and now taking her from his feet with a force that 
 she could not resist) " I own, Miss Milner, I am 
 greatly affected and wounded at this contradiction 
 in your character." 
 
 " But did not I say so V cried Sandford, inter- 
 rupting him. 
 
 " However," continued he, " you may take my
 
 72 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 word, though you have deceived me in yours, that 
 Lord Frederick's life is secure. For your sake, I 
 would not endanger it for the universe. But let 
 this be a warning to you " 
 
 He was proceeding with the most austere looks, 
 and pointed language, when observing the shame, 
 and the self-reproach that agitated her mind, he di- 
 vested himself in great measure of his resentment, 
 and said, mildly, 
 
 " Let this be a warning to you, how you deal in 
 future with the friends who wish you well. You 
 have hurried me into a mistake that might have cost 
 me my life, or the life of the man you love; and thus 
 exposed you to misery more bitter than death." 
 
 " I am not worthy of your friendship, Mr. Dorri- 
 forth,"said she, sobbing with grief; " and from this 
 moment forsake me." 
 
 " No, madam, not in the moment you first dis- 
 cover to me how I can make you happy." 
 
 The conversation appearing now to become of a 
 nature in which the rest of the company could have 
 no share whatever, they were all, except Mr. Sand- 
 ford, retiring ; when Miss Milner called Miss Wood- 
 ley back, saying, " Stay you with me : I was never 
 so unfit to be left without your friendship." 
 
 " Perhaps at present you can dispense with 
 mine ? " said Dorriforth. She made no answer. 
 He then once more assured her Lord Frederick's 
 life was safe, and was quitting the room : but when 
 he recollected in what humiliation he had left her, 
 turning towards her as heopened the door, he added, 
 
 " And be assured, madam, that my esteem for 
 you shall be the same as ever." 
 
 Sandford, as he followed him, bowed, and re- 
 peated the same words " And, madam, be as- 
 sured that my esteem for you, shall be the same 
 as ever."
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 73 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 This taunting reproof from Sandford made little 
 impression upon Miss Milner, whose thoughts were 
 all fixed on a subject of much more importance than 
 the opinion which he entertained of her. She 
 threw her arms about her friend the moment they 
 were left alone, and asked with anxiety, " what 
 she thought of her behaviour." Miss Woodley, who 
 eould not approve of the duplicity she had betrayed 
 still wished to reconcile her as much as possible to 
 her own conduct, and replied, she " highly com- 
 mended the frankness with which she had, at last, 
 acknowledged her sentiments." 
 
 "Frankness!" cried Miss Milner, starting. 
 " Frankness, my dear Miss Woodley ! What you 
 have just now heard me say is all a falsehood." 
 
 " How, Miss Milner?" 
 
 " Oh, Miss Woodley," returned she, sobbing 
 upon her bosom, " pity the agonies of my heart, my 
 heart by nature sincere, when such are the fatal 
 propensities it cherishes, that I must submit to the 
 grossest falsehoods rather than reveal the truth." 
 
 "What can you mean?" cried Miss Woodley, 
 with the strongest amazement in her face. 
 
 " Do you suppose I love Lord Frederick? Do 
 you suppose I can love him ? Oh fly, and prevent 
 my guardian from telling him such an untruth." 
 
 " Whatcan you mean V repeated Miss Woodley ; 
 " I protest you terrify me." For this inconsistency 
 in the behaviour of Miss Milner appeared as if her 
 senses had been deranged. 
 
 " Fly," she resumed, " and prevent the inevitable 
 ill consequence which will ensue, if Lord Frederick 
 should be told this falsehood. It will involve us all 
 in greater disquiet than we suffer at present." 
 
 vol. xxvin. H
 
 74 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " Then what has influenced you, my dear Miss 
 Milner?" 
 
 "That which impels all my actions an unsur- 
 mountable instinct ; a fatality that will for ever ren- 
 der me the most miserable of human beings, and 
 yet you, even you, my dear Miss Woodley, will not 
 pity me." 
 
 Miss Woodley pressed her closely in her arms, 
 and vowed, " That while she was unhappy, from 
 whatever cause, she still would pity her." 
 
 " Go to Mr. Dorriforth then, and prevent him 
 from imposing upon Lord Frederick." 
 
 "But that imposition is the only means of pre- 
 venting the duel," replied Miss Woodley. " The 
 moment I have told him that your affection was but 
 counterfeited, he will no longer refuse accepting the 
 challenge." 
 
 " Then at all events I am undone," exclaimed 
 Miss Milner; " for the duel is horrible, even beyond 
 every thing else." 
 
 " How so?" returned Miss Woodley, " since you 
 have declared that you do not care for my Lord 
 Frederick ?" 
 
 " But are you so blind," returned Miss Milner 
 with a degree of madness in her looks, " as to be- 
 lieve I do not care for Mr. Dorriforth ? Oh ! Miss 
 Woodley ! I love him with all the passion of a mis- 
 tress, and with all the tenderness of a wife." 
 
 Miss Woodley at this sentence sat down it was 
 on a chair that was close to her her feet could not 
 have taken her to any other. She trembled she 
 was white as ashes, and deprived of speech. Miss 
 Milner, taking her by the hand, said, 
 
 " I know what you feel I know what you 
 think of me and how much you hate and despise 
 me. But Heaven is witness to all my struggles 
 nor would I, even to myself, acknowledge the
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 75 
 
 shameless prepossession, till forced by a sense of his 
 danger" 
 
 " Silence ! " cried Miss Woodley, struck with 
 horror. 
 
 " And even now," resumed Miss Milner, " have 
 I not concealed it from all but you, by plunging 
 myself into a new difficulty, from which I know not 
 how I shall be extricated ? And do I entertain 
 a hope ? No, Miss Woodley, nor ever will. But 
 suffer me to own my folly to you, to entreat your 
 soothing friendship to free me from my weakness. 
 And, oh ! give me your advice to deliver me from 
 the difficulties which surround me." 
 
 Miss Woodley was still pale and still silent. 
 
 Education is called second nature. In the strict 
 (but not enlarged) education of Miss Woodley, it 
 was more powerful than the first ; and the violation 
 of oaths, persons, or things consecrated to Heaven, 
 was, in her opinion, if not the most enormous, yet 
 among the most terrific in the catalogue of crimes. 
 
 Miss Milner had lived so long in a family who had 
 imbibed those opinions, that she was convinced of 
 their existence : nay her own reason told her that 
 solemn vows of every kind ought to be sacred ; and 
 the more she respected her guardian's understand- 
 ing, the less did she call in question his religious 
 tenets : in esteeming him, she esteemed all his 
 notions ; and, among.the rest, venerated those of his 
 religion. Yet that passion, which had unhappily 
 taken possession of her whole soul, would not have 
 been inspired, had there not subsisted an early dif- 
 ference in their systems of divine faith. Had she 
 been early taught what were the sacred functions of 
 a Roman ecclesiastic, though all her esteem, all her 
 admiration, had been attracted by the qualities and 
 accomplishments of her guardian, yet education 
 would have given such a prohibition to her love, 
 H 2
 
 76 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 that she would have been precluded from it, as by 
 that barrier which divides a sister from a brother. 
 
 This, unfortunately, was not the case ; and Miss 
 Milner loved Dorriforth without one conscious check 
 to tell her she was wrong, except that which con- 
 vinced her, her love would be avoided by him with 
 detestation, and with horror. 
 
 Miss Woodley, something recovered from her first 
 surprise and sufferings for never did her suscepti- 
 ble mind suffer so exquisitely amidst all her grief 
 and abhorrence, felt that pity was still predominant ; 
 and, reconciled to the faults of Miss Milner by 
 her misery, she once more looked ather with friend- 
 ship, and asked, " what she could do to render her 
 less unhappy." 
 
 " Make me forget," replied Miss Milner, " every 
 moment of my life since 1 first saw you. That mo- 
 ment was teeming with a weight of cares, under 
 which I must labour till my death." 
 
 " And even in death," replied Miss Woodley, 
 " do not hope to shake them off. If unrepented in 
 this world" 
 
 She was proceeding but the anxiety her friend 
 endured would not suffer her to be free from the 
 apprehension, that notwithstanding the positive as- 
 surance of her guardian, if he and Lord Frederick 
 should meet, the duel might still take place ; she 
 therefore rang the bell and inquired if Mr. Dorri- 
 forth was still at home ? The answer was, " He had 
 rode out." " You remember," said Miss Woodley, 
 " he told you he should dine from home." This 
 did not, however, dismiss her fears, and she dis- 
 patched two servants different ways in pursuit of 
 him, acquainting them with her suspicions, and 
 charging them to prevent the duel. Sandford had 
 also taken his precautions ; but though he knew the 
 time, he did not know the exact place of their ap-
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 77 
 
 pointment, for that Lord Elmwood had forgot to 
 inquire. 
 
 The excessive alarm which Miss Milner discover- 
 ed upon this occasion was imputed by the servants, 
 and by others who were witnesses of it, to her affec- 
 tion for Lord Frederick; while none but Miss Wood- 
 ley knew, or had the most distant suspicion of, the 
 real cause. 
 
 Mrs. Horton and Miss Fenton, who were sitting 
 together expatiating on the duplicity of their own 
 sex in the instance just before them, had, notwith- 
 standing the interest of the discourse, a longing de- 
 sire to break it off; for they were impatient to see 
 this poor frail being whom they were loading with 
 their censure. They longed to see if she would have 
 the confidence to look them in the face ; them, to 
 whom she had so often protested, that she had not 
 the smallest attachment to Lord Frederick, but from 
 motives of vanity. 
 
 These ladies heard with infinite satisfaction that 
 dinner had been served, but met Miss Milner at the 
 table with a less degree of pleasure than they had 
 expected ; for her mind was so totally abstracted 
 from any consideration of them, that they could not 
 discern a single blush, or confused glance, which 
 their presence occasioned. No, she had before them 
 divulged nothing of which she wasashamed : she was 
 only ashamed that what she had said was not true. 
 In the bosom of Miss Woodley alone was that secret 
 entrusted which could call a blush into her face; and 
 before her, she did feel confusion : before the gentle 
 friend, to whom she had till this time communicated 
 all her faults without embarrassment, she now cast 
 down her eyes in shame. 
 
 Soon after the dinner was removed, Lord Elm- 
 wood entered ; and that gallant young nobleman 
 declared " Mr. Sandford had used him ill, in not 
 li 3
 
 78 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 permitting him to accompany his relation ; for he- 
 feared that Mr. Dorriforth would now throw him- 
 self upon the sword of Lord Frederick, without a 
 single friend near to defend him." A rebuke from 
 the eye of Miss Woodley, which, from this day, had 
 u command over Miss Milner, restrained her from 
 expressing the affright she suffered from this intima- 
 tion. Miss Fenton replied, " As to that, my lord, 
 I see no reason why Mr. Dorriforth and Lord Fre- 
 derick should not now be friends." " Certainly," 
 said Mrs. Horton ; " for as soon as my Lord Frede- 
 rick is made acquainted with Miss Milner's confes- 
 sion, all differences must be reconciled." "What 
 confession?" asked Lord Elmwood. 
 
 Miss Milner, to avoid hearing a repetition of that 
 which gave her pain even to recollect, rose in order 
 to retire into her own apartment, but was obliged 
 to sit down again, till she received the assistance of 
 Lord Elmwood and her friend, who led her into her 
 dressing-room. She reclined upon a sofa there, and 
 though left alone with that friend, a silence followed 
 of half an hour: nor, when the conversation began, 
 was the name of Dorriforth once uttered ; they 
 were grown cool and considerate since the disco- 
 very, and both were equally fearful of naming him. 
 
 The vanity of the world, the folly of riches, the 
 charms of retirement, and such topics engaged their 
 discourse, but nottheir thoughts, for near two hours ; 
 and the first time the word Dorriforth was spoken 
 was by a servant, who with alacrity opened the 
 dressing-room door, without previously rapping, and 
 cried, " Madam, Mr. Dorriforth " 
 
 Dorriforth immediately came in, and went eagerly 
 to Miss Milner. Miss Woodley beheld the glow of 
 joy and of guilt upon her face, and did not rise to 
 give him her seat, as was her custom, when she was 
 sitting bv his ward and ho came to her with intel-
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 7D 
 
 ligence. He therefore stood while he repeated all 
 that had happened in his interview with Lord Fre- 
 derick. 
 
 But with her gladness to see her guardian safe, 
 she had forgot to inquire of the safety of his anta- 
 gonist of the man whom she had pretended to love 
 so passionately : even smiles of rapture were upon 
 her face, though Dorriforth might be returned from 
 putting him to death. This incongruity of behaviour 
 Miss Woodley observed, and was confounded ; but 
 Dorriforth, in whose thoughts a suspicion either of 
 her love for him or indifference for Lord Frederick 
 had no place, easily reconciled this inconsistency, 
 and said, 
 
 " You see by my countenance that all is well ; and 
 therefore you smile on me before I tell you what 
 has passed." 
 
 This brought her to the recollection of her con- 
 duct, and now with looks ill constrained, she at- 
 tempted the expression of an alarm she did not feel. 
 
 " Nay, I assure you Lord Frederick is safe," he 
 resumed, " and the disgrace of his blow washed en- 
 tirely away by a few drops of blood from this arm." 
 And he laid his hand upon his left arm, which rested 
 in his waistcoat as a kind of sling. 
 
 She cast her eyes there, and seeing where the ball 
 had entered the coat sleeve, she gave an involuntary 
 scream, and reclined upon the sofa. Instead of that 
 affectionate sympathy which Miss Woodley used to 
 exert upon her slightest illness or affliction, she now 
 addressed her in an unpitying tone, and said, 
 " Miss Milner, you have heard Lord Frederick is 
 safe : you have therefore nothing to alarm you." 
 Nor did she run to hold a smelling bottle, or to raise 
 her head. Her guardian seeing her near fainting, 
 and without any assistance from her friend, was 
 going himself to give it ; but on this, Miss Woodley
 
 80 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 interfered, and having taken her head upon her arm, 
 assured him, " it was a weakness to which Miss 
 Milner was very subject; that she would ring for her 
 maid, who knew how to relieve her instantly with a 
 few drops." Satisfied with this assurance, Dorri- 
 forth left the room ; and a surgeon being come to 
 examine his wound, he retired into his own chamber. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 The power delegated by the confidential to those 
 entrusted with their secrets, Miss Woodley was the 
 last person on earth to abuse but she was also the 
 last who, by an accommodating complacency, would 
 participate in the guilt of her friend and there was 
 no guilt, except that of murder, which she thought 
 equal to the crime in question, if it was ever perpe- 
 trated. Adultery, reason would perhaps have in- 
 formed her, was a more pernicious evil to society ; 
 hut to a religious mind, what sound is so horrible as 
 sacrilege ? Of vows made to God or to man, the 
 former must weigh the heaviest. Moreover, the sin 
 of infidelity in the married state is not a little sof- 
 tened, to common understandings, by its frequency; 
 whereas, of religious vows broken by a devotee she 
 had never heard ; unless where the offence had been 
 followed by such examples of divine vengeance, such 
 miraculous punishments in this world (as well as 
 eternal punishment in the other), as served to ex- 
 aggerate the wickedness. 
 
 She, who could and who did pardon Miss Milner, 
 was the person who saw her passion in the severest 
 light, and resolved upon every method, however 
 harsh, to root it from her heart ; nor did she fear 
 success, resting on the certain assurance, that how- 
 ever deep her love might be fixed, it would never be
 
 A SIMPLE STORY- 81 
 
 returned. Yet this confidence did not prevent her 
 taking every precaution, lest Dorriforth should come 
 to the knowledge of it. She would not have his 
 composed mind disturbed with such a thought his 
 stedfast principles so much as shaken by the ima- 
 gination nor overwhelm him with those self-re- 
 proaches which his fatal attraction, unpremeditated 
 as it was, would still have drawn upon him. 
 
 With this plan of concealment, in which the na- 
 tural modesty of Miss Milner acquiesced, there was 
 but one effort for which this unhappy ward was not 
 prepared ; and that was an entire separation from 
 her guardian. She had, from the first, cherished 
 her passion without the most remote prospect of a 
 return : she was prepared to see Dorriforth, without 
 ever seeing him more nearly connected to her than 
 as her guardian and friend ; but not to see him at 
 all for that, she was not prepared. 
 
 But Miss Woodley reflected upon the inevitable 
 necessity of this measure before she made the pro- 
 posal, and then made it with a firmness that might 
 have done honour to the inflexibility of Dorriforth 
 himself. 
 
 During the few days that intervened between her 
 open confession, of a passion for Lord Frederick, 
 and this proposed plan of separation, the most intri- 
 cate incoherence appeared in the character of Miss 
 Milner ; and, in order to evade a marriage with him, 
 and conceal, at the same time, the shameful propen- 
 sity which lurked in her breast, she was once even 
 on the point of declaring a passion for Sir Edward 
 Ashton. 
 
 In the duel which had taken place between Lord 
 Frederick and Dorriforth, the latter had received 
 the fire of his antagonist, but positively refused to 
 return it ; by which he had kept his promise not to 
 endanger his lordship's life, and had reconciled
 
 82 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 JSandford, in great measure, to his behaviour and 
 Sandford now (his resolution once broken) no 
 longer refused entering Miss Milner's house, but 
 came whenever it was convenient, though he yet 
 avoided the mistress of it as much as possible ; or 
 showed by every word and look, when she was pre- 
 sent, that she was still less in his favour than she 
 had ever been. 
 
 He visited Dorriforth on the evening of his en- 
 gagement with Lord Frederick, and the next morn- 
 ing breakfasted with him in his own chamber; nor 
 did Miss Milner see her guardian after his first re- 
 turn from that engagement before the following 
 noon. She inquired, however, of his servant how 
 he did, and was rejoiced to hear that his wound was 
 but slight ; yet this inquiry she durst not make be- 
 fore Miss Woodley. 
 
 When Dorriforth made his appearance the next 
 day, it was evident that he had thrown from his 
 heart a load of cares ; and though they had left a 
 languor upon his face, content was in his voice, in 
 his manners, in every word and action. Far from 
 seeming to retain any resentment against his ward, 
 for the danger into which her imprudence had led 
 him, he appeared rather to pity her indiscretion, 
 and to wish to sooth the perturbation, which the 
 recollection of her own conduct had evidently raised 
 in her mind. His endeavours were successful 
 she was soothed every time he spoke to her ; and 
 had not the watchful eye of Miss Woodley stood 
 guard over her inclinations, she had plainly dis- 
 covered, that she was enraptured with the joy of 
 seeing him again himself, after the danger to which 
 he had been exposed. 
 
 These emotions, which she laboured to subdue, 
 passed, however, the bounds of her ineffectual re- 
 sistance, when, at the time of her retiring after
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 83 
 
 dinner, he said to her in a low voice, but such 
 as it was meant the company should hear, " Do 
 me the favour, Miss Milner, to call at my study 
 some time in the evening : I have to speak with 
 you upon business." 
 
 She answered, " I will, sir." And her eyes 
 swam with delight, in expectation of the interview. 
 
 Let not the reader, nevertheless, imagine, there 
 was in that ardent expectation, one idea which the 
 most spotless mind, in love, might not have indulged 
 without reproach. Sincere love (at least among 
 the delicate of the female sex) is often gratified by 
 that degree of enjoyment, or rather forbearance, 
 which would be torture in the pursuit of any other 
 passion. Real, delicate, and restrained love, such 
 as Miss Milner's, was indulged in the sight of the 
 object only ; and having bounded her wishes by her 
 hopes, the height of her happiness was limited to a 
 conversation in which no other but themselves took 
 a part. 
 
 Miss Woodley was one of those who heard the 
 appointment, but the only one who conceived with 
 what sensation it was received. 
 
 While the ladies remained in the same room with 
 Doniforth, Miss Milner had thought of little, ex- 
 cept of him. As soon as they withdrew into an- 
 other apartment, she remembered Miss Woodley ; 
 and turning her head suddenly, saw her friend's 
 face imprinted with suspicion and displeasure. This 
 at first was painful to her ; but recollecting, that 
 within a couple of hours she was to meet her guar- 
 dian alone to speak to him, and hear him speak to 
 her only : every other thought was absorbed in that 
 one, and she considered with indifference, the un- 
 easiness or the anger of her friend. 
 
 Miss Milner, to do justice to her heart, did not. 
 wish to beguile Dorriforth into the snares of love.
 
 4 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 Could any supernatural power have endowed her 
 with the means, and at the same time have shown to 
 her the ills that must arise from such an effect of 
 her charms, she had assuredly virtue enough to have 
 declined the conquest ; but without inquiring what 
 she proposed, she never saw him, without previously 
 endeavouring to look more attractive than she would 
 have desired before any other person. And now, 
 without listening to the thousand exhortations that 
 spoke in every feature of Miss Woodley, she flew to 
 a looking-glass, to adjust her dress in a manner that 
 she thought most enchanting. 
 
 Time stole away, and the time of going to her 
 guardian arrived. In his presence, unsupported by 
 the presence of any other, every grace that she had 
 practised, every look that she had borrowed to set 
 off her charms, were annihilated ; and she became 
 a native beauty, with the artless arguments of rea- 
 son, only, for her aid. Awed thus by his power, 
 from every thing but what she really was, she never 
 was perhaps half so bewitching, as in those timid, 
 respectful, and embarrassed moments she passed 
 alone with him. He caught at those times her re- 
 spect, her diffidence, nay, even her embarrassment ; 
 and never would one word of anger pass on either 
 side. 
 
 On the present occasion, he first expressed the 
 high satisfaction that she had given him, by at 
 length revealing to him the real state of her mind. 
 
 " And when I take every thing into consideration, 
 Miss Milner," added he, "I rejoice that your sen- 
 timents happen to be such as you have owned. For, 
 although my Lord Frederick is not the very man I 
 could have wished for your perfect happiness ; yet, 
 in the state of human perfection and human happi- 
 ness, you might have fixed your affections with per- 
 haps less propriety ; and still, where my unwillingness
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 85 
 
 to hate thwarted your inclinations might not have 
 permitted me to contend with them." 
 
 Not a word of reply did this speech demand ; or, 
 if it had, not a word could she have given. 
 
 " And now, madam, the reason of my desire 
 to speak with you is, to know the means you 
 think most proper to pursue, in order to acquaint 
 Lord Frederick, that notwithstanding this late 
 repulse, there are hopes of your partiality in his 
 favour." 
 
 " Defer the explanation," she replied eagerly. 
 
 " I heg your pardon it cannot be. Besides, 
 how can you indulge a disposition thus unpitying ? 
 Even so ardently did I desire to render the man 
 who loves you happy, that though he came armed 
 against my life, had I not reflected, tha|r.previous 
 to our engagement it would appear like fear, and 
 the means of bartering for his forgiveness, I should 
 have revealed your sentiments the moment I had 
 seen him. When the engagement was over, I was 
 too impatient to acquaint you with his safety, to 
 think then on gratifying him. And, indeed, the 
 delicacy of the declaration, after the many denials 
 which you have no doubt given him, should be con- 
 sidered. I therefore consult your opinion upon the 
 manner in which it shall be made." 
 
 " Mr. Dorriforth, can you allow nothing to the 
 moments of surprise, and that pity, which the fate 
 impending inspired ; and which might urge me to 
 express myself of Lord Frederick in a manner my 
 cooler thoughts will not warrant?" 
 
 " There was nothing in your expressions, my 
 dear Miss Milner, the least equivocal. If you were 
 off your guard when you pleaded for Lord Fre- 
 derick, as I believe you were, you said more sin- 
 cerely what you thought; and no discreet, or rather 
 VOL. xxvm. I
 
 86 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 indiscreet attempts to retract, can make me change 
 these sentiments." 
 
 "I am very sorry," she replied, confused and 
 trembling. 
 
 " Why sorry ? Come, give me commission to 
 reveal your partiality. I'll not be too hard upon 
 you : a hint from me will do. Hope is ever apt to 
 interpret the slightest words to its own use, and a 
 lover's hope is, beyond all others, sanguine." 
 
 " I never gave Lord Frederick hope." 
 
 " But you never plunged him into despair." 
 
 " His pursuit intimates that I never have; but he 
 has no other proof." 
 
 " However light and frivolous you have been upon 
 frivolous subjects, yet I must own, Miss Milner, 
 that 1 did expect, when a case of this importance 
 came seriously before you, you would have disco- 
 vered a proper stability in your behaviour." 
 
 " I do, sir ; and it was only when I was affected 
 with a weakness, which arose from accident, that I 
 have betrayed inconsistency." 
 
 " You then assert again, that you have no affec- 
 tion for my Lord Frederick?" 
 
 " Not enough to become his wife." 
 
 " You are alarmed at marriage, and I do not 
 wonder you should be so : it shows a prudent fore- 
 sight which does you honour. But, my dear, are 
 there no dangers in a single state ? If I may judge, 
 Miss Milner, there are many more to a young lady 
 of your accomplishments, than if you were under 
 the protection of a husband." 
 
 " My father, Mr. Dorriforth, thought your pro- 
 tection sufficient." 
 
 " But that protection was rather to direct your 
 choice, than to be the cause of your not choosing 
 at all. Give me leave to point out an observation
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 87 
 
 which, perhaps, I have too frequently made before ; 
 but upon this occasion I must intrude it once 
 again. Miss Fenton is its object: her fortune is 
 inferior to yours ; her personal attractions are 
 less" 
 
 Here the powerful glow of joy, and of gratitude, 
 for an opinion so negligently, and yet so sincerely 
 expressed, flew to Miss Milner's face, neck, and 
 even to her hands and lingers : the blood mounted 
 to every part of her skin that was visible, for not a 
 flbre but felt the secret transport that Dorriforth 
 thought her more beautiful than the beautiful Miss 
 Fenton. 
 
 If he observed her blushes, he was unsuspicious 
 of the cause, and went on : 
 
 " There is, besides, in the temper of Miss Fenton, 
 a sedateness that might with less hazard ensure her 
 safety in an unmarried life ; and yet she very pro- 
 perly thinks it her duty, as she does not mean to 
 seclude herself by any vows to the contrary, to be- 
 come a wife ; and, in obedience to the counsel of 
 her friends, will be married within a very few 
 weeks." 
 
 " Miss Fenton may marry from obedience : I 
 never will." 
 
 " You mean to say, that love shall alone induce 
 you." 
 
 " I do." 
 
 " If you would point out a subject upon which I 
 am the least able to reason, and on which my sen- 
 timents, such as they are, are formed only from 
 theory, and even there more cautioned than in- 
 structed, it is the subject of love. And yet, even 
 that little which I know, tells me, without a doubt, 
 that what you said yesterday, pleading for Lord 
 Frederick's life, was the result of the most violent 
 and tender love." 
 
 I 2
 
 88 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " The little you know, then, Mr. Dorriforth, has 
 deceived you. Had you known more, you would 
 have judged otherwise." 
 
 " 1 submit to the merit of your reply ; but with- 
 out allowing me a judge at all, I will appeal to those 
 who were present with me." 
 
 " Are Mrs. Horton and Mr. Sandford to be the 
 connoisseurs?" 
 
 " No: I'll appeal to MissFenton and MissVVood- 
 
 le y-" 
 
 " And yet, I believe," replied she with a smile, 
 " I believe theory must only be the judge even 
 there." 
 
 " Then, from all you have said, madam, on this 
 occasion, I am to conclude that you still refuse to 
 marry Lord Frederick V 
 
 " You are." 
 
 " And you submit never to see him again?" 
 
 " I do." 
 
 " All you then said to me yesterday was false?" 
 
 " I was not mistress of myself at the time." 
 
 " Therefore it was truth ! For shame, for shame ! " 
 
 At that moment the door opened, and Mr. Sand- 
 ford walked in. He started back on seeing Miss 
 Milner, and was going away ; but Dorriforth called 
 to him to stay, and said with warmth, 
 
 " Tell me, Mr. Sandford, by what power, by what 
 persuasion, I can prevail upon Miss Milner to con- 
 fide in me as her friend ; to lay her heart open, and 
 credit mine when I declare to her that I have no 
 view in all the advice I give to her, but her imme- 
 diate welfare." 
 
 " Mr. Dorriforth, you know my opinion of that 
 lady," replied Sandford : " it has been formed ever 
 since my first acquaintance with her, and it con- 
 tinues the same." 
 
 " But instruct me how I am to inspire her with
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 89 
 
 confidence," returned Dorriforth ; " how I am to 
 impress her with a sense of that which is for her 
 advantage." 
 
 " You can work no miracles," replied Sandford : 
 " you are not holy enough." 
 
 "And yet my ward," answered Dorriforth, " ap- 
 pears to be acquainted with that mystery ; for what 
 but the force of a miracle can induce her to contra- 
 dict to-day what before you, and several other wit- 
 nesses, she positively acknowledged yesterday ? " 
 
 " Do you call that miraculous 1 " cried Sandford : 
 '* the miracle had been if she had not done so for 
 did she not yesterday contradict what she acknow- 
 ledged the day before? and will she not to-morrow 
 disavow what she says to-day ? " 
 
 " I wish that she may," replied Dorriforth, 
 mildly ; for he saw the tears flowing down her face 
 at the rough and severe manner in which Sandford 
 had spoken, and he began to feel for her uneasiness. 
 
 " I beg pardon," cried Sandford, " for speaking 
 so rudely to the mistress of the house. I have no 
 business here, I know; but where you are, Mr. Dor- 
 riforth, unless 1 am turned out, I shall always think 
 it my duty to come." 
 
 Miss Milner curtsied, as much as to say he was 
 welcome to come. He continued, 
 
 " I was to blame, that upon a nice punctilio, I 
 left you so long without my visits, and without my 
 counsel : in that time, you have run the hazard of 
 being murdered, and, what is worse, of being ex- 
 communicated ; for had you been so rash as to have 
 returned your opponent's tire, not all my interest 
 at Rome would have obtained remission of the 
 punishment." 
 
 Miss Milner, through all her tears, could not now 
 restrain her laughter. On which he resumed : 
 
 " And here do 1 venture, like a missionary among 
 i 3
 
 90 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 savages ; but if 1 can only save you from their 
 scalping" knives from the miseries which that lady 
 is preparing for you I am rewarded." 
 
 Sandford spoke this with great fervour; and the 
 offence of her love never appeared to her in so tre- 
 mendous a point of view, as when thus, unknow- 
 ingly, alluded to by him. 
 
 " The miseries that lady is preparing for you," 
 hung upon her ears like the notes of a raven, and 
 sounded equally ominous. The words " murder" 
 and " tx communication " he had likewise uttered ; 
 all the fatal effects of sacrilegious love. Frightful 
 superstitions struck her to the heart, and she could 
 scarcely prevent falling down under their oppres- 
 sion. 
 
 Dorriforth beheld the difficulty she had in sus- 
 taining herself, and with the utmost tenderness 
 went towards her; and, supporting her, said, " 1 
 beg your pardon ; I invited you hither with a far 
 different intention than your uneasiness ; and be 
 assured " 
 
 Sandford was beginning to speak, when Dorri- 
 forth resumed " Hold, Mr. Sandford : the lady is 
 under my protection ; and I know not whether it is 
 not requisite that you should apologize to her, and 
 to me, for what you have already said." 
 
 " You asked my opinion, or I had not given it 
 you : would you have me, like her, speak what 1 do 
 not think ?" 
 
 " Say no more, sir," cried Dorriforth ; and, lead- 
 ing her kindly to the door, as if to defend her from 
 his malice, told her, " he would take another op- 
 portunity of renewing the subject."
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 1)1 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 WHEN Dorriforth was alone with Sandford, he ex- 
 plained to him what before he had only hinted ; and 
 this learned Jesuit frankly confessed, " That the 
 mind of woman was far above, or rather beneath, 
 his comprehension." It was so indeed ; for with 
 all his penetration, and few even of that school had 
 more, he had not yet penetrated into the recesses 
 of Miss Milner's mind. 
 
 Miss Wood ley, to whom she repeated all that had 
 passed between herself, her guardian, and Sandford, 
 took this moment, in the agitation of her spirits, to 
 alarm her still more by prophetic insinuations ; and 
 at length represented to her here, for the first time, 
 the necessity, " That Mr. Dorriforth and she no 
 longer should remain under the same roof." This 
 was like the stroke of sudden death to Miss Milner ; 
 and, clinging to life, she endeavoured to avert the 
 blow by prayers, and by promises. Her friend 
 loved her too sincerely to be prevailed upon. 
 
 " But in what manner can I accomplish the sepa- 
 ration?" cried she : " for, till I marry, we are obliged, 
 by my father's request, to live in the same house." 
 
 " Miss Milner," answered Miss Woodley, " much 
 as I respect the will of a dying man, I regard your 
 and Mr. Doiriforth's present and eternal happiness 
 much more ; and it is my resolution that you shall 
 part. If you will not contrive the means, that duty 
 falls on me ; and without any invention, I see the 
 measure at once." 
 
 " What is it?" cried Miss Milner, eagerly. 
 
 " I will reveal to Mr. Dorriforth, without hesi- 
 tation, the real state of your heart ; which your 
 present inconsistency of conduct will but too readily 
 confirm."
 
 92 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " You would not plunge me into so much shame, 
 into so much anguish ! " cried she, distractedly. 
 
 " No," replied Miss Woodley, " not for the world, 
 if you will separate from him by any mode of your 
 own : but that you shall separate is my determina- 
 tion ; and in spite of all your sufferings, this shall be 
 the expedient, unless you instantly agree to some 
 other." 
 
 " Good Heaven, Miss Woodley ! is this your 
 friendship 'I " 
 
 " Yes and the truest friendship I have to be 
 stow. Think what a task 1 undertake for your sake 
 and his, when I condemn myself to explain to him 
 your weakness. What astonishment ! what confu- 
 sion ! what remorse do I foresee painted upon his 
 face ! I hear him call you by the harshest names, 
 and behold him fly from your sight for ever, as from 
 an object of his detestation." 
 
 " Oh, spare the dreadful picture ! Fly from my 
 sight for ever ! Detest my name ! Oh, my dear 
 Miss Woodley ! let but his friendship for me still 
 remain, and 1 will consent to any thing. You may 
 command me. I will go away from him directly ; 
 but let us part in friendship. Oh ! without the 
 friendship of Mr. Dorriforth, life would be a heavy 
 burthen indeed." 
 
 Miss Woodley immediately began to contrive 
 schemes for their separation ; and, with all her in- 
 vention alive on the subject, the following was the 
 only natural one that she could form. 
 
 Miss Milner, in a letter to her distant relation at 
 Bath, was to complain of the melancholy of a coun- 
 try life, which she was to say her guardian imposed 
 upon her ; and she was to entreat the lady to send a 
 pressing invitation that she would pass a month or 
 two at her house : this invitation was to be laid be- 
 fore Dorriforth for his approbation ; and the two
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 03 
 
 ladies were to enforce it, by expressing their earnest 
 wishes for his consent. This plan having been pro- 
 perly regulated, the necessary letter was sent to 
 Bath, and Miss Woodley waited with patience, but 
 with a watchful guard upon the conduct of her 
 friend, till the answer should arrive. 
 
 During this interim a tender and complaining 
 epistle from Lord Frederick was delivered to Miss 
 Milner ; to which, as he received no answer, he pre- 
 vailed upon his uncle, with whom he resided, to wait 
 upon her, and obtain a verbal reply ; for he still 
 flattered himself, that fear of her guardian's anger, 
 or perhaps his interception of the letter which he 
 had sent, was the sole cause of her apparent indif- 
 ference. 
 
 The old gentleman was introduced both to Miss 
 Milner and to Mr. Dorriforth; but received from 
 each an answer so explicit, that it left his nephew no 
 longer in doubt but that all farther pursuit was vain. 
 
 Sir Edward Ashton, about this time, also sub- 
 mitted to a formal dismission ; and had then the 
 mortification to reflect, that he was bestowing upon 
 the object of his affections the tenderest proof of 
 his regard by having absented himself entirely 
 from her society. 
 
 Upon this serious and certain conclusion to the 
 hopes of Lord Frederick, Dorriforth was more as- 
 tonished than ever at the conduct of his ward. He 
 had once thought her behaviour in this respect was 
 ambiguous; but since her confession of a passion for 
 that nobleman, he had no doubt but in the end she 
 would become his wife. He lamented to find him- 
 self mistaken, and thought it proper now to condemn 
 her caprice, not merely in words, but in the general 
 tenor of his behaviour. He consequently became 
 more reserved, and more austere than he had been 
 since his first acquaintance with her ; for his man-
 
 94 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 ners, not from design, but imperceptibly to himself, 
 had been softened since he became her guardian, by 
 that tender respect which he had uniformly paid to 
 the object of his protection. 
 
 Notwithstanding the severity he now assumed, 
 his ward, in the prospect of parting from him, grew 
 melancholy ; Miss Woodley's love to her friend ren- 
 dered her little otherwise ; and Dorriforth's peculiar 
 gravity, frequently rigour, could not but make their 
 whole party less cheerful than it had been. Lord 
 Elmwood too, at this time, was lying dangerously ill 
 of a fever ; Miss Fenton, of course, was as much in 
 sorrow as her nature would permit her to be ; and 
 both Sandford and Dorriforth were in extreme con- 
 cern upon his lordship's account. 
 
 In this posture of affairs, the letter of invitation 
 arrives from Lady Luneham at Bath. It Mas shown 
 to Dorriforth ; and, to prove to his ward that he is so 
 much offended as no longer to feel that excessive 
 interest in her concerns which he once felt, he gives 
 an opinion on the subject with indifference : he de- 
 sires " Miss Milner will do what she herself thinks 
 proper." Miss Woodley instantly accepts this per- 
 mission, writes back, and appoints the day upon 
 which her friend means to set off for the visit. 
 
 Miss Milner is wounded at the heart by the cold 
 and unkind manners of her guardian, but dares not 
 take one step to retrieve his opinion. Alone, or to 
 her friend, she sighs and weeps : he discovers her 
 sorrow, and is doubtful whether the departure of 
 Lord Frederick from that part of the country is not 
 the cause. 
 
 When the time she was to set out for Bath was 
 only two days off, the behaviour of Dorriforth took, 
 by degrees, its usual form, if not a greater share of 
 polite and tender attention than ever. It was the 
 first time he had parted from Miss Milner since he
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 05 
 
 became her guardian, and he felt upon the occasion, 
 a reluctance. He had been angry with her, he had 
 shown her that he was so, and he now began to wish 
 that he had not. She is not happy (he considered 
 within himself) : every word and action declares she 
 is not: I may have been too severe, and added per- 
 haps to her uneasiness. " At least we will part on 
 good terms," said he. " Indeed, my regard for her 
 is such, I cannot part otherwise." 
 
 She soon discerned his returning kindness, and it 
 was a gentle tie that would have fastened her to that 
 spot for ever, but for the firm resistance of Miss 
 Woodley. 
 
 " What will the absence of a few months effect ?" 
 said she, pleading her own cause. " At the end of a 
 few months at farthest, he will expect me back ; and 
 where then will be the merit of this separation ?" 
 
 " In that time," replied Miss Woodley, " we 
 may find some method to make it longer." To this 
 she listened with a kind of despair, but uttered, she 
 was " resigned," and she prepared for her depar- 
 ture. 
 
 Dorriforth was all anxiety that every circumstance 
 of her journey should be commodious: he was eager 
 she should be happy ; and he was eager she should 
 see that he entirely forgave her. He would have 
 gone part of the way with her, but for the extreme 
 illness of Lord Elmwood, in whose chamber he pass- 
 ed most of the day, and slept in Elmwood House 
 every night. 
 
 On the morning of her journey, when Dorriforth 
 gave his hand and conducted Miss Milner to the 
 carriage, all the way he led her she could not re- 
 strain her tears; which increased, as he parted from 
 her, to convulsive sobs. He was affected by her 
 grief; and though he had previously bid her fare- 
 well, he drew her gently on one side, and said, with
 
 96* A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 the tenderest concern, " My dear Miss Milner, we 
 part friends? I hope we do. OnJmy side, depend 
 upon it, that I regret nothing so much at our sepa- 
 ration, as having ever given you a moment's pain." 
 
 " I believe so," was all she could utter ; for she 
 hastened from him lest his discerning eye should 
 discover the cause of the weakness which thus over- 
 came her. But her apprehensions were groundless : 
 the rectitude of his own heart was a har to the sus- 
 picion of hers. He once more kindly bade her 
 adieu, and the carriage drove away. 
 
 Miss Fenton and Miss Woodley accompanied her 
 part of the journey, ahout thirty miles, where they 
 were met by Sir Henry and Lady Luneham. Here 
 was a parting nearly as affecting as that between 
 her and her guardian. 
 
 Miss Woodley, who, for several weeks, had treat- 
 ed her friend with a rigidness she herself hardly 
 supposed was in her nature, now bewailed that she 
 had done so ; implored her forgiveness; promised 
 to correspond with her punctually, and to omit 
 no opportunity of giving her every consolation short 
 of cherishing her fatal passion but in that, and that 
 only, was the heart of Miss Milner to be consoled. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 When Miss Milner arrived at Bath, she thought 
 it the most altered place she had ever seen. She 
 was mistaken : it was herself that was changed. 
 
 The walks were melancholy, the company insipid, 
 the ball room fatiguing : for she had left behind 
 all that could charm or please her. 
 
 Though she found herself much less happy than 
 when she was at Bath before, yet she felt that she
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 97 
 
 would not, even to enjoy all that past happiness, be 
 again reduced to the being she was at that period. 
 Thus does the lover consider the extinction of his 
 passion with the same horror as the libertine looks 
 upon annihilation : the one would rather live here- 
 after, though in all the tortures described as consti- 
 tuting his future state, than cease to exist ; so, there 
 are no tortures which a lover would not suffer, rather 
 than cease to love. 
 
 In the wide prospect of sadness before her, Miss 
 Milner's fancy caught hold of the only comfort 
 which presented itself; and this, faint as it was, in 
 the total absence of every other, her imagination 
 painted to her as excessive. The comfort was a 
 letter from Miss Woodley a letter, in which the 
 subject of her love would most assuredly be men- 
 tioned ; and, in whatever terms, it would still be the 
 means of delight. 
 
 A letter arrived she devoured it with her eyes. 
 The post mark denoting from whence it came, 
 the name of " Milner Lodge" written on the top, 
 were all sources of pleasure ; and she read slowly 
 every line it contained, to procrastinate the pleasing 
 expectation she enjoyed, till she should arrive at the 
 name of Dorriforth. At last, her impatient eye 
 caught the word, three lines beyond the place she 
 was' reading: irresistibly, she skipped over those 
 lines, and fixed on the point to which she was 
 attracted. 
 
 Miss Woodley was cautious in her indulgence; she 
 made the slightest mention possible of Dorriforth ; 
 saying only, " He was extremely concerned, and even 
 dejected, at the little hope there was of his cousin 
 Lord Elmwood's recovery." Short and trivial as 
 this passage was, it was still more important to Miss 
 Milner than any other in the letter : she read it 
 again and again, considered, and reflected upon it. 
 
 VOL. XXVIII. K
 
 98 A SIMFLE STORY. 
 
 Dejected ! thoughtshe : what does that word exactly 
 mean ? Did I ever see Mr. Dorriforth dejected ( 
 How, I wonder, does he look in that state ? Thus 
 did she muse, while the cause of his dejection, 
 though a most serious one, and pathetically des- 
 cribed by Miss Woodley, scarcely arrested her at- 
 tention. She ran over with haste the account of 
 Lord Elmwood's state of health : she certainly 
 pitied him while she thought of him, but she did 
 not think of him long. To die, was a hard fate for 
 a young nobleman just in possession of his immense 
 fortune and on the eve of marriage with a beautiful 
 young woman ; but Miss Milner thought that an 
 abode in heaven might be still better than all this, 
 and she had no doubt but that his lordship would be 
 an inhabitant there. The forlorn state of Miss 
 Fenton ought to have been a subject for her com- 
 passion ; but she knew that lady had resignation to 
 bear any lot with patience, and that a trial of her 
 fortitude might be more flattering to her vanity 
 than to be Countess of Elmwood : in a word, she 
 saw no one's misfortunes equal to her own, because 
 she knew no one so little able to bear misfortune. 
 
 She replied to Miss Woodley's letter, and dvvelt 
 very long on that subject which her friend had passed 
 over lightly. This was another indulgence : and this 
 epistolary intercourse was now the only enjoyment 
 she possessed. From Bath she paid several visits 
 with Lady Luneham : all were alike tedious and 
 melancholy. 
 
 But her guardian wrote to her; and though it was 
 on atopic of sorrow, the letter gave her joy. The 
 sentiments it expressed were merely common-place, 
 yet she valued them as the dearest effusions of 
 friendship and affection ; and her hands trembled, 
 and her heart beat with rapture while she wrote the 
 answer, though she knew it would not be received
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 1)9 
 
 by him with one emotion like those which she ex- 
 perienced. In her second letter to Miss Woodley, 
 she prayed like a person insane to be taken home 
 from confinement, and, like a lunatic, protested in 
 sensible language, she " had no disorder." But her 
 friend replied, " That very declaration proves its 
 violence." And she assured her, nothing less than 
 placing her affections elsewhere should induce her 
 to believe but that she was incurable. 
 
 The third letter from Milner Lodge brought the 
 news of Lord Elmwood's death. Miss Woodley was 
 exceedingly affected by this event, and said little 
 else on any other subject. Miss Milner was shocked 
 when she read the words " He is dead," and in- 
 stantly thought, 
 
 " How transient are all sublunary things ! Within 
 a few years / shall be dead ; and how happy will it 
 then be, if I have resisted every temptation to the 
 alluring pleasures of this life !" The happiness of a 
 peaceful death, occupied her contemplation for near 
 an hour ; but at length, every virtuous and pious 
 sentiment this meditation inspired served but to re- 
 mind her of the many sentences she had heard from 
 her guardian's lips upon the same subject : her 
 thoughts were again fixed on him, and she could 
 think of nothing besides. 
 
 In a short time after this, her health became im- 
 paired from the indisposition of her mind : she lan- 
 guished, and was once in imminent danger. During 
 a slight delirium of her fever, Miss Woodley 's name 
 and her guardian's were incessantly repeated. Lady 
 Luneham sent them immediate word of this ; and 
 they both hastened to Bath, and arrived there just 
 as the violence and danger of her disorder had 
 ceased. As soon as she became perfectly recollect- 
 ed, her first care, knowing the frailty of her heart, 
 was to inquire what she had uttered while delirous. 
 K 2
 
 100 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 Miss Woodley, who was by her bed side, begged 
 her not to be alarmed on that account, and assured 
 her she knew, from all her attendants, that she had 
 only spoken with a friendly remembrance (as was 
 really the case) of those persons who were dear to her. 
 
 She wished to know whether her guardian was 
 come to see her, but she had not the courage to ask 
 before her friend ; and she in her turn was afraid by 
 the too sudden mention of his name, to discompose 
 her. Her maid, however, after some little time, 
 entered the chamber, and whispered Miss Woodley. 
 Miss Milner asked inquisitively, " what she said." 
 
 The maid replied softly, " Lord Elmwood, madam 
 wishes to come and see you for a few moments, if 
 you will allow him." 
 
 At this reply Miss Milner stared wildly. 
 
 " I thought," said she, " I thought Lord Elm- 
 wood had been dead. Are my senses disordered 
 still ?" 
 
 " No, my dear," answered Miss Woodley : " it is 
 the present Lord Elmwood who wishes to see you : 
 he whom you left ill when you came hither is dead." 
 
 " And who is the present Lord Elmwood V she 
 asked. 
 
 Miss Woodley, after a short hesitation, replied 
 " Your guardian." 
 
 " And so he is," cried Miss Milner: "he is the 
 next heir I had forgot. But is it possible that he 
 is here ?" 
 
 " Yes " returned Miss Woodley with a grave 
 voice and manner, to moderate that glow of satis- 
 faction which for a moment sparkled even in her 
 languid eye, and blushed over her pallid countenance 
 " Yes ; as he heard you were ill, he thought it 
 right to come and see you." 
 
 " He is very good," she answered, and the teat- 
 started in her eyes.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 101 
 
 " Would you please to see his lordship '?" asked 
 her maid. 
 
 " Not yet, not yet," she replied : " let me recol- 
 lect myself first." And she looked with a timid 
 doubt upon her friend, to ask if it was proper. 
 
 Miss Woodley could hardly support this humble 
 reference to her judgment, from the wan face of the 
 poor invalid, and taking her by the hand, whispered, 
 " You shall do what you please." In a few minutes 
 Lord Elmwood was introduced. 
 
 To those who sincerely love, every change of 
 situation or circumstances in the object beloved, 
 appears an advantage. So the acquisition of a title 
 and estate was, in Miss Milner's eye, an inestimable 
 advantage to her guardian ; not on account of their 
 real value; but that any change, instead of diminish- 
 ing her passion, would have served only to increase 
 it, even a change to the utmost poverty. 
 
 When he entered, the sight of him seemed to be 
 too much for her ; and after the first glance she 
 turned her head away. The sound of his voice en- 
 couraged her to look once more ; and then she ri' 
 etted her eyes upon him. 
 
 " It is impossible, my dear Miss Milner," he 
 gently whispered, " to say, what joy I feel that your 
 disorder has subsided/ 
 
 But though it was impossible to say, it was pos- 
 sible to look what he felt, and his looks expressed 
 his feelings. In the zeal of those sensations, he laid 
 hold of her hand, and held it between his : this he 
 did not himself know ; but she did. 
 
 " You have prayed for me, my lord, I make no 
 doubt," said she, and smiled, as if thanking him for 
 those prayers. 
 
 " Fervently, ardently !" returned he ; and the 
 fervency with which he had prayed spoke in every 
 feature. 
 
 K 3
 
 102 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " But I am a Protestant, you know ; and if I had 
 died such, do you believe I should have gone to 
 heaven V 
 
 " Most assuredly, that would not have prevented 
 you." 
 
 "But Mr. Sandford does not think so." 
 " He must; for he hopes to go there himself." 
 To keep her guardian with her, Miss Milnrr 
 seemed inclined to converse ; but her solicitous 
 friend gave Lord Elmwood a look which implied 
 that it might be injurious to her, and he retired. 
 
 They had only one more interview before he left 
 the place ; at which Miss Milner was capable of 
 sitting up. He was with her, however, but a very 
 short time, some necessary concerns relative to 
 his late kinsman's affairs calling him in haste 
 to London. Miss Woodley continued with her 
 friend till she saw her entirely reinstated in her 
 health : during which time her guardian was fre- 
 quently the subject of their private conversation ; 
 and upon those occasions Miss Milner has some- 
 times brought Miss Woodley to acknowledge, " that 
 could Mr. Dorriforth have possibly foreseen the 
 early death of the last Lord Elmwood, it had been 
 more for the honour of his religion (as that ancient 
 title would now after him become extinct), if he had 
 preferred marriage vows to those of celibacy." 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 When the time for Miss Woodley's departure ar- 
 rived, Miss Milner entreated earnestly to accompany 
 her home, and made the most solemn promises that 
 she would guard not only her behaviour, but her 
 very thoughts, within the limitation her friend should 
 prescribe. Miss Woodley at length yielded thus far,
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. J 03 
 
 " That as soon as Lord Elinwood was set out on his 
 journey to Italy, where she had heard him say that 
 he should soon be obliged to go, she would no longer 
 deny her the pleasure of returning ; and it" (after 
 the long absence which must consequently take place 
 between him and her) she could positively affirm 
 the suppression of her passion was the happy result, 
 she would then take her word, and risk the danger 
 of seeing them once more reside together." 
 
 This concession having been obtained, they, 
 parted ; and, as winter was now far advanced, Miss 
 Wood ley returned to her aunt's house in town, from 
 whence Mrs. Horton was, however, preparing to 
 remove in order to superintend Lord Elmwood's 
 house (which had been occupied by the late earl), 
 in Grosvenor Square ; and her niece was to accom- 
 pany her. 
 
 If Lord Elmwood was not desirous that Miss 
 Milner should conclude her visit and return to his 
 protection, it was partly from the multiplicity of 
 affairs in which he was at this time engaged, and 
 partly from having Mr. Sandford now entirely placed 
 with him as his chaplain ; for he dreaded, that living 
 in the same house, their natural antipathy might be 
 increased even to aversion. Upon this account, he 
 once thought of advising Mr. Sandford to take up 
 his abode elsewhere ; but the great pleasure he took 
 in his society, joined to the bitter mortification he 
 knew such a proposal would be to his friend, would 
 not suffer him to make it. 
 
 Miss Milner all this time was not thinking upon 
 those she hated, but on those she loved. Sandford 
 never came into her thoughts, while the image of 
 Lord Elmwood never left them. One morning, as 
 she sat talking to Lady Luncham on various subjects, 
 but thinking alone on him, Sir Harry Luneham, with 
 another gentleman, a Mr. Fleetrnond, came in, and
 
 104 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 the conversation turned upon the improbability there 
 had been, at the present Lord Elmwood's birth, 
 that he should ever inherit the title and estate which 
 had now fallen to him and, said Mr. Fleetmond, 
 " Independent of rank and fortune, this unexpected 
 occurrence must be matter of infinite joy to Mr. 
 Dorriforth." 
 
 " No," answered Sir Harry, " independent of 
 rank and fortune, it must be a motive of concern to 
 him ; for he must now regret, beyond measure, his 
 folly in taking priest's orders ; thus depriving himself 
 of the hopes of an heir, so that his title, at his death, 
 will be lost." 
 
 " By no means," replied Mr. Fleetmond ; " he 
 may yet have an heir, for he will certainly marry." 
 
 " Marry !" cried the baronet. 
 
 " Yes," answered the other; " it was that I meant 
 by the joy it might probably give him, beyond the 
 possession of his estate and title." 
 
 " How be married?" said Lady Luneham. " Has 
 he not taken a vow never to marry V 
 
 " Yes," answered Mr. Fleetmond ; " but there are 
 no religious vows from which the sovereign pontiff 
 at Rome cannot grant a dispensation : as those 
 commandments which are made by the Church, the 
 Church has always the power to revoke ; and when 
 it is for the general good of religion, his holiness 
 thinks it incumbent on him to publish his bull, and 
 remit all penalties for their non-observance. Cer- 
 tainly it is for the honour of the Catholics, that this 
 earldom should continue in a catholic family. In 
 short, I'll venture to lay a wager, my Lord Ehnwood 
 is married within a year." 
 
 Miss Milner, who listened with attention, feared 
 she was in a dream, or deceived by the pretended 
 knowledge of Mr. Fleetmond, who might know no- 
 thing: yet all that he had said was very probable;
 
 A SIMPLE STOftY. 10S 
 
 and he was himself a Roman Catholic, so that he 
 must be well informed on the subject upon which 
 he spoke. If she had heard the direst news that 
 ever sounded in the ear of the most susceptible of 
 mortals, the agitation of her mind and person could 
 not have been stronger : she felt, while every word 
 was speaking, a chill through all her veins a plea- 
 sure too exquisite, not to bear along with it the 
 sensation of exquisite pain ; of which she was so 
 sensible, that for a few moments it made her wish 
 that she had not heard the intelligence ; though, 
 very soon after, she would not but have heard it for 
 the world. 
 
 As soon as she had recovered from her first asto- 
 nishment and joy, she wrote to JVliss Woodley an 
 exact account of what she had heard, and received 
 this answer : 
 
 " I am sorry any body should have given you this 
 piece of information, because it was a task in exe- 
 cuting which I had promised myself extreme satis- 
 faction : but from the fear that your health was not 
 yet strong enough to support, without some danger, 
 the burthen of hopes which I knew would, upon this 
 occasion, press upon you, I deferred my communi- 
 cation, and it has been anticipated. Yet, as you 
 seem in doubt as to the reality of what you have 
 been told, perhaps this confirmation of it may fall 
 very little short of the first news; especially when 
 it is enforced by my request, that you will come to 
 us, as soon as you can with propriety leave Lady 
 Luneham. 
 
 " Come, my dear Miss Milner, and find in your 
 once rigid monitor a faithful confidante. I will no 
 longer threaten to disclose a secret you have trusted 
 me with, but leave it to the wisdom or sensibility of 
 his heart (who is now to penetrate into the hearts 
 of our sex, in search of one that mav beat in unison
 
 106 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 with his own) to find the secret out. I no longer 
 condemn, but congratulate you on your passion ; 
 and will assist you with all my advice and my earnest 
 wishes, that it may obtain a return." 
 
 This letter was another of those excruciating- 
 pleasures, that almost reduced Miss Milner to the 
 grave. Her appetite forsook her ; and she vainly 
 endeavoured for several nights to close her eyes. 
 She thought so much upon the prospect of accom- 
 plishing her hopes, that she could admit no other 
 idea ; not even invent one probable excuse for leav- 
 ing Lady Luneham before the appointed time, which 
 was then at the distance of two months. She wrote 
 to Miss Woodley to beg her contrivance, to reproach 
 her for keeping the intelligence so long from her, 
 and to thank her for having revealed it in so kind a 
 manner at last. She begged also to be acquainted 
 how Mr. Dorriforth (for still she called him by that 
 name) spoke and thought of this sudden change in 
 his prospects. 
 
 Miss Woodley 's reply was a summons for her to 
 town upon some pretended business, which she 
 avoided explaining, but which entirely silenced Lady 
 Luneham's entreaties for her stay. 
 
 To her question concerning Lord Elmwood she 
 answered, " It is a subject on which he seldom 
 speaks : he appears just the same he ever did ; nor 
 could you by any part of his conduct conceive that 
 any such change had taken place." Miss Milner 
 exclaimed to herself, " I am glad he is not altered. 
 If his words, looks, or manners, were any thing 
 different from what they formerly were, I should 
 not like him so well." And just the reverse would 
 have been the case, had Miss Woodley sent her 
 word he was changed. The day for her leaving 
 Bath was fixed : she expected it with rapture ; but 
 before its arrival, she sunk under the care of expecta-
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 107 
 
 tion ; and when it came, was so much indisposed, 
 as to be obliged to defer her journey for a week. 
 
 At length she found herself in London in the 
 house of her guardian and that guardian no longer 
 bound to a single life, but enjoined to marry. He 
 appeared in her eyes, as in Miss Woodley's, the 
 same as ever ; or perhaps more endearing than ever, 
 as it was the first time she had beheld him with 
 hope. Mr. Sandford did not appear the same ; yet 
 he was in reality as surly and as disrespectful in his 
 behaviour to her as usual ; but she did not observe, 
 or she did not feel his morose temper as heretofore 
 he seemed amiable, mild, and gentle ; at least 
 this was the happy medium through which her self- 
 complacent mind began to see him : for good-hu- 
 mour, like the jaundice, makes every one of its own 
 complexion. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Lord Elmwood was preparing to go abroad, for the 
 purpose of receiving in form the dispensation from 
 his vows : it was, however, a subject he seemed 
 carefully to avoid speaking upon ; and when by any 
 accident he was obliged to mention it, it was without 
 any marks either of satisfaction or concern. 
 
 Miss Milner's pride began to be alarmed. While 
 he was Mr. Dorriforth, and confined to a single life, 
 his indifference to her charms was rather an honour- 
 able than a reproachful trait in his character; and in 
 reality, she admired him for the insensibility. But 
 on the eve of being at liberty, and on the eve of 
 making his choice, she was offended that choice was 
 not immediately fixed upon her. She had been ac-
 
 108 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 customed to receive the devotion -of every man who 
 saw her; and not to obtain it of the man from whom, 
 of all others, she most wished it, was cruelly humi- 
 liating. She complained to Miss Woodley, who 
 advised her to have patience ; but that was one of 
 the virtues in which she was least practised. 
 
 Nevertheless, encouraged by her friend in the 
 commendable desire of gaining the affections of 
 him, who possessed all her own, she left no means 
 unattempted for the conquest ; but she began with 
 i.00 great a certainty of success, not to be sensible 
 ol the deepest mortification in the disappointment ; 
 nay, she now anticipated disappointment, as she had 
 before anticipated success ; by turns feeling the 
 keenest emotions from hope and from despair. 
 
 As these passions alternately governed her, she 
 was alternately in spirits or dejected ; in good or in 
 ill humour ; and the vicissitudes of her prospect at 
 length gave to her behaviour an air of caprice, which 
 not all her follies had till now produced. This was 
 not the way to secure the affections of Lord Elm- 
 wood : she knew it was not ; and before him she was 
 under some restriction. Sandford observed this, 
 and without reserve, added to the list of her other 
 failings hypocrisy. It was plain to see that Mr. 
 Sandford esteemed her less and less every day ; and 
 as he was the person who most influenced the opi- 
 nion of her guardian, he became, to her, very soon, 
 an object not merely of dislike, but of abhorrence. 
 
 These mutual sentiments were discoverable in 
 every word and action, while they were in each 
 other's company ; but still in his absence, Miss 
 Milner's good nature, and total freedom from malice, 
 never suffered her to utter a sentence injurious to 
 his interest. Sandford's charity did not extend thus 
 far ; and speaking of her with severity one evening
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 101) 
 
 while she was at the opera, " his meaning," as he 
 said, " but to caution her guardian against her 
 faults," Lord Elmwood replied, 
 
 " There is one fault, however, Mr. Sandford, I 
 cannot lay to her charge." 
 
 *' And what is that, my lord ?" cried Sandford, 
 eagerly. " What is that one fault which Miss Milner 
 has not?" 
 
 " I never," replied Lord Elmwood, " heard Miss 
 Milner, in your absence, utter a syllable to your 
 disadvantage." 
 
 " She dares not, my lord, because she is in fear 
 of you ; and she knows you would not suffer it." 
 
 " She then," answered his lordship, " pays me a 
 much higher compliment than you do ; for you 
 freely censure her, and yet imagine I will suffer 
 it." 
 
 " My lord," replied Sandford, " I am undeceived 
 now, and shall never take that liberty again." 
 
 As Lord Elmwood always treated Sandford with 
 the utmost respect, he began to fear he had been 
 deficient upon this occasion ; and the disposition 
 which had induced him to take his ward's part was 
 likely, in the end, to prove unfavourable to her : for 
 perceiving that Sandford was offended at what had 
 passed, as the only means of atonement, he began 
 himself to lament her volatile and captious propen- 
 sities ; in which lamentation, Sandford, now forget- 
 ting his affront, joined with the heartiest concur- 
 rence, adding, 
 
 " You, sir, having at present other cares to employ 
 your thoughts, ought to insist upon her marrying, 
 or retiring wholly into the country." 
 
 She returned home just as this conversation was 
 finished ; and Sandford, the moment she entered, 
 rang for his candle to retire. Miss Woodley, who 
 had beeu at the opera with Miss Milner, cried, 
 
 VOL. XXVIII. L
 
 J10 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " Bless me! Mr. Sandford, are you not well, you 
 are going to leave us so early?" 
 
 He replied, " No : I have a pain in my head." 
 
 Miss Milner, who never listened to complaints 
 without sympathy, rose immediately from the chair 
 she was just seated on, saying, 
 
 " I think I never heard you, Mr. Sandford, com- 
 plain of indisposition before. Will you accept of 
 my specific for the head-ach? Indeed it is a cer- 
 tain relief I'll fetch it instantly." 
 
 She went hastily out of the room, and returned 
 with a bottle, which, she assured him, " was a pre- 
 sent from Lady Luneham, and would certainly cure 
 him." And she pressed it upon him with such an 
 anxious earnestness, that, with all his churlishness, 
 he could not refuse taking it. 
 
 This was but a common-place civility, such as is 
 paid by one enemy to another every day ; but the 
 manner was the material part. The unaffected con- 
 cern, the attention, the good will she demonstrated 
 in this little incident, was that which made it re- 
 markable ; and which immediately took from Lord 
 Elmwood the displeasure to which he had been just 
 before provoked, or rather transformed it into a 
 degree of admiration. Even Sandford was not in- 
 sensible to her kindness, and in return, when he left 
 the room, " wished her a good night." 
 
 To her and Miss Woodley, who had not been 
 witnesses of the preceding conversation, what she 
 had done appeared of no merit : hut to the mind of 
 Lord Elmwood the merit was infinite ; and, upon 
 the departure of Sandford, he began to be unusually 
 cheerful. He first pleasantly reproached the ladies 
 for not offering him a place in their box at the 
 opera. " Would you have gone, my lord V asked 
 Miss Milner, highly delighted. 
 
 "Certainly," returned he, " had you invited me,"
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. Ill 
 
 " Then from this day I give you a general invita- 
 tion: nor shall any other company be admitted but 
 those whom you approve." 
 
 " I am very much obliged to you," said he. 
 
 " And you," continued she, " who have been ac- 
 customed only to church music, will be more than 
 any one enchanted with hearing the softer music of 
 love." 
 
 " What ravishing pleasures you are preparing for 
 me!" returned he. " I know not whether my weak 
 senses will be able to support them." 
 
 She had her eyes upon him when he spoke this, 
 and she discovered in his, that were fixed upon her, 
 a sensibility unexpected a kind of fascination which 
 enticed her to look on, while her eye-lids fell in- 
 voluntarily before its mighty force, and a thousand 
 blushes crowded over her face. He was struck with 
 these sudden signals, hastily recalled his former 
 countenance, and stopped the conversation. 
 
 Miss Woodley, who had been a silent observer 
 for some time, now thought a word or two from 
 her would be acceptable rather than troublesome. 
 
 " And pray, my lord," said she, " when do you 
 go to France?" 
 
 " To Italy, you mean : I shall not go at all," said 
 he. " My superiors are very indulgent, for they 
 dispense with all my duties. I ought, and I meant, 
 to have gone abroad ; but as a variety of concerns 
 require my presence in England, every necessary 
 ceremony has taken place here." 
 
 " Then your lordship is no longer in orders?" said 
 Miss Woodley. 
 
 " No : they have been resigned these five days." 
 
 " My lord, I give you joy," said Miss Milner. 
 
 He thanked her, but added, with a sigh, " If I 
 have given up content in search of joy, I shall per- 
 1.2
 
 112 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 haps be a loser by the venture." Soon after this, 
 he wished them a good night, and retired. 
 
 Happy as Miss Milner found herself in his com- 
 pany, she saw him leave the room with infinite satis- 
 faction, because her heart was impatient to give a 
 loose to its hopes on the bosom of Miss Woodley. 
 She bade Mrs. Horton immediately good night ; 
 and, in her friend's apartment, gave way to all the 
 language of passion, warmed with the confidence of 
 meeting its return. She described the sentiments 
 she had read in Lord Elmwood's looks; and though 
 Miss Woodley had beheld them too, Miss Milner's 
 fancy heightened the expression of every glance, 
 till her construction became, by degrees, so ex- 
 tremely favourable to her own wishes, that had not 
 her friend been likewise present, and known in what 
 measure to estimate those sypmtoms, she must in- 
 fallibly have thought, by the joy to which they 
 gave birth, that he had openly avowed a passion for 
 her. 
 
 Miss Woodley, of course, thought it her duty to 
 allay these ecstasies, and represented to her, she 
 might be deceived in her hopes ; or, even supposing 
 his wishes inclined towards her, there were yet great 
 obstacles between them. " Would not Sandford, 
 who directed his every thought and purpose, be 
 consulted upon this important one ? And if he was, 
 upon what but the most romantic affection on the 
 part of Lord Elmwood, had Miss Milner to depend? 
 And his lordship was not a man to be suspected of 
 submitting to the excess of any passion." Thus 
 did Miss Woodley argue, lest her friend should be 
 misled by her hopes ; yet, in her own mind, she 
 scarcely harboured a doubt that any thing would 
 occur to thwart them. The succeeding circum- 
 stance proved she was mistaken.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 113 
 
 Another gentleman of family and fortune made 
 overtures to Miss Milner : and her guardian, so far 
 from having his thoughts inclined towards her on his 
 own account, pleaded this lovers cause even with 
 more zeal than he had pleaded for Sir Edward and 
 Lord Frederick ; thus at once destroying all those 
 plans of happiness which poor Miss Milner had 
 formed. 
 
 In consequence, her melancholy disposition of 
 mind was now predominant : she confined herself 
 at home, and, by her own express order, was denied 
 to all her visitors. Whether this arose from pure 
 melancholy, or the still lingering hope of making 
 her conquest, by that sedateness of manners which 
 she knew her guardian admired, she herself perhaps 
 did not perfectly know. Be that as it may, Lord 
 Elmwood could not but observe this change, and 
 one morning thought fit to mention and to ap- 
 plaud it. 
 
 Miss Woodley and she were at work together 
 when he came into the room ; and after sitting 
 several minutes, and talking upon indifferent sub- 
 jects, to which his ward replied with a dejection in 
 her voice and manner, he said, 
 
 " Perhaps I am wrong, Miss Milner, but I have 
 observed that you are lately more thoughtful than 
 usual." 
 
 'She blushed, as she always did when the subject 
 was herself. He continued : " Your health appears 
 perfectly restored, and yet I have observed you take 
 no delight in your former amusements." 
 
 " Are you sorry for that, my lord ?" 
 
 " No, I am extremely glad ; and I was going to 
 congratulate you upon the change. But give me 
 leave to inquire, to what fortunate accident we may 
 attribute this alteration ? " 
 
 " Your lordship then thinks all my commendable 
 L 3
 
 114 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 deeds arise from accident, and that I have no virtues 
 of my own." 
 
 " Pardon me, I think you have many." This he 
 spoke emphatically, and her blushes increased. 
 
 He resumed : " How can I doubt of a lady's 
 virtues, when her countenance gives me such evident 
 proofs of them ? Believe me, Miss Milner, that in 
 the midst of your gayest follies, while you thus con- 
 tinue to blush, I shall reverence your internal sen- 
 sations." 
 
 " Oh, my lord ! did you know some of them, I 
 am afraid you would think them unpardonable." 
 
 This was so much to the purpose, that Miss 
 Woodley found herself alarmed, but without rea- 
 son : Miss Milner loved too sincerely, to reveal it to 
 the object. He. answered, 
 
 " And did you know some of mine, you might 
 think them equally unpardonable." 
 
 She turned pale, and could no longer guide her 
 needle. In the fond transport of her heart she 
 imagined that his love for her was among the sen- 
 sations to which he alluded. She was too much 
 embarrassed to reply, and he continued 
 
 " We have all much to pardon in one another; and 
 I know not whether the officious person who forces, 
 even his good advice, is not as blameable as the 
 obstinate one who will not listen to it. And now, 
 having made a preface to excuse you, should you 
 once more refuse mine, I shall venture to give it." 
 
 " My lord, I have never yet refused to follow 
 your advice, but where my own peace of mind was 
 so nearly concerned as to have made me culpable, 
 had I complied." 
 
 " Well, madam, I submit to your past deter- 
 minations, and shall never again oppose your in- 
 clination to remain single." 
 
 This sentence, as it excluded the design of soli-
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 115 
 
 citing for himself, gave her ihe utmost pain ; and 
 her eye glanced at him, full of reproach. He did 
 not observe it, but went on : 
 
 " While you continue unmarried, it seems to have 
 been your father's intention that you should con- 
 tinue under my immediate care ; but as I mean for 
 the future to reside chiefly in the country, answer 
 me candidly, do you think you could be happy 
 there, for at least three parts of the year?" 
 
 After a short hesitation, she replied, " I have 
 no objection." 
 
 " I am glad to hear it," he returned eagerly; " for 
 it is my sincere desire to have you with me : your 
 welfare is dear to me as my own ; and were we 
 apart, continual apprehensions would prey upon my 
 mind." 
 
 Tiie tear started in her eye, at the earnestness 
 that accompanied these words : he saw it ; and to 
 soften her still more with the sense of his esteem 
 for her, he increased his earnestness while he said, 
 
 " If you will take the resolution to quit London, 
 for the length of time I mention, there shall be no 
 means omitted to make the country all you can 
 wish. I shall insist upon Miss VVoodley's company 
 for both our sakes ; and it will not only be my study 
 to form such a society as you may approve, but I 
 am certain it will be likewise the study of Lady 
 Ehnwood " 
 
 lie was going on ; but, as if a poniard had thrust 
 her to the heart, she writhed under this unexpected 
 stroke. 
 
 lie saw her countenance change he looked at 
 her stedfastly. 
 
 It was not a common change from joy to sorrow, 
 from content to uneasiness, which Miss Milncr dis- 
 covered she felt, and she expressed anguish. 
 Ird Elruwood was alarmed and shocked. She
 
 116 A SIMPLE STOKY. 
 
 did not weep; but she called Miss Woodier to 
 come to her, with a voice that indicated a degree 
 of agony. 
 
 " My lord," cried Miss Woodley, seeing- his 
 consternation, and trembling lest he should guess 
 the secret ; " my lord, Miss Milner has again de- 
 ceived you : you must not take her from London 
 it is that, and that alone, which is the cause of her 
 uneasiness." 
 
 He seemed more amazed still, and still more 
 shocked at her duplicity than at her torture. 
 Good Heaven!" exclaimed he, " how am 1 to 
 accomplish her wishes? What am I to do ? How 
 can I judge, if she will not confide in me, but thus 
 for ever deceive me ? " 
 
 She leaned, pale as death, on the shoulder of Miss 
 Woodley, her eye fixed with apparent insensibility 
 to all that was said, while he continued, 
 
 " Heaven is my witness, if I knew if I could 
 conceive the means how to make her happy, I would 
 sacrifice my own happiness to hers." 
 
 " My lord," said Miss Woodley, with a smile, 
 <f perhaps I may call upon you hereafter to fulfil 
 your word." 
 
 He was totally ignorant what she meant ; nor had 
 he leisure, from the confusion of his thoughts, to 
 sreflect upon her meaning : he nevertheless replied, 
 with warmth, " Do ; you shall find I'll perform it. 
 Do ; I will faithfully perform it." 
 
 Though Miss Milner was conscious this declara- 
 tion could not, in delicacy, be ever adduced against 
 him : yet the fervent and solemn manner in which 
 he made it, cheered her spirits ; and as persons 
 enjoy the reflection of having in their possession 
 some valuable gem, though they are determined 
 never to use it, so she upon this promise was com- 
 forted and grew better. She now lifted up her
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 117 
 
 head, and leaned it on her hand, as she sat by the 
 side of a table : still she did not speak, but seemed 
 overcome with sorrow. As her situation became, 
 however, less alarming, her guardian's pity and 
 affright began to take the colour of resentment ; 
 and though he did not say so, he was, and looked, 
 highly offended. 
 
 At this juncture Mr. Sandford entered. On 
 beholding the present party, it required not his sa- 
 gacity to see, at the first view, that they were all 
 uneasy ; but instead of the sympathy this might have 
 excited in some dispositions, Mr. Sandford, after 
 casting a look at each of them, appeared in high 
 spirits. 
 
 " You seem unhappy, my lord," said he, with a 
 smile. 
 
 " You do not, Mr. Sandford," Lord Elmwood 
 replied. 
 
 " No, my lord ; nor would I, were I in your situa- 
 tion. What should make a man of sense out of 
 temper but a worthy object!" and he looked at 
 Miss M ilner. 
 
 " There are no objects unworthy our care," re- 
 plied Lord Elmwood. 
 
 " But there are objects on whom all care is fruit- 
 less, your lordship will allow." 
 
 " I never yet despaired of any one, Mr. Sand- 
 ford." 
 
 " And yet there are persons of whom it is pre- 
 sumption to entertain any hopes." And he looked 
 again at Miss M ilner. 
 
 " Does your head ach, Miss Milner?" asked her 
 friend, seeing her hold it with her hand. 
 
 " 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 ? "
 
 118 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " Yes," answered he, " I did." But the ques- 
 tion at that moment somewhat emharrassed 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 with- 
 out 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 XXI. 
 
 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 had ex- 
 pected. No engagement between mortals was, in 
 Miss Woodley's opinion, binding like that entered 
 into with Heaven ; and whatever vows Lord Elm- 
 wood had possibly made to another, she justly sup- 
 posed that no woman's love for him equalled Miss 
 Milner's. It was prior to all others, that established 
 her claim, at least, to contend 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 suspense, Miss Woodley 
 soon arrived at the certainty, by inquiring of Mr. 
 Sandford ; who, unsuspecting why she asked, readily 
 informed her that the intended Lady Elmwood was 
 no other than Miss Fenton, and that the marriage 
 would be solemnized as soon as the mourning for
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 119 
 
 the late Lord Elmwood was over. This last intelli- 
 gence made Miss Woodley shudder : she repeated 
 it, however, to Miss Milner, word for word. 
 
 "Happy, happy woman!" exclaimed Miss Mil- 
 ner of Miss Fenton : " she has received the first 
 fond impulse of his heart, and has had the transcend- 
 ent 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 trans- 
 ferred her to him." 
 
 It was easy to convince Miss Milner that all 
 which her friend said was truth, for she wished it 
 so. " And, oh ! " she exclaimed, " could I but 
 stimulate passion, against the cold influence of pro- 
 priety ; do you think, my dear Miss Woodley" 
 and she looked with such begging eyes, if was im- 
 possible not to answer as she wished " do you 
 think it would be unjust to Miss Fenton, were I to 
 inspire her appointed husband with a passion which 
 she may not have inspired, and which I believe she 
 cannot feel?" 
 
 Miss Woodley paused a minute, and then answer- 
 ed, " 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 recal the word, or to alter its meaning by 
 adding others, 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
 
 120 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 both concluded that Miss Teuton's heart was not 
 engaged in the intended marriage, and, conse- 
 quently, that she was indifferent whether it ever 
 took place or not. 
 
 Since the death of the late earl, she lad 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 passion was a comfortable re- 
 flection. 
 
 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 V asked Mrs. Horton. 
 
 " She came yesterday morning," returned Sand- 
 ford, " and is at her brother's, in Ormond-street : 
 my lord and 1 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 1 " said Mrs. Horton, not dreaming that she 
 was asking the question before her new lover.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 121 
 
 " Uneasy !" replied Sandford : " uneasy at any 
 trial this world can send ? That would be highly un- 
 worthy 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 en- 
 dowed 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 para- 
 dise." 
 
 " How do you know T said Miss Milner. 
 
 " But the beauty of Lucifer" (continued Sand- 
 ford, in perfect neglect and contempt of her 
 question,) " was an aggravation of his guilt ; be- 
 cause it shewed a double share of ingratitude 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 ear- 
 nest," 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 her- 
 
 vol. xxvm. M
 
 1*22 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 self extremely hurt at this, and made the appeal 
 almost in tears. 
 
 " Indeed, I think he does." And he looked at 
 Sandtbrd 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 V 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 re- 
 plied ; " 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 
 with 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 passed in anxious expectation by 
 Miss Milner, what would be the event of the even- 
 ing ; for upon her penetration that evening all her 
 future prospects she thought depended. If she saw 
 by his looks, by his words, or assiduities, that he 
 loved Miss Fenton, she flattered herself she would 
 never think of him again with hope : but if she ob- 
 served him treat her with inattention or indifference,
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 123 
 
 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 complexion. 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 
 distasteful : 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 neg- 
 lect, 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 not in many degrees more painful than 
 those which she endured. 
 
 There are but few persons who ever felt the real 
 passion of jealousy, because few have felt the real 
 passion of love ; but with those who have experi- 
 enced them both, jealousy has not only affected 
 the mind, but every fibre of their frame ; and Miss 
 Milner's every limb felt agonizing torment, when 
 Miss Fenton, courted and beloved by Lord Elmwood, 
 was present to her imagination. 
 
 The moment the opera was finished, she flew 
 hastily down stairs, as if to fly from the sufferings 
 she experienced. She did not go into the coffee- 
 room, though repeatedly urged by Miss Woodley, 
 but waited at the door till her carriage drew up. 
 
 Piqued heart-broken full of resentment against 
 M 2
 
 124 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 the object of her uneasiness, and inattentive to all 
 that passed, as she stood a hand gently touched her 
 own ; and the most humble and insinuating voice said, 
 " Will you permit me to lead you to your carriage ?" 
 She was awakened from her reverie, and found Lord 
 Frederick Lawnley by her side. Her heart, just 
 then melting with tendernss to another, was per- 
 haps more accessible than heretofore ; or, bursting 
 with resentment, thought this the moment to reta- 
 liate. Whatever passion reigned that instant, it was 
 favourable to the desires of Lord Frederick, and she 
 looked as if she was glad to see him. He beheld this 
 with the rapture and the humility of a lover : and 
 though she did not feel the least particle of love in 
 return, she felt gratitude in proportion to the insen- 
 sibility with which she had been treated by her 
 guardian ; and Lord Frederick's supposition was not 
 very erroneous, if he mistook this gratitude for a 
 latent spark of affection. The mistake; however, 
 did not force from him his respect : he handed her 
 to her carriage, bowed low, and disappeared. Miss 
 Woodley wished to divert her thoughts from the 
 object which could only make her wretched, and as 
 they rode home, by many encomiums upon Lord 
 Frederick, endeavoured to incite her to a regard for 
 him : Miss Milner was displeased at the attempt, 
 and exclaimed, 
 
 " What ! love a rake, a man of professed gallantry! 
 Impossible. To me a common rake is as odious as 
 a common prostitute is to a man of the nicest 
 feelings. Where can be the joy, the pride of 
 inspiring a passion which fifty others can equally 
 inspire ?" 
 
 " Strange," cried Miss Woodley, " that you, who 
 possess so many follies incident to your sex, should, 
 in the disposal of your heart, have sentiments so 
 contrary to women in general."
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 125 
 
 "My dear Miss Woodley," returned she, "put 
 in competition the languid addresses of a libertine, 
 with the animated affection of a sober man, and 
 judge which has the dominion. Oh ! in my calendar 
 of love, a solemn lord chief justice, or a devout 
 archbishop, ranks before a licentious king." 
 
 Miss Woodley smiled at an opinion which she 
 knew half her sex would ridicule ; but by the air of 
 sincerity with which it was delivered, she was con- 
 vinced her recent behaviour to Lord Frederick was 
 but the mere effect of chance. 
 
 Lord Elmwood's carriage drove to his door just 
 at the time hers did. Mr. Sandford was with him, 
 and they were both come from passing the evening 
 at Mr. Fenton's. 
 
 " So, my lord," said Miss Woodley, as soon as 
 they met in the drawing-room, " you did not come 
 to us?" 
 
 " No," answered he, " I was sorry ; but I hope 
 you did not expect me." 
 
 " Not expect you, my lord ?" cried Miss Milner. 
 " Did not you say that you would come ?" 
 
 " If I had, I certainly should have come," return- 
 ed he, " but I only said so conditionally." 
 
 " That I am a witness to," cried Sandford ; " for 
 I was present at the time, and he said it should de- 
 pend upon Miss Fenton." 
 
 " And she, with her gloomy disposition," said 
 Miss Milner, " chose to sit at home." 
 
 " Gloomy disposition!" repeated Sandford : "she 
 has a great share of sprightliness : and I think I 
 never saw her in better spirits than she was this 
 evening, my lord." 
 
 Lord Elmwood did not speak. 
 
 " Bless me, Mr. Sandford," cried Miss Milner, 
 " I meant no reflection upon Miss Fenton's dispo 
 M 3
 
 126 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 sition ; I only meant to censure her taste for 
 staying at home." 
 
 " I think," replied Sandford, " a much heavier 
 censure should be passed upon those who prefer 
 rambling abroad." 
 
 " But I hope, ladies, my not coming," said Lord 
 Elmwood, " was no inconvenience to you ; for vou 
 had still, I see, a gentleman with you." 
 
 " Oh ! yes, two gentlemen :" answered the son 
 of Lady Evans, a youth from school, whom Miss 
 Milner had taken along with her. 
 
 " What two?" asked Lord Elmwood. 
 
 Neither Miss Milner nor Miss Woodley answered. 
 
 " You know, madam," said young Evans, " that, 
 handsome gentleman who handed you into your car- 
 riage, and you called my lord." 
 
 " Oh ! he means Lord Frederick Lawnley :" said 
 Miss Milner carelessly, but a blush of shame spread 
 over her face. 
 
 " And did he hand you into your coach V asked 
 Lord Elmwood earnestly. 
 
 " By mere accident, my lord," Miss Woodley re- 
 plied, " for the crowd was so great " 
 
 " I think, my lord," said Sandford, " it was very 
 lucky that you were not there." 
 
 " Had Lord Elmwood been with us, we should 
 not have had occasion for the assistance of any 
 other," said Miss Milner. 
 
 " Lord Elmwood has been with you, madam," 
 returned Sandford, " very frequently, and yet " 
 
 " Mr. Sandford," said Lord Elmwood, " inter- 
 rupting him, " it is near bed-time: your conversation 
 keeps the ladies from retiring." 
 
 " Your lordship's does not," said Miss Milner, 
 "for you say nothing." 
 
 " Because, madam, I am afraid to offend."
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 127 
 
 " But do not you also hope to please ? And with- 
 out risking the one, it is impossible to arrive at the 
 other." 
 
 " 1 think, at present, the risk would be too ha- 
 zardous ; and so I wish you a good night." And he 
 went out of the room somewhat abruptly. 
 
 " Lord Elmwood," said Miss Miluer, " is verv 
 grave : he does not look like a man who has been 
 passing the evening with the woman he loves." 
 
 " Perhaps he is melancholy at parting from her," 
 said Miss Woodley. 
 
 " More likely offended," said Sandford, " at the 
 manner in which that lady has spoken of her." 
 
 " Who, I ? I protest I said nothing " 
 
 " Nothing ! Did not you say that she was gloomy?" 
 
 " Nothing but what I thought, I was going to 
 add, Mr. Sandford." 
 
 " When you think unjustly, you should not ex- 
 press your thoughts." 
 
 " Then, perhaps, I should never speak." 
 
 " And it were better you did not, if what you say 
 is to give pain. Do you know, madam, that my 
 lord is going to be married to Miss Fenton ?" 
 
 " Yes," answered Miss Milner. 
 
 " Do you know that he loves her? " 
 
 " No," answered Miss Milner. 
 
 " How ! do you suppose he does not ?" 
 
 " I suppose that he does ; yet I don't know it.'' 
 
 "Then if you suppose that he does; how can you 
 have the imprudence to find fault with her in his 
 presence?" 
 
 " I did not. To call her gloomy was, I knew, to 
 commend her both to him and to you, who admire 
 such tempers." 
 
 " Whatever her temper is, every one admires it ; 
 and so far from its hem" what you have described,
 
 128 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 she has great vivacity ; vivacity which comes from 
 the heart." 
 
 " No, if it came from thence, I should admire it 
 too ; but, if she has any, it rests there, and no one is 
 the better for it." 
 
 " Pshaw ! " said Miss Woodley, " it is time for us 
 to retire ; you and Mr. Sandford must finish your 
 dispute in the morning." 
 
 "Dispute, madam!" said Sandford, "I never 
 disputed with any one beneath a doctor of divinity 
 in my life. I was only cautioning your friend not 
 to make light of those virtues, which it would do her 
 honour to possess. Miss Fenton is a most amiable 
 young woman, and worthy of just such a husband as 
 my Lord Elmwood will make her." 
 
 " I am sure," said Miss Woodley, " Miss Milner 
 thinks so : she has a high opinion of Miss Fenton ; 
 she was at present only jesting." 
 
 " But, madam, a jest is a very pernicious thing, 
 when delivered with a malignant sneer. I have 
 known a jest destroy a lady's reputation : 1 have 
 known a jest give one person a distaste for another: 
 1 have known a jest break off a marriage." 
 
 " But I suppose there is no apprehension of that 
 in the present case?" said Miss Woodley, wishing 
 he might answer in the affirmative. 
 
 " Not that I can foresee. No, Heaven forbid," 
 he replied, " for I look upon them to be formed for 
 each other ; their dispositions, their pursuits, their 
 inclinations the same ; their passions for each other 
 just the same ; pure, white as snow." 
 
 " And, I dare say, not warmer ;" replied Miss 
 Milner. 
 
 He looked provoked beyond measure. 
 
 " My dear," cried Miss Woodley, " how can you 
 tajk thus ? I believe in my heart you are only en-
 
 A SIMILE STORY. 129 
 
 vious, because my Lord Elmwood has not offered 
 himself to you." 
 
 " To her ! " said Sandford, affecting an air of the 
 utmost surprise ; to her ! Do you think he re- 
 ceived a dispensation from his vows, to become the 
 
 husband of a coquette a ." He was going 
 
 on. 
 
 " Nay, Mr. Sandford," cried Miss Milner, " I 
 believe, after all, my worst crime, in your eyes, is 
 that of being a heretic." 
 
 " By no means : it is the only circumstance that 
 can apologize for your faults ; and if you had not 
 that excuse, there would be none for you." 
 
 " Then, at present, there is an excuse : I thank 
 you, Mr. S indford : this is the kindest thing you 
 ever said to me. But I am vext to see that you are 
 sorry for having said it." 
 
 " Angry at your being a heretic ! " he resumed 
 " Indeed I should be much more concerned to see 
 you a disgrace to our religion.' 
 
 Miss Milner had not been in a good humour the 
 whole evening : she had been provoked several times 
 to the full extent of her patience : but this harsh 
 sentence hurried her beyond all bounds, and she 
 arose from her seat in the most violent agitation, 
 exclaiming, " What have 1 done to be thus treated?" 
 
 Though Mr. Sandford was not a man easily in- 
 timidated, he was upon this occasion evidently 
 alarmed ; and stared about him with so violent an 
 expression of surprise, that it partook, in some de- 
 gree, of fear. Miss VVoodley clasped her friend in 
 her arms, and cried with the tenderest affection and 
 pity, " My dear Miss Milner, be composed." 
 
 Miss Milner sat down, and was so for a minute ; 
 but her dead silence was almost as alarming to Sand- 
 ford as her rage had been ; and he did not perfectly 
 recover himself till he saw tears pouring down her
 
 130 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 face. He then heaved a sigh of content that all 
 had thus ended ; hut in his heart resolved never to 
 forget the ridiculous affright into which he had heen 
 thrown. He stole out of the room without uttering 
 a syllable : but as he never retired to rest before 
 he had repeated a long form of evening prayer, 
 when this evening he came to that part which sup- 
 plicates " grace for the wicked," he took care to 
 mention Miss Milner's name with the most fervent 
 devotion. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 Of the many restless nights that Miss Milnerpassed, 
 this was not one. It is true, she had a weight of 
 care upon her heart, even heavier than usual, but 
 the burden had overcome her strength. Wearied 
 out with hopes, with fears, and, at the end, with 
 disappointment and rage, she sunk at once into a 
 deep slumber. But the more forgetfulness had then 
 prevailed, the more powerful was the force of re- 
 membrance when she awoke. At first, so sound her 
 sleep had been, that she had a difficulty in calling 
 to mind why she was unhappy ; but that she was 
 unhappy she well recollected. When the cause came 
 to her memory, she would have slept again ; but it 
 was impossible. 
 
 Though her rest had been unbroken, it had not 
 been refreshing ; she was far from well, and sent 
 word of her indisposition, as an apology for not 
 being present at breakfast. Lord Elmwood looked 
 concerned when the message was delivered : Mr. 
 Sandford shook his head. 
 
 " Miss Milner's health is not good !" said Mrs. 
 Horton a few minutes after.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 131 
 
 Lord Elmwood laid down the newspaper to attend 
 to what she said. 
 
 " To me there is something very extraordinary 
 about her!" continued Mrs. Horton, rinding she had 
 caught his lordship's attention. 
 
 " So there is to me ! " added Sandford, with a 
 sarcastic sneer. 
 
 " And so there is to me ! " said Miss Woodley, 
 with a serious face and a heartfelt sigh. 
 
 Lord Elmwood gazed by turns at each, as each 
 delivered their sentiments ; and when they were 
 all silent, he looked bewildered, not knowing what 
 judgment to form from any one of these sentences. 
 
 Soon after breakfast, Mr. Sandford withdrew to 
 his own apartment : Mrs. Horton, in a little time, 
 went to hers : Lord Elmwood and Miss Woodley 
 were left alone. He immediately rose from his seat, 
 and said, 
 
 " I think, Miss Woodley, Miss Milner was ex- 
 tremely to blame, though I did not choose to tell 
 her so before Mr. Sandford, in giving Lord Frederick 
 an opportunity of speaking to her, unless she means 
 that he shall renew his addresses." 
 
 " That, I am certain," replied Miss Woodley, 
 " she does not mean : and I assure you, my lord, 
 seriously, it was by mere accident she saw him yes- 
 terday evening, or permitted his attendance upon 
 her to her carriage. ' 
 
 "I am glad to hear it," he returned quickly ; 
 " for although I am not of a suspicious nature, 
 yet in regard to her affection for him, 1 cannot 
 but still have my doubts." 
 
 " You need have none, my lord," replied Miss 
 Woodley, with a smile of confidence. 
 
 " And yet you must own her behaviour has war- 
 ranted them. Has it not been, in this particular, 
 incoherent and unaccountable I "
 
 132 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " The behaviour of a person in love, no doubt," 
 answered Miss Woodley. 
 
 " Don't 1 say so 1 " replied he, warmly ; " and is 
 not that a just reason for my suspicions ? " 
 
 " But is there only one man in the world on whom 
 those suspicions can fix ? " said Miss Woodley, with 
 the colour mounting into her face. 
 
 " Not that I know of- not one more that I know 
 of," he replied, with astonishment at what she had 
 insinuated, and yet with a perfect assurance that she 
 was in the wrong. 
 
 " Perhaps I am mistaken," answered she. 
 
 " Nay, that is impossible too," returned he, with 
 anxiety. " You share her confidence you are per- 
 petually with her ; and for that reason, even if she 
 did not confide in you, (which I know, and rejoice 
 that she does,) you would yet be acquainted with all 
 her inclinations." 
 
 " I believe I am perfectly acquainted with them," 
 replied Miss Woodley, with a significance in her 
 voice and manner which convinced him there was 
 some secret to learn. 
 
 After a hesitation 
 
 " It is far from me," replied he, " to wish to be 
 entrusted with the private sentiments of those who 
 desire to withhold them from me ; much less would 
 I take any unfair means to be informed. To ask 
 anymore questions of you, I believe, would be un- 
 fair. Yet I cannot but lament that I am not as well 
 instructed as you are. 1 wish to prove my friend- 
 ship to Miss Milner, but she will not suffer me ; and 
 every step that 1 take for her happiness, I take in 
 the most perplexing uncertainty." 
 
 Miss Woodley sighed but she did not speak. 
 He seemed to wait for her reply ; but as she made 
 none, he proceeded 
 
 " If ever breach of confidence could be tolerated,
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 133 
 
 1 certainly know no occasion that would so justly 
 authorise it as the present. I am not only proper 
 from character, but from circumstances, to be relied 
 upon : my interest is so nearly connected with the 
 interest and my happiness with the happiness of my 
 ward, that those principles as well as my honour, 
 would protect her against every peril arising from 
 my being trusted." 
 
 " Oh ! my lord," cried Miss Woodley, with a 
 most forcible accent, " you are the last person on 
 earth she would pardon me for entrusting." 
 
 " Why so ?" said he warmly. " But that is the 
 way the person who is our friend we distrust : 
 where a common interest is concerned, we are 
 ashamed of drawing on a common danger afraid 
 
 of advice, though that advice is to preserve us. 
 
 Miss Woodley," said he changing his voice with 
 excess of earnestness, " do you not believe that I 
 would do any thing to make Miss Milner happy ? " 
 " Any thing in honour, my lord." 
 " She can desire nothing farther," he replied 
 in agitation. " Are her desires so unwarrantable, 
 that I cannot grant them ?" 
 
 Miss W'oodley agajn did not speak and he con- 
 tinued 
 
 " Great as my friendship is, there are certainly 
 bounds to it bounds that shall save her in spite of 
 herself:" and he raised his voice. 
 
 " In the disposal of themselves," resumed he, 
 with a less vehement tone, " that great, that terrific 
 disposal in marriage, (at which 1 have always looked 
 with fear and dismay), there is no accounting for the 
 rashness of a woman's choice, or sometimes for the 
 depravity of her taste. But in such a case, Miss 
 Milner's election of a husband shall not direct mine. 
 If she does not know how to estimate her own 
 value, I do. Independent of her fortune, she has 
 
 VOL. XXVIII. N
 
 134 AJJIMPLE STORY. 
 
 beauty to captivate the heart of any man ; and with 
 all her follies, she has a frankness in her manner, an 
 unaffected wisdom in her thoughts, a vivacity in her 
 conversation, and withal, a softness in her demean- 
 our, that might alone engage the affections of a man 
 of the nicest sentiments, and the strongest under- 
 standing. I will not see all these qualities and 
 accomplishments debased. It is my office to protect 
 her from the consequences of a degrading choice, 
 and I will execute the obligation." 
 
 " My lord, Miss Milner's taste is not a depraved 
 one : it is but too refined." 
 
 " What can you mean by that, Miss Woodley ? 
 You talk mysteriously. Is she not afraid that I will 
 oppose her inclinations?" 
 
 " She is sure that you will, my lord." 
 
 " Then the person must be unworthy of her." 
 
 Miss Woodley rose from her seat she clasped 
 her hands every look and every gesture proved 
 her alternate resolution and irresolution to proceed 
 farther. Lord Elmwood's attention was arrested 
 before ; but now it was fixed to a degree of curiosity 
 and surprise, which her extraordinary manner could 
 only have excited. 
 
 " My lord," said she with a tremulous voice, 
 " promise me, declare to me, nay, swear to me, that 
 it shall ever remain a secret in your own breast, and 
 I will reveal to you on whom she has placed her 
 affections." 
 
 This preparation made Lord Elmwood tremble ; 
 and he ran over instantly in his mind all the per- 
 sons he could recollect, in order to arrive at the 
 knowledge by thought, quicker than by words. It 
 was in vain he tried ; and he once more turned his 
 inquiring eyes upon Miss Woodley. He saw her 
 silent and covered with confusion. Again he search- 
 ed his own thoughts ; nor ineffectually as before.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 135 
 
 At the first glance, the object wag presented, and he 
 beheld himself. 
 
 The rapid emotion of varying passions, which 
 immediately darted over his features, informed Miss 
 Wood ley that her secret was discovered. She hid 
 her face, while the tears that fell down to her bosom, 
 confirmed the truth of his mind's suggestion, more 
 forcibly than oaths could have done. A short in- 
 terval of silence followed, during which she suffered 
 tortures for the manner in which he would next 
 address her. A few seconds gave her this reply : 
 
 " For God's sake, take care what you are doing : 
 you are destroying my prospects of futurity you 
 are making this world too dear to me." 
 
 Her drooping head was then lifted up, and she 
 caught the eye of Dorriforth ; she saw it beam 
 
 expectation, amazement, joy, ardour, and love. 
 
 Nay, there was a fire, a vehemence in the quick 
 fascinating rays it sent forth, she never before had 
 seen. It filled her with alarm : she wished him to 
 love Miss Milner, but to love her with moderation. 
 Miss Woodley was too little versed in the subject, 
 to know, this would have been not to love at all ; at 
 least, not to the extent of breaking through engage- 
 ments, and all the various obstacles that still militated 
 against their union. 
 
 Lord Elmwood was sensible of the embarrassment 
 his presence gave Miss Woodley, and understood 
 the reproaches which she seemed to vent upon her- 
 self in silence. To relieve her from both, he laid 
 his band with force upon his heart, and said, " Do 
 you believe me ?" 
 
 " I do, my lord," she answered, trembling. 
 
 " I will make no unjust use of what I know," he 
 replied with firmness. 
 
 " I believe you, my lord." 
 
 " But for what mv passions now dictate," con- 
 N2
 
 136 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 tinued he, " I will not hereafter answer. They are 
 confused they are triumphant at present. I have 
 never yet, however, been vanquished by them ; and 
 even upon this occasion, my reason shall combat 
 them to the last and my reason shall fail me, before 
 I act dishonourably." 
 
 He was going to leave the room she followed 
 him, and cried, " But, my lord, how shall I see again 
 the unhappy object of my treachery V- 
 
 " See her," replied he, " as one to whom you 
 meant no injury, and to whom you have done 
 none." 
 
 " But she would account it an injury." 
 
 " We are not judges of what belongs to ourselves," 
 he replied : " 1 am transported at the tidings you 
 have revealed ; and yet, perhaps, it had been better 
 if I had never heard them." 
 
 Miss Woodley was going to say something farther; 
 but, as if incapable of attending to her, he hastened 
 out of the room. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 Miss Woodley stood for some time to consider 
 which way she was to go. The first person she met 
 would inquire why she had been weeping : and if 
 Miss Milner was to ask the question, in what words 
 could she tell, or in what manner deny the truth ? 
 To avoid her was her first caution, and she took 
 the only method : she had a hackney coach ordered, 
 rode several miles out of town, and returned to din- 
 ner with so little remains of her swollen eyes, that 
 complaining of the head-ach was a sufficient excuse 
 for them. 
 
 Miss Milner was enough recovered to be present
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 137 
 
 at dinner, though she hardly tasted a morsel. Lord 
 Elrawood did not dine at home, at which Miss 
 Woodley rejoiced, but at which Mr. Sandford ap- 
 peared highly disappointed. He asked the servants 
 several times, what my lord said when he went out ? 
 They replied, " Nothing more than that he should 
 not be at home to dinner." " I can't imagine where 
 he dines?" said Sandford. " Bless me, Mr. Sand- 
 ford, can't you guess?" cried Mrs. Horton, who 
 by this time was made acquainted with his intended 
 marriage. " He dines with MissFenton, to be sure." 
 " No," replied Sandford, " he is not there : I 
 came from thence just now, and they had not seen 
 him all day." Poor Miss Milner, on this, began to 
 eat a little; for where we hope for nothing, we 
 receive small indulgences with joy. 
 
 Notwithstanding the anxiety and trouble under 
 which Miss Woodley had laboured all the morning, 
 her heart for many weeks had not felt so light as it 
 did this day at dinner. The confidence that she 
 reposed in the promises of Lord Elmwood the firm 
 reliance she had upon his delicacy and his justice 
 the unabated kindness with which her friend received 
 her, while she knew that no one suspicious thought 
 had taken harbour in her bosom and the conscious 
 integrity of her own intentions, though she might 
 have been misled by her judgment, all comforted 
 her with the hope she had done nothing she ought 
 to wish recalled. But although she felt thus tran- 
 quil, in respect to what she had divulged, yet she 
 was a good deal disquieted with the dread of next 
 seeing Lord Elmwood. 
 
 Miss Milner, not having spirits to go abroad, 
 passed the evening at home. She read part of a 
 new opera, played upon her harp, mused, sighed, 
 occasionally talked with Miss Woodley, and so passed 
 the tedious hour* till near ten, when Mrs. Horton 
 N 3
 
 138 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 asked Mr. Sandford to play a game at piquet, and on 
 his excusing himself, Miss Milner offered in his 
 stead, and was gladly accepted. They had just 
 begun to play when Lord Elmwood came into 
 the room. Miss Milner' s countenance immediately 
 brightened ; and though she was in a negligent 
 morning dress, and looked paler than usual, she did 
 not look less beautiful. Miss Wood ley was leaning 
 on the back of her chair to observe the game, and 
 Mr. Sand ford sat reading one of the fathers at the 
 other side of the fire-place. Lord Elmwood, as he 
 advanced to the table, bowed, not having seen the 
 ladies since the morning, nor Miss Milner that day: 
 they returned the salute, and he was going up to 
 Miss Milner (as if to inquire of her health), when 
 Mr. Sandford, laying down his book, said, 
 
 " My lord, where have you been all day?" 
 
 " I have been very busy," replied be, and walking 
 from the card-table, went up to him. 
 
 Miss Milner played one card for another, 
 
 " You have been at Mr. Fenton's this evening, I 
 suspose V said Sandford. 
 
 " No ; not at all to-day." 
 
 " How came that about, my lord?" 
 
 Miss Milner played the ace of diamonds, instead 
 of the king of hearts. 
 
 " I shall call to-morrow," answered Lord Elm- 
 wood ; and then walking with a very ceremonious 
 air up to Miss Milner, said, " he hoped she was 
 perfectly recovered." 
 
 Mrs. Horton begged her " to mind what she was 
 about." 
 
 She replied, "I am much better, sir." 
 
 He then returned to Sandford again ; but never, 
 during all this time, did his eye once encounter 
 Miss Woodley's ; and she, with equal care, avoided 
 his.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 139 
 
 Some cold dishes were now brought up for 
 supper : Miss Milner lost her deal, and the game 
 ended. 
 
 As they were arranging themselves at the supper- 
 table, " Do, Miss Milner," said Mrs. Horton, "have 
 something warm for your supper ; a chicken boiled, 
 or something of that kind : you have eat nothing 
 to-day." 
 
 With feelings of humanity, and apparently no 
 other sensation but never did he feel his philan- 
 thropy so forcible Lord Elmwood said, " Let me 
 beg of you, Miss Milner, to have something pro- 
 vided for you." 
 
 The earnestness and emphasis with which these 
 few words were pronounced, were more flattering 
 than the finest turned compliment would have been: 
 her gratitude was expressed in blushes, and by as- 
 suring him she was now " so well as to sup on the 
 provisions 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 appetite. Lord Elmwood had always been at- 
 tentive 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 watchful- 
 ness 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 
 gratitude, that gave place to no sentiment except her 
 love.
 
 140 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 To relieve ihe anxiety which her guardian ex- 
 pressed, she endeavoured to appear cheerful; and 
 that anxiety, at length, really made her so. He now 
 pressed her to take one glass of wine with such soli- 
 citude, 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 goddess, 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 ex- 
 piation without amendment." 
 
 " Well, then," said she smiling, " suppose I pro- 
 mise 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 passed, and 
 Miss Milner retired to rest in far better spirits than 
 her morning's prospect had given her the least pre- 
 tence 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
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 14L 
 
 person as Miss Fen ton. She wished she had been 
 equally acquainted with hers as with Miss Milner's 
 heart, and she would then have acted without in- 
 justice 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 XXIV. 
 
 Within a few weeks, 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 par- 
 taking in the joy Mr. Sandford lamenting, with the 
 deepest concern, that Miss Fenton had been sup- 
 planted : 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 ac- 
 quainted with Lord Elmwood's resolution, to quit 
 his house ; and as the earl had, with the utmost 
 degree of inflexibility, resisted all his good counse ? 
 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 passions, he should make
 
 142 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 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 ad- 
 vice, the more you require 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 rea- 
 son 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 con- 
 tend, 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 Elm- 
 wood'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.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 143 
 
 tt 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 re- 
 tained enough of the sanctity 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 Fen- 
 ton herself assured him, that her thoughts were 
 more upon the joys of heaven than upon those of 
 earth; and as this circumstance would, she believed, 
 induce her to retire into a convent, she considered 
 it -a happy rather than an unhappy event. Her 
 brother, on whom her fortune devolved, if she took 
 this holy 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 impassioned 
 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 ; hut 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 phan- 
 toms of the brain, and never, by system, put into 
 action : but, repeatedly indulged, they were prac- 
 tised by casual occurrences ; and the dear-bought
 
 144 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 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 there are that 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 folhes, all her fashion- 
 able levities, and indulged them with less restraint 
 than ever. 
 
 For a while, blinded by his passion, 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 ap- 
 pear 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 reconomy 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 cha- 
 rities directed by the force of whim. Another com-
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. J 45 
 
 plaint 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 show- 
 ing to Miss Woodley, and, more especially to Mr. 
 Sandford, how much she dared upon the strength of 
 his affections. 
 
 Every thing in preparation for their marriage, 
 which was to take place at Ehnwood House during 
 the summer months, she resolved for the short time 
 she had to remain in London, to let no occasion pass 
 of tasting all those pleasures that were not likely ever 
 to return ; hut which, though eager as she was in 
 their pursuit, she never placed in competition with 
 those she hoped would succeed those more sedate 
 and superior joys of domestic and conjugal happi- 
 ness. 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 law-suit concerning some possessions in the West 
 Indies, and other intricate affairs that came with his 
 title 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 so and had Miss 
 Milner been the dearest thing on earth to him, he 
 could not have watched her more vigilantly ; 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 
 
 VOL. XXVIII. o
 
 14G A SIiMPLE STORY. 
 
 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 accusation and every 
 other unfavourable 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 con- 
 futation and 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 
 dispassionate, 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," re- 
 plied he ; " for I have seen what 1 must always 
 love." 
 
 Sandford sighed and lifted up his hands. 
 
 " Mr. Sandford," resumed Lord Elmwood, with 
 a voice and manner such as were usual to him 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 compassion at your 
 unkind treatment that first gained her my heart."
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 147 
 
 " I, my lord V 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, de- 
 pend 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 passion, and meet me 
 upon equal ground." 
 
 " I will meet no one 1 will consult no one : my 
 own judgment shall be the judge, and in a few 
 months shall marry me to her, 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 con-
 
 148 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 tent: they bore the symptoms of a menace that 
 would be executed ; and he parted from his patron 
 with congratulations upon his wisdom, and with 
 o-ivin"; him the warmest assurances of his firm reli- 
 ance 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 under- 
 standing, of learning, and a complete casuist, yet 
 all the faults he committed were entirely for 
 the want of knowing better. He constantly re- 
 proved faults in others, and he was most assuredly 
 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 
 spiritual superior of all with whom he lived, had 
 been so busied with instructing others, that he had 
 not once recollected that himself wanted instruction: 
 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 hearkened 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. For could an 
 enemy, to whom he would have listened, have whis- 
 pered to Sandford as he left Lord Elmwood, " Cruel, 
 barbarous man ! you go away with your heart satis- 
 fied, nay, even elated, in the prospect that Miss 
 Milner's hopes, on which she alone exists those
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 149 
 
 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 peril. 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 re- 
 quires 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 rectitude and conscien- 
 tiousness, that he would have returned immedi- 
 ately to Lord Elmwood, and have strengthened all 
 his favourable opinions of his intended wife ; but 
 having no such monitor, he walked on, highly con- 
 tented, and, meeting Miss Woodley, said, with an 
 air of triumph, 
 
 " Where's your friend ? Where's Lady Elm- 
 wood ?" 
 
 Miss Woodley smiled, and answered She was 
 gone with such and such ladies to an auction. 
 " But why give her that title already, Mr. Sandford?" 
 
 " Because," answered he, " I think she will never 
 have it." 
 
 " Bless me, Mr. Sandford," said Miss Woodley, 
 " you shock me !" 
 
 " I thought I should," replied he, " and there- 
 fore I told it you." 
 
 " For Heaven's sake, what has happened?" 
 
 " Nothing new her indiscretions only." 
 
 " I know she is imprudent," said Miss Woodley ; 
 " I can see that her conduct is often exceptionable 
 but then Lord Elmwood surely loves her, and 
 love will overlook agreatdeal." 
 o3
 
 150 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " He does love her but he lias understanding 
 and resolution. He loved his sister too, tenderly 
 loved her, and yet when he had taken the resolution, 
 and passed his word that he would never see her 
 again even upon her death-bed he would not re- 
 tract it no entreaties could prevail upon him. 
 And now, though he maintains, and 1 dare say loves, 
 her child, yet you remember, when you brought him 
 home, that he would not suffer him in his sight." 
 
 " Poor Miss Milner !" said Miss Woodley, in the 
 most pitying accents. 
 
 " Nay," said Sandford, " Lord Elmwood bas not 
 yet passed his word, that he will never see her 
 more he has only threatened to do it ; but I know 
 enough of him to know, that his threats are generally 
 the same as if thev were performed." 
 
 " You are very good," said Miss Woodley, " to 
 acquaint me of this in time 1 may now warn Miss 
 Milner of it, and she may observe more circumspec- 
 tion." 
 
 " By no means," cried Sandford, hastily " What 
 would you warn her for? It will do her no good. 
 Besides,'' added he, " I don't know whether Lord 
 Elmwood does not expect secrecy on my part ; and 
 if he does " 
 
 " But with all deference to your opinion," said 
 Miss Woodley (and with all deference did she 
 speak), "don't you think, Mr. Sandford, that secrecy 
 upon this occasion would be criminal ? For consider 
 the anguish that it may occasion to my friend ; and 
 
 if, by advising her, we can save her from " She 
 
 was proceeding. 
 
 " You may call it criminal, madam, not to inform 
 her of what I have hinted at," cried he; " but I 
 call a breach of confidence if it was divulged to me 
 in confidence "
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. J5L 
 
 He was going to explain ; but Miss Milner enter- 
 ed, and put an end to the discourse. She had been 
 passing the whole morning at an auction, and had 
 laid out near two hundred pounds in different things 
 for which she had no one use, but bought them be- 
 cause they were said to be cheap. Among the rest 
 was a lot of books upon chemistry, and some Latin 
 authors. 
 
 " Why, madam," cried Sandford, looking over 
 the catalogue, where her purchases were marked by 
 a pencil, " do you know what you have done ? You 
 can't read a word of these books." 
 
 " Can't I, Mr. Sandford ? But 1 assure you that 
 you will be very much pleased with them, when you 
 see how elegantly they are bound." 
 
 " My dear," said Mrs. Horton, " why have you 
 bought china ( You and my Lord Elmwood have 
 more now than you have places to put them in." 
 
 " Very true, Mrs. Horton ; I forgot that : but, 
 then, you know, I can give these away." 
 
 Lord Elmwood was in the room at the conclusion 
 of this conversation : he shook his head and sighed. 
 
 " My lord," said she, " I have had a very agree- 
 able morning ; but I wished for you : if you had 
 been with me, I should have bought a great many 
 other things ; but I did not like to appear unreason- 
 able in your absence." 
 
 Sandford fixed his inquisitive eyes upon Lord 
 Elmwood, to observe his countenance : he smiled, 
 but appeared thoughtful. 
 
 " And oh! my lord, 1 have bought you a pre- 
 sent," said she. 
 
 " I do not wish for a present, Miss Milner." 
 
 " What ! not from me ? Very well." 
 
 " If you present me with yourself, it is all that I 
 ask." 
 
 Sandford moved upon his chair, as if he sat uneasy.
 
 152 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " Why, then, Miss Woodley," said Miss Milner, 
 " you shall have the present. But then it won't suit 
 you it is for a gentleman. I'll keep it and give it 
 to my Lord Frederick the first time I meet with 
 him. I saw him this morning, and he looked di- 
 vinely : I longed to speak to him." 
 
 Miss Woodley cast, by stealth, an eye of appre- 
 hension upon Lord Elmwood's face, and trembled 
 at seeing it flushed with resentment. 
 
 Sandford stared with both his eyes full upon him : 
 then drew himself upright on his chair, and took a 
 pinch of snuff upon the strength of the earl's un- 
 easiness. 
 
 A silence ensued. 
 
 After a short time " You all appear melan- 
 choly," said Miss Milner : " I wish 1 had not come 
 home yet." 
 
 Miss Woodley was in agony : she saw Lord Elm- 
 wood's extreme displeasure, and dreaded lest he 
 should express it by some words he could not recal, 
 or she could not forgive : therefore, whispering to 
 her she had something particular to say, she took 
 her out of the room. 
 
 The moment she was gone, Mr. Sandford rose 
 nimbly from his seat, rubbed his hands, walked 
 briskly across the room, then asked Lord Elmwood 
 in a cheerful tone, " whether he dined at home to- 
 day." 
 
 That which had given Sandford cheerfulness had 
 so depressed Lord Elmwood that he sat dejected 
 and silent. At length he answered in a faint voice, 
 " No ; I believe I shall not dine at home." 
 
 " W T here is your lordship going to dine?" asked 
 Mrs. Horton : "I thought we should have had your 
 company to-day : Miss Milner dines at home, I be- 
 lieve." 
 
 " I have not yet determined where I shall dine,"
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 153 
 
 replied he, taking no notice of the conclusion of her 
 speech. 
 
 " My lord, if you mean to go to the hotel, I'll go 
 with you, if you please," cried Sandford officiously. 
 
 " With all my heart, Sandford" and they both 
 went out together, before Miss Milner returned to 
 the apartment. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Miss Woodley, for the first time, disobeyed the will 
 of Mr. Sandford ; and as soon as Miss Milner and 
 she were alone, repeated all he- had revealed to her ; 
 accompanying the recital with her usual testimonies 
 of sympathy and affection. But had the genius of 
 Sandford presided over this discovery, it could not 
 have influenced the mind of Miss Milner to receive 
 the intelligence with a temper more exactly the 
 opposite of that which it was the intention of the 
 informer to recommend. Instead of shuddering at 
 the menace Lord Elmwood had uttered, she said, 
 she " dared him to perform it." " He dares not," 
 repeated she. 
 
 " Why dares not?" said Miss Woodley. 
 
 " Because he loves me too well because his own 
 happiness is too dear to him." 
 
 " I believe he loves you," replied Miss Woodley, 
 " and yet there is a doubt if " 
 
 " There shall be no longer a doubt," cried Miss 
 Milner: " I'll put him to the proof/' 
 
 " For shame, my dear! you talk inconsiderately: 
 what can you mean by proof?" 
 
 " I mean I will do something that no prudent man 
 ought to forgive ; and yet, with all his vast share of 
 prudence, he shall forgive it, and make a sacrifice of 
 just resentment to partial affection."
 
 154 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " But if you should bedisappointed, and he should 
 not make the sacrifice ?" said Miss Woodley. 
 
 " Then I have only lost a man who had no regard 
 for me." 
 
 " He may have a great regard for you, notwith- 
 standing." 
 
 " But for the love I have felt, and do still feel, 
 for my Lord Elmwood, I will have something more 
 than a great regard in return." 
 
 " You have his love, I am sure." 
 
 " But is it such as mine? /could love Mm if he 
 had a thousand faults. And yet," said she, recol- 
 lecting herself " and yet I believe his being fault- 
 less was the first cause of my passion." 
 
 Thus she talked on sometimes in anger, some- 
 times apparently in jest till her servant came to let 
 her know the dinner was served. Upon entering 
 the dining-room, and seeing Lord Elmwood's place 
 at table vacant, she started back. She was disap- 
 pointed of the pleasure she expected in dining with 
 him ; and his sudden absence, so immediately after 
 the intelligence that she had received from Miss 
 Woodley, increased her disquietude. She drew her 
 chair, and sat down with an indifference that pre- 
 dicted she should not eat; and as soon as she was 
 seated, she placed her fingers sullenly upon her 
 lips, nor touched her knife and fork, nor spoke a 
 word in reply to any thing that was said to her 
 during the whole dinner. Miss Woodley and Mrs. 
 Horton were both too well acquainted with the 
 good disposition of her heart, to take offence, or 
 appear to notice this behaviour. They dined, and 
 said nothing either to provoke or sooth her. Just 
 as the dinner was going to be removed, a loud rap 
 came at the door. " Who is that?" said Mrs. Hor- 
 ton. One of the servants went to the window, and 
 answered, " My lord and Mr. Sandford, madam."
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 155 
 
 " Come back to diuner, as I live!" cried Mrs. 
 Horton 
 
 Miss Miluer continued her position, and said no- 
 thing ; but at the corners of her mouth, which her 
 fingers did not entirely conceal, there were dis- 
 coverable a thousand dimpled graces like small 
 convulsive fibres, which a restrained smile upon 
 Lord Elmwood's return had sent there. 
 Lord Elmwood and Sandford entered. 
 " I am glad you are returned, my lord," said 
 Mrs. Horton, " for Miss Milner has not tasted of 
 one thing ! " 
 
 " It was only because I had no appetite," return- 
 ed she, blushing like crimson. 
 
 " We should not have come back," said Sandford, 
 " but at the place where we went to dine, all the 
 rooms were filled with company." 
 
 Lord Elmwood put the wing of a fowl on Miss 
 Milner's plate, but without previously asking if she 
 chose any ; yet she condescended to eat : they spoke 
 to each other, too, in the course of conversation, but 
 it was with a reserve that appeared as if they had 
 been quarrelling, and felt so to themselves, though 
 no such circumstance had happened. 
 
 Two weeks passed away in this kind of distant 
 behaviour on both sides, without either of them 
 venturing a direct quarrel, and without either of 
 them expressing, except inadvertently, their strong 
 affection for each other. 
 
 During this time they were once, however, very 
 near becoming the dearest friends in expression, as- 
 well as in sentiment. This arose from a favour that 
 he granted, in compliance with her desire, though 
 that desire had not been urged, but merely insinu- 
 ated ; and as it was a favour which he had refused to 
 the repeated requests of many of his friends, the 
 value of the obligation was heightened.
 
 156 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 She and Miss Woodley had taken an airing to see 
 the poor child, young Rushbrook. Lord Elm wood 
 inquiring of the ladies how they had passed their 
 morning, Miss Milner frankly told him ; and added, 
 what pain it gave her to leave the child behind, 
 as he had again cried to come away with her. 
 
 " Go for him, then, to-morrow," said Lord Elm- 
 wood, " and bring him home." 
 
 " Home !" she repeated, with surprise. 
 
 " Yes," replied he : " if you desire it, this shall be 
 his home : you shall be a mother, and I will, hence- 
 forward, be a father to him." 
 
 Sandford, who was present, looked unusually sour 
 at this high token of regard for Miss Milner ; yet, 
 with resentment on his face, he wiped a tear of joy 
 from his eye, for the boy's sake. His frown was the 
 force of prejudice, his tear the force of nature. 
 
 Rushbrook was brought home ; and whenever 
 Lord Elmwood wished to shew a kindness to Miss 
 Milner, without directing it immediately to her, he 
 took his nephew upon his knee, talked to him, and 
 told him, he "was glad they had become acquainted." 
 
 In the various, though delicate, struggles for 
 power between Miss Milner and her guardian, there 
 was not one person a witness to these incidents who 
 did not suppose that all would at last end in wed- 
 lock : for the most common observer perceived 
 that ardent love was the foundation of every dis- 
 content, as well as of every joy they experienced. 
 One great incident, however, totally reversed the 
 hope of all future accommodation. 
 
 The fashionable Lady G gave a masked ball. 
 
 Tickets were presented to persons of quality and 
 fashion : among the rest, three were sent to Miss 
 Milner. She had never been at a masquerade, and 
 received them with ecstacy ; the more especially as, 
 the masque being at the house of a woman of fashion,
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 1 
 
 she did not conceive there could be any objection 
 to her going. She was mistaken : the moment she 
 mentioned it to Lord Elmwood, he desired her, some- 
 what sternly, " not to think of being there." She 
 was vexed at the prohibition, but more at the man- 
 ner in which it was delivered, and boldly said, . 
 that " she should certainly go." 
 
 She expected a rebuke for this; but what alarmed 
 her much more, he said not a word : but he looked 
 with a resignation, which foreboded her greater sor- 
 row than the severest reproaches would have done. 
 She sat for a minute, reflecting how to rouse him 
 from this composure : she first thought of attacking 
 him with upbraidings; then she thought of soothing 
 him, and at last of laughing at him. This was the 
 most dangerous method of all, and yet this she ven- 
 tured upon. 
 
 " I am sure your lordship," said she, " with all 
 your saintliness, can have no objection to my being 
 present at the masquerade, if I go as a nun." 
 He made no reply. 
 
 " That is a habit," continued she, " which covers 
 a multitude of faults : and, for that evening, I may 
 have the chance of making a conquest even of you 
 nay, I question not, if under that inviting attire, 
 even the pious Mr. Sandford would not ogle me." 
 " Hush !" said Miss Woodley. 
 " Why hush?" cried Miss Milner, aloud, though 
 Miss Woodley had spoken in a whisper. " I am 
 sure," continued she, " I am only repeating what 
 1 have read in books about nuns and their confes- 
 sors." 
 
 " Your conduct, Miss Milner," replied Lord Elm- 
 wood, '.' gives evident proofs of the authors you 
 have read : you may spare yourself the trouble of 
 quoting them." 
 
 Her pride was hurt at this, beyond bearing ; and 
 YOI.. xxviii. p
 
 158 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 as she could not, like him, govern her anger, it 
 flushed in her face, and almost forced her to tears. 
 
 " My lord," said Miss Woodley, in a tone so 
 soft and peaceful that it might have calmed the re- 
 sentment of both " my lord, suppose you were to 
 accompany Miss Milner? There are tickets for three, 
 and you can then have no objection." 
 
 Miss Milner's brow was immediately smoothed ; 
 and she fetched a sigh, in anxious expectation that 
 he would consent. 
 
 " I go, Miss Woodley !" hereplied, with astonish- 
 ment. " Do you imagine I would play the buffoon 
 at a masquerade V 
 
 Miss Milner's face changed to its former appear- 
 ance. 
 
 " I have seen grave characters there, my lord," 
 said Miss Woodley. 
 
 " Dear Miss Woodley," cried Miss Milner, " why 
 persuade Lord Elmwood to put on a mask, just at 
 the time he has laid it aside." 
 
 His patience was now tempted to its height, and 
 he answered, " If you suspect me of inconsistency, 
 madam, you shall find me changed." 
 
 Pleased that she had been able at last to irritate 
 him, she smiled with a degree of triumph, and in 
 that humour was going to reply ; but before she 
 could speak four words, and before she thought of 
 it, he abruptly left the room. 
 
 She was highly offended at this insult, and declared, 
 " from that moment she banished him from her 
 heart for ever." To prove that she set his love and 
 his anger at equal defiance, she immediately ordered 
 her carriage, and said, she " was going to some of 
 her acquaintance, whom she knew to have tickets, 
 and with whom she would fix upon the habit she was 
 to appear in at the masquevade ; for nothing, unless 
 she was locked up, should alter the resolution she
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 159 
 
 had formed of being there." To remonstrate at 
 that moment, Miss Woodley knew would be in 
 vain. Her coach came to the door, and she drove 
 away. 
 
 She did not return to dinner, nor till it was late 
 in the evening. Lord Elmwood was at home, but he 
 never once mentioned her name. 
 
 She came home, after he had retired, in great 
 spirits ; and then, for the first time in her whole 
 life, appeared careless what he might think of her 
 conduct : but her whole thoughts were occupied 
 upon the business which had employed the chief of 
 her day ; and her dress engrossed all her conversa- 
 tion, as soon as Miss Woodley and she were alone. 
 She told her she had been shown the greatest 
 variety of beautiful and becoming dresses she had 
 ever beheld: " and yet," said she, " I have at last 
 fixed upon a very plain one ; but one I look so well 
 in, that you will hardly know me, when I have 
 it on." 
 
 " You are seriously then resolved to go," said 
 Miss Woodley, " if you hear no more on the sub- 
 ject from your guardian V 
 
 " Whether I do hear or not, Miss Woodley, I 
 am equally resolved to go." 
 
 " But you know, my dear, he has desired you 
 not ; and you used always to obey his commands." 
 
 " As my guardian, I certainly did obey him; and 
 I could obey him as a husband ; but as a lover I will 
 not." 
 
 " Yet that is the way never to have him for a 
 husband." 
 
 " As he pleases ; for if he will not submit to be 
 my lover, I will not submit to be his wife nor has 
 he the affection that I require in a husband." 
 
 Thus the old sentiments, repeated again and 
 again, prevented a separation till towards morning. 
 p2
 
 60 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 Miss Milner, for that night, dreamed less of her 
 guardian than of the masquerade. On the evening 
 of the next day it was to be : she was up early, 
 breakfasted in her dressing-room, and remained 
 there most of the day, busied in a thousand pre- 
 parations for the night ; one of them was, to arrange 
 her hair in falling ringlets. Her next care was, 
 that her dress should display her fine person to the 
 best advantage. It did so. Miss Wood ley entered 
 as it was trying on, and was all astonishment at the 
 elegance of the habit, and its beautiful effect upon 
 her graceful figure ; but, most of all, she was asto- 
 nished at her venturing on such a character ; for 
 though it represented the goddess of Chastity, yet 
 from the buskins, and the petticoat festooned far 
 above the ancle, it had, on a first glance, the ap- 
 pearance of a female much less virtuous. Miss 
 
 Woodley admired this dress, yetobjected to it ; but as 
 
 she admired first, her objections after had no weight. 
 
 " Where is Lord Elmwood V* said Miss Milner : 
 
 " he must not see me." 
 
 " No, for Heaven's sake," cried Miss Woodley : 
 
 " 1 would not have him see you in such a disguise 
 
 for the universe." 
 
 " And yet," returned the other, with a sigh, 
 
 " why am I then thus pleased with my dress ? for I 
 
 had rather he should admire me than all the world 
 
 besides, and yet he alone must not see me in it." 
 " But he would not admire you so dressed," said 
 
 Miss Woodley. 
 
 " How shall 1 contrive to avoid him," said Miss 
 
 Milner, " if in the evening he should oiler to hand 
 
 me into my carriage ? But I believe he will not be 
 
 in good humour enough to do that." 
 
 " You had better dress at the house of the ladies 
 
 with whom you go," said Miss Woodley ; and this 
 
 was agreed upon.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 1G1 
 
 At dinner they learnt that Lord Elmwood was to 
 go that evening to Windsor, in order to be in readi- 
 ness for the king's hunt early in the morning. This 
 intelligence having dispersed Miss Milner's fears, 
 she concluded upon dressing at home. 
 
 Lord Elmwood appeared at dinner, in an even, 
 but not in a good temper. The subject of the mas- 
 querade was never mentioned, nor indeed was it 
 once in his thoughts ; for though he was offended at 
 his ward's behaviour on the occasion, and considered 
 that she committed a fault in telling him, " she would 
 go," yet he never suspected she meant to do so; 
 not even at the time she said she did ; much less that 
 she would persist, coolly and deliberately, in so 
 direct a contradiction to his will. She, on her part, 
 flattered herself, that his going to Windsor was 
 intended in order to give her an opportunity of pass- 
 ing the evening as she pleased, without his being 
 obliged to know of it, and consequently to complain. 
 Miss Woodley, who was willing to hope as she 
 wished, began to be of the same opinion ; and, 
 without reluctance, dressed herself as a wood- 
 nymph to accompany her friend. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 At half after eleven, Miss Milner's chair and an- 
 other with Miss Woodley took them from Lord 
 Elmwood's, to call upon the party (wood-nymphs 
 and huntresses) who were to accompany them, 
 and make up the suite of Diana. 
 
 They had not left the house two minutes, when a 
 thundering rap came at the door : it was Lord Elm- 
 wood in a post-chaise. Upon some occasion the 
 next dav's hunt was deferred : he had been made 
 p 3
 
 162 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 acquainted with it, and came from Windsor at that 
 late hour. After he had informed Mrs. Horton and 
 Mr. Sandford, who were sitting together, of the 
 cause of his sudden return, and had some supper 
 ordered to be brought in for him, he inquired, 
 " what company had been supping there." 
 
 " We have been alone the whole evening, my 
 lord," replied Mrs. Horton. 
 
 " Nay," returned he, " I saw two chairs, with 
 several servants, come out of the door as 1 drove 
 up, but what livery I could not discern." 
 
 " We have had no creature here," repeated Mrs. 
 Horton. 
 
 " Nor has Miss Milner had visitors?" asked he. 
 
 This brought Mrs. Horton to her recollection, 
 
 and she cried, " Oh ! now I know ; " and then 
 
 checked herself, as if she knew too much. 
 
 " What do you know, madam?" said he, sharply. 
 
 " Nothing," said Mrs. Horton, " I know no- 
 thing ; " and she lifted up her hands ami shook 
 her head. 
 
 " So all people say, who know a great deal," 
 cried Sandford ; " and I suspect that is at present 
 your case." 
 
 " Then I know more than I wish, I am sure, Mr. 
 Sandford," returned she, shrugging up her shoul- 
 ders. 
 
 Lord Ehnwood was all impatience. 
 
 " Explain, madam, explain." 
 
 " Dear, my lord," said she, " if your lordship 
 will recollect, you may just have the same know- 
 ledge that I have." 
 
 " Recollect what?" said he, sternly. 
 
 " The quarrel you and your ward had about the 
 masquerade." 
 
 " What of that? She is not gone there?" he cried. 
 
 "I am not sure she is," returned Mrs. Horton.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 163 
 
 " But if your lordship saw two sedau chairs going 
 out of this house, 1 cannot hut suspect it must be 
 Miss Miluer and my niece going to the masquerade." 
 
 He made no answer, but rang the bell violently. 
 A servant entered. " Send Miss Milner's maid 
 hither," said he, " immediately." The man with- 
 drew. 
 
 " Nay, my lord," cried Mrs. Horton, " any of 
 the other servants could tell you just as well, whe- 
 ther Miss Milner is at home, or gone out." 
 
 " Perhaps not," replied he. 
 
 The maid entered. 
 
 " Where is your mistress ?" said Lord Elmwo:)d. 
 
 The woman had received no orders to conceal 
 where the ladies were gone, and yet a secret influ- 
 ence, which governs the thoughts of all waiting- 
 women and chambermaids, whispered to her that 
 she ought not to tell the truth. 
 
 " Where is your mistress?" repeated he, in a 
 louder voice than before. 
 
 " Gone out, my lord," she replied. 
 
 " Where?" 
 
 " My lady did not tell me." 
 
 " And don't you know?" 
 
 " No, my lord," she answered, and without 
 blushing. 
 
 " Is this the night of the masquerade?" said he. 
 
 " I don't know, my lord, upon my word ; but I 
 believe, my lord, it is not." 
 
 Sandford, as soon as Lord Elmwood had asked the 
 last question, ran hastily to the table, at the other 
 side of the room, took something from it, and return- 
 ed to his place again ; and when the maid said, " It 
 was not the night of the masquerade," he exclaimed, 
 " But it is, my lord, it is yes, it is !" and shewing 
 a newspaper in his hand, pointed to the paragraph 
 which contained the information.
 
 164 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " Leave the room," said Lord Elrawood to the 
 woman: " I have done with you." She went away. 
 
 " Yes, yes, here it is," repeated Sandford, with 
 the paper still in his hand. He then read the para- 
 graph : " The masquerade at the /tight Honourable 
 
 Lady G 's this evening" ' This evening, my 
 
 lord, you find' " it is expected will be the most 
 brilliant of any thing of the kind for these many 
 years past." 
 
 " They should not put such things in the papers," 
 said Mrs. Horton, " to tempt young women to their 
 ruin." The word ruin grated upon Lord Elmwood's 
 ear ; and he said to the servant who came to wait 
 on him while he supped, " Take the supper away." 
 He had not attempted either to eat, or even to sit 
 down ; and he now walked backwards and forwards 
 in the room, lost in thought and care. 
 
 A little time after, one of Miss Milner's footmen 
 came in upon some occasion, and Mr. Sandford said 
 to him, " Pray did you attend your lady to the 
 masquerade?" 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied the man. 
 
 Lord Elmwood stopped himself short in his walk, 
 and said to the servant, " You did?" 
 
 " Yes, my lord," replied he. 
 
 He walked again. 
 
 " I should like to know what she was dressed in," 
 said Mrs. Horton ; and turning to the servant, " Do 
 you know what your lady had on 1 " 
 
 " Yes, madam," replied the man: " she was in 
 men's clothes." 
 
 " How ! " cried Lord Elmwood. 
 
 " You tell a story, to be sure," said Mrs. Horton 
 to the servant. 
 
 " No," cried Sandford, " I am sure he does not ; 
 for he is an honest good young man, and would not 
 tell a lie upon any account. Would you, Tnomas?"
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 165 
 
 Lord Elmwood ordered Miss Milner's woman to 
 be again sent up. She came. 
 
 " In what dress did your lady go to the masque- 
 rade?" he asked, and with a look so extremely 
 morose, it seemed to command the answer in a 
 single word, and that word to be truth. 
 
 A mind, with a spark of sensibility more than this 
 woman possessed, could not have equivocated with 
 such an interrogator ; but her reply was, " She went 
 in her own dress, my lord." 
 
 " Was it a man's or a woman's?" asked he, with 
 a look of the same command. 
 
 " Ha, ha, my lord ! " half laughing and half 
 crying: " a woman's dress, to be sure, my lord." 
 
 On which Sandford cried 
 
 " Call the footman up, and let him confront her." 
 
 He was called ; but Lord Elmwood, now disgust- 
 ed at the scene, withdrew to the further end of the 
 room, and left Sandford to question them. 
 
 With all the authority and consequence of a 
 country magistrate, Sandford, his back to the fire, 
 and the witnesses before him, began with the foot- 
 man. 
 
 " In what dress do you say that you saw your 
 lady decorated, when you attended, and went along 
 with her to the masquerade ? " 
 
 " In men's clothes," replied the man, boldly and 
 firmly as before. 
 
 " Bless my soul, Thomas, how can you say such 
 a thing?" cried the woman. 
 
 " What dress do you say she went in ? " cried 
 Sandford to her. 
 
 " In women's clothes, indeed, sir." 
 
 " This is very odd ! " said Mrs. Ilorton. 
 " Had she on, or had she not on, a coat?" 
 asked Sandford. 
 
 " Yes, sir, a petticoat," replied the woman.
 
 166 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " Do you say she had on a petticoat?" said 
 Sandford to the man. 
 
 " I can't answer exactly for that," replied he ; 
 " but I know she had boots on." 
 
 " They were not boots," replied the maid, with 
 vehemence. " Indeed, sir," turning to Sandford, 
 " they were only half boots." 
 
 " My girl," said Sandford kindly to her, : ' your 
 own evidence convicts your mistress : what has a 
 woman to do with any boots ? " 
 
 Impatient at this mummery, Lord Elmwood rose, 
 ordered the servants out of the room, and then, 
 looking at his watch, found it was near one. " At 
 what hour am I to expect her home"? " said he. 
 
 " Perhaps not till three in the morning," answered 
 Mrs. Horton. 
 
 " Three ! more likely six," cried Sandford. 
 
 " I can't wait with patience till that time," 
 answered Lord Elmwood, with a deep and most 
 anxious sigh. 
 
 " You had better go to bed, my lord," said Mrs. 
 Horton ; " and, by sleeping, the time will pass away 
 unperceived." 
 
 " If I could sleep, madam." 
 
 " Will you play a game of cards, my lord ? " said 
 Sandford ; " for I will not leave you till she comes 
 home ; and though I am not used to sit up all 
 night " 
 
 " All night ! " repeated Lord Elmwood : ** she 
 dares not stay all night." 
 
 " And yet, after going," said Sandford, " in de- 
 fiance to your commands, I should suppose she 
 dared." 
 
 " She is in good company, at least, my lord," 
 said Mrs. Horton. 
 
 " She does not know herself what company she 
 is in," replied he.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 167 
 
 " How should she," cried Sandford, " where 
 every one hides his face 1 " 
 
 Till five o'clock in the morning, in conversation 
 such as this, the hours lingered away. Mrs. Horton, 
 indeed, retired to her chamber at two, and left the 
 gentlemen to a more serious discourse ; but a dis- 
 course still less advantageous to poor Miss Milner. 
 
 She, during this time, was at the scene of pleasure 
 she had painted to herself ; and all the pleasure it 
 gave her was, that she was sure she should never 
 desire to go to a masquerade again. Its crowd and 
 bustle fatigued her its freedom offended her deli- 
 cacy : and though she perceived that she was the 
 first object of admiration in the place, yet there was 
 one person still wanting to admire ; and the regret 
 at having transgressed his injunctions for so trivial 
 an entertainment, weighed upon her spirits, and 
 added to their weariness. She would have come 
 away sooner than she did : but she could not, with 
 any degree of good manners, leave the company 
 with whom she went ; and not till half after four 
 were they prevailed on to return. 
 
 Daylight just peeped through the shutters of the 
 room in which Lord Elmwood and Sandford were 
 sitting, when the sound of her carriage, and the 
 sudden stop it made at the door, caused Lord Elm- 
 wood to start from his chair. He trembled ex- 
 tremely, and looked pale. Sandford was ashamed 
 to seem to notice it, yet he could not help asking 
 him, " to take a glass of wine." He took it, and 
 for once evinced he was reduced so low as to be 
 glad of such a resource. 
 
 What exact passion thus agitated Lord Elmwood 
 at this crisis it is hard to define. Perhaps it was 
 indignation at Miss Milner's imprudence, and ex- 
 ultation at being on the point of revenge : perhaps 
 his emotion arose from joy, to find that she was
 
 168 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 safe returned : perhaps it was perturbation at the 
 grief he felt that he must upbraid her : perhaps 
 it was not one alone of these sensations, but all of 
 them combined. 
 
 She, wearied out with the tedious night's dissipa- 
 tion, and far less joyous than melancholy, had fallen 
 asleep as she rode home, and came half asleep out 
 of her carriage. " Light me to my bedchamber 
 instantly," said she to her maid, who waited in the 
 hall to receive her. But one of Lord Elmwood's 
 valets went up to her, and answered, " Madam, my 
 lord desires to see you before you retire." 
 
 " Your lord !" she cried : " is he not from town?" 
 " No, madam, my lord has been at home ever 
 since you went out ; and has been sitting up with 
 Mr. Sandford waiting for you." 
 
 She was wide awake immediately. The heaviness 
 was removed from her eyes; but fear, sorrow, and 
 shame, seized upon her heart. She leaned against 
 her maid, as if unable to support herself under those 
 feelings, and said to Miss Woodley, 
 
 " Make my excuse I cannot see him to-night 
 I am unfit indeed I cannot." 
 
 Miss Woodley was alarmed at the prospect of 
 going to him by herself, and thus, perhaps, irritating 
 him still more : she, therefore, said, " He has sent 
 for you; for Heaven's sake, do not disobey him a 
 second time." 
 
 " No, dear madam, don't," cried her woman, 
 " for he is like a lion he has been scolding me." 
 
 " Good God ! " exclaimed Miss Milner, and in 
 a tone that seemed prophetic : " then he is not to 
 be my husband, after all!" 
 
 " Yes," cried Miss Woodley, " if you will only 
 be humble, and appear sorry. You know your 
 power over him, and all may yet be well." 
 
 She turned her speaking eyes upon her friend,
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 169 
 
 the tears starting from them, her lips trembling 
 ' ' Do I not appear sorry ?" she cried . 
 
 The hell at that moment rang furiously, and they 
 hastened their steps to the door of the apartment 
 where Lord Rlmwood was. 
 
 " No," replied Miss Woodley to her last question, 
 " this shuddering is only fright : say to him you are 
 sorry, and beg his pardon." 
 
 " 1 cannot," replied she, " if Mr. Sandford be with 
 him." 
 
 The servant opened the door, and she and Miss 
 Woodley went in. Lord Elmwood, by this time, 
 was composed, and received her with a slight incli- 
 nation of his head : she bowed to him in return, and 
 said, with some marks of humility, 
 
 " I suppose, my lord, I have done wrong." 
 
 " You have indeed, Miss Milner," answered he ; 
 " but do not suppose, that I mean to upbraid you : 
 I am, on the contrary, going to release you from any 
 such apprehension Jot the future." 
 
 Those last three words he delivered with a coun- 
 tenance so serious and so determined, with an accent 
 so firm and so decided, they pierced through her 
 heart. Yet she did not weep, or even sigh ; but her 
 friend, knowing what she felt, exclaimed, " Oh !" 
 as if for her. 
 
 She herself strove with her anguish, and replied, 
 (but with a faltering voice) " I expected as much, 
 my lord." 
 
 " Then, madam, you perhaps expect all that I 
 intend V 
 
 " In regard to myself," she replied, " I suppose 
 I do." 
 
 " Then," said he, " you may expect that in a few 
 days we shall part." 
 
 " I am prepared for it, my lord," she answered, 
 and, while she said so, sunk upon a chair. 
 
 VOL. XXVIII. Q
 
 170 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " My lord, what you have to say farther," said 
 Miss Woodley, in tears, " defer till the morning : 
 Miss Miluer, you see, is not able to bear it now." 
 
 " I have nothing to say farther," replied he coolly: 
 " I have now only to act." 
 
 "Lord Elmwood," cried Miss Milner, divided 
 between grief and anger, '* you think to terrify me 
 by your menaces; but I can part with you : Heaven 
 knows I can. Your late behaviour has reconciled 
 me to a separation." 
 
 On this he was going out of the room ; but Miss 
 Woodley, catching hold of him, cried, " Oh ! my 
 lord, do not leave her in this sorrow : pity her weak- 
 ness, and forgive it." She was proceeding ; and he 
 seemed as if inclined to listen, when Sandford called 
 ont in a tone of voice so harsh, 
 
 " Miss Woodley, what do you mean ?" She gave 
 a start, and desisted. 
 
 Lord Elmwood then turned to Sandford, and said, 
 *' Nay, Mr. Sandford, you need entertain no doubts 
 of me : I have judged, and have deter " 
 
 He was going to say determined ; but Miss Milner 
 who dreaded the word, interrupted the period, and 
 exclaimed, " Oh ! could my poor father know the 
 days of sorrow I have experienced since his death, 
 how would he repent his fatal choice of a protector !" 
 
 This sentence, in which his friend's memory was 
 recalled, with an additional allusion to her long and 
 secret love for him, affected Lord Elmwood. He 
 was much moved, but ashamed of being so, and as 
 soon as possible conquered the propensity to forgive. 
 Yet, for a short interval, he did not know whether 
 to go out of the room, or to remain in it ; whether 
 to speak, or to be silent. At length he turned to- 
 wards her, and said, 
 
 " Appeal to your father in some other form : in 
 that (pointing at her dress), he will not know you.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 17 L 
 
 Reflect upon him, too, in your moments of dis- 
 sipation, and let his memory controul your indiscre- 
 tions ; not merely in an hour of contradiction call 
 peevishly upon his name, only to wound the dearest 
 friend you have." 
 
 There was a degree of truth, and a degree of pas- 
 sionate feeling, in the conclusion of this speech, that 
 alarmed Sandford : he caught up one of thecandles 
 and, laying hold of his friend's elbow, drew him out 
 of the room, crying, " Come, my lord, come to your 
 bedchamber it is very late it is morning it is 
 time to rise." And by a continual repetition of 
 these words, in a very loud voice, he wilfully drowned 
 whatever Lord Elmwood, or any other person, might 
 have wished either to have said or to have heard. 
 
 In this manner, Lord Elmwood was forced out 
 of the apartment, and the evening's vicissitudes 
 ended. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 Two whole days passed in the bitterest suspense on 
 the part of Miss Milner, while neither one word nor 
 look from Lord Elmwood denoted the most trivial 
 change of the sentiments he had declared on the 
 night of the masquerade. Still those sentiments, or 
 intentions, were not explicitly delivered : they were 
 more like intimations, than solemn declarations 
 for though he had said, " he would never reproach 
 her fur the future" and that " she might expect 
 they should part," he had not positively said they 
 should : and upon this doubtful meaning of his 
 words, she hung with the strongest agitation of hope 
 and of fear. 
 
 Miss Woodlev, seeing the distress of her mind, 
 Q 2
 
 J72 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 (much as she endeavoured to conceal it), entreated, 
 nay implored of her, to permit her to be a mediator ; 
 to suffer her to ask for a private interview with Lord 
 Elmwood, and, if she found him inflexible, to behave 
 with a proper spirit in return ; but if he appeared 
 not absolutely averse to a reconciliation, to offer it 
 in so cautious a manner, that it might take place 
 without farther uneasiness on either side. But Miss 
 Milner peremptorily forbade this, and acknowledging 
 to her friend every weakness she felt on the occasion, 
 yet concluded with solemnly declaring, that " after 
 what had passed between her and Lord Elmwood, 
 he must be the first to make a concession, before she 
 herself would condescend to be reconciled." 
 
 " I believe I know Lord Elmwood's temper," 
 replied Miss Woodley ; " and I do not think he will 
 be easily induced to beg pardon for a fault which 
 he thinks you have committed." 
 
 " Then he does not love me." 
 
 " Pshaw ! Miss Milner, this is the old argument. 
 He may love you too well to spoil you. Consider 
 that he is your guardian as well as your lover : he 
 means also to become your husband ; and he is a 
 man of such nice honour, that he will not indulge 
 you with any power before marriage, to which he 
 does not intend to submit hereafter." 
 
 " But tenderness, affection, the politeness due 
 from a lover to his mistress demands his submission ; 
 and as I now despair of enticing, I will oblige him to 
 it : at least I'll make the experiment, and know my 
 fate at once." 
 
 " What do you mean to do ?" 
 
 " Invite Lord Frederick to the house, and ask my 
 guardian's consent for our immediate union : you 
 , will then see, what effect that measure will have 
 upon his pride." 
 
 " But \ou will then make it too late for him to be
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 173 
 
 humble. If you resolve on this, my dear Miss Mil- 
 ner, you are undone at once ; you may thus hurry 
 yourself into a marriage with a man you do not love, 
 and the misery of your whole future life may be the 
 result. Or, would you force Mr. Dorriforth (I mean 
 Lord Ehnwood) to another duel with my Lord 
 Frederick ?" 
 
 " No, call him Dorriforth," answered she, with 
 the tears stealing from her eyes : " I thank you for 
 calling him so ; for by that name alone is he dear 
 to me." 
 
 " Nay, Miss Milner, with what rapture did you 
 not receive his love, as Lord Ehnwood ! " 
 
 " But under this title he has been barbarous : 
 under the first, he was all friendship and tender- 
 ness." 
 
 Notwithstanding Miss Milner indulged herself in 
 all these soft bewailings to her friend ; before Lord 
 Elmwood she maintained a degree of pride and 
 steadiness which surprised even him, who perhaps 
 thought less of her love for him than any other 
 person. She now began to fear she had gone too 
 tar in discovering her affection, and resolved to make 
 trial of a contrary method. She determined to 
 retrieve that haughty character which had inspired 
 so many of her admirers with passion, and take the 
 chance of its effect upon this only suitor, to whom 
 she ever acknowledged a mutual attachment. But 
 although she resumed and acted this character well 
 so well that every one but Miss Woodley thought 
 her in earnest ; yet, with nice and attentive anxiety, 
 she watched even the slightest circumstances that 
 might revive her hopes, or confirm her despair. 
 Lord Elmwood's behaviour was calculated only to 
 produce the latter : he was cold, polite, and per- 
 fectly indifferent. Yet, whatever his manners now 
 were, thev did not remove from her recollection 
 Q 3
 
 174 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 what they had been. She recalled, with delight, the 
 ardour with which he had first declared his passion 
 to her, and the thousand proofs he had since given 
 of its reality. From the constancy of his disposition, 
 she depended that sentiments like these were not 
 totally eradicated ; and from the extreme desire 
 which Mr. Sand ford now, more than ever, discovered 
 of depreciating her in his patron's esteem : from the 
 now more than common zeal which urged him to 
 take Lord Elmwood from her company, whenever 
 he had it in his power, she was led to believe that 
 while his friend entertained such strong fears of his 
 relapsing into love, she had reason to indulge the 
 strongest hopes that he would relapse. 
 
 But the reserve, and even indifference, that she 
 had so well assumed for a few days, and which might 
 perhaps have effected her design, she had not the 
 patience to persevere in, without calling levity to 
 their aid. She visited repeatedly without saying 
 where, or with whom ; kept later hours than usual, 
 appeared in the highest spirits ; sung, laughed, 
 and never heaved a sigh, but when she was alone. 
 
 Still Lord Elmwood protracted a resolution, that 
 he was determined he would never break when 
 taken. 
 
 Miss Woodley was excessively uneasy, and with 
 cause. She saw her friend was providing herself 
 with a weight of cares, which she might soon find 
 infinitely too much for her strength to bear. She 
 would have reasoned with her, but all her arguments 
 had long since proved unavailing. She wished to 
 speak to Lord Elmwood upon the subject, and (un- 
 known to her) plead her excuse; but he apprehended 
 Miss Woodley's intention, and evidently shunned 
 her. Mr. Sandford was now the only person to 
 whom she could speak of Miss Milner, and the de- 
 light he took to expatiate on her faults, was more
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 175 
 
 sorrow to her friend, than not to speak of her at all. 
 She, therefore, sat a silent spectator, waiting with 
 <lread for the time when she, who now scorned her 
 advice, would fly to her in vain for comfort. 
 
 Sandford had, however, said one thing to Miss 
 Woodley, which gave her a ray of hope. During 
 their conversation on the subject (not by way of 
 consolation to her, but as a reproach to Lord Elm- 
 wood), he one day angrily exclaimed, " And yet, 
 notwithstanding all this provocation, he has not come 
 to the determination that he will think no more of 
 her: he lingers and he hesitates. I never saw him 
 so weak upon any occasion before." 
 
 This was joyful hearing to Miss Woodley : still 
 she could not but reflect, the longer he was in com- 
 ing to this determination, the more irrevocable it 
 would be when once taken ; and every moment that 
 passed she trembled lest it should be the very mo- 
 ment, in which Lord Elmwood should resolve to 
 banish Miss Milner from his heart. 
 
 Amongst her unpardonable indiscretions, during 
 this trial upon the temper of her guardian, was the 
 frequent mention of many gentlemen who had been 
 her professed admirers, and the mention of thtm 
 with partiality . Teased, if not tortured, by this, 
 Lord Elmwood still behaved with a manly evenness 
 of temper, and neither appeared provoked on the 
 subject nor insolently careless. In a single in- 
 stance, however, this calmness was near deserting 
 him. 
 
 Entering the drawing-room, one evening, he 
 started, on seeing Lord Frederick Lawnley there, 
 in earnest conversation with Miss Milner. 
 
 Mrs. Horton and Miss Woodley were both indeed 
 present, and Lord Frederick was talking in an audible 
 voice upon some indifferent subjects ; but with that 
 impressive manner in which a man never fails to
 
 17G A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 speak to the woman he loves, be the subject what it 
 may. The moment Lord Elmwood started, which 
 was the moment he entered, Lord Frederick arose. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, my lord," said Lord Elm- 
 wood : " I protest I did not know you." 
 
 " I ought to entreat your lordship's pardon," re- 
 turned Lord Frederick, " for this intrusion, which 
 an accident alone has occasioned. Miss Milner has 
 been almost overturned by the carelessness of a 
 lady's coachman, in whose carriage she was, and 
 therefore suffered me to bring her home in mine." 
 
 " I hope you are not hurt," said Lord Elmwood 
 to Miss Milner ; but his voice was so much affected 
 by what he felt, that he could scarce articulate the 
 words. Not with the apprehension that she was 
 hurt was he thus agitated ; for the gaiety of her 
 manners convinced him that could not be the case : 
 nor did he indeed suppose any accident of the kind 
 mentioned had occurred ; but the circumstance of 
 unexpectedly seeing Lord Frederick had taken him 
 off his guard ; and being totally unprepared, he 
 could not conceal indications of the surprise and 
 of the shock it had given him. 
 
 Lord Frederick, who had heard nothing of his 
 intended union with his ward (for it was even kept 
 a secret, at present, from every servant in the house), 
 imputed this discomposure to the personal resent- 
 ment he might bear him, in consequence of their 
 duel : for though Lord Elmwood had assured the 
 uncle of Lord Frederick (who once waited upon 
 him on the subject of Miss Milner), that all resent- 
 ment was, on his part, entirely at an end ; and that 
 he was willing to consent to his ward's marriage with 
 his nephew, if she would concur ; yet Lord Fre- 
 derick doubted the sincerity of this protestation, and 
 would still have had the delicacy not to have entered 
 Lord Elm wood's house, had he not been encouraged
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 177 
 
 by Miss Milner, and emboldened by his love. Per- 
 sonal resentment was therefore the construction he 
 put upon Lord Elmwood's emotion on entering the 
 room ; but Miss Milner and MissWoodley knew his 
 agitation to arise from a far different cause. 
 
 After his entrance, Lord Frederick did not at- 
 tempt once to resume his seat, but having bowed 
 most respectfully to all present, he took his leave ; 
 while Miss Milner followed him as far as the door, 
 and repeated her thanks for his protection. 
 
 Lord Elmvvood was hurt beyond measure ; but 
 he had a second concern, which was, that he had 
 not the power to conceal how much he was affected. 
 He trembled. When he attempted to speak, he 
 stammered : he perceived his face burning with con- 
 fusion ; and thus one confusion gave birth to another, 
 till his state was pitiable. 
 
 Miss Milner, with all her assumed gaiety and real 
 insolence, had not, however, the insolence to seem 
 as if she observed him; she had only the confidence 
 to observe him by stealth. And Mrs. Horton and 
 Miss Woodley having opportunely begun a dis- 
 course upon some trivial occurrences, gave him time 
 to recover himself by degrees. Still it was merely 
 by degrees ; for the impression which this incident 
 had made was deep, and not easily to be erased. 
 The entrance of Mr. Sandford, who knew nothing 
 of what had happened, was, however, another relief; 
 for he began a conversation with him, which they 
 very soon retired into the library to terminate. 
 Miss Milner, taking Miss Woodley with her, went 
 directly to her own apartment, and there exclaimed 
 in rapture, 
 
 " He is mine he loves me and lie is mine for 
 ever." 
 
 Miss Woodley congratulated her upon believing 
 so, but confessed she herself " had her fears."
 
 178 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " What fears ?" cried Miss Milner. " Don't you 
 perceive that he loves me ? " 
 
 " I do," said Miss Woodley ; " but that I always 
 believed : and, I think, if he loves you now, he has 
 yet the good sense to know that he has reason to 
 hate you." 
 
 "What has good sense to do with love?" re- 
 turned Miss Milner. " If a lover of mine suffers his 
 understanding to get the better of his affection " 
 
 The same arguments were going to be repeated ; 
 but Miss Woodley interrupted her, by requiring an 
 explanation of her conduct as to Lord Frederick, 
 whom, at least, she was treating with cruelty, if she 
 only made use of his affection to stimulate that of 
 Lord Elmwood. 
 
 " By no means, my dear Miss Woodley," returned 
 she. " I have, indeed, done with my Lord Frederick 
 from this day, and he has certainly given me the 
 proof I wanted of Lord Elmwood's love; but then 
 I did not engage him to this by the smallest ray of 
 hope. No : do not suspect me of such artifice while 
 my heart was another's ; and I assure you, seriously, 
 that it was from the circumstance we described he 
 came with me home : yet, I must own, that if I had 
 not had this design upon Lord Elmwood's jealousy 
 in idea, I would have walked on foot through the 
 treets, rather than have suffered his rival's civilities. 
 But he pressed his services so violently, and my 
 Lady Evans (in whose coach I was when the acci- 
 dent happened) pressed me so violently to accept 
 them, that he cannot expect any farther meaning 
 from this acquiescence than my own convenience." 
 Miss Woodley was going to reply, when she re- 
 sumed, 
 
 " Nay, if you intend to say I have done wrong, 
 still 1 am not sorry for it, when it has given me such 
 convincing proofs of Lord Elmwood's love. Did
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 179 
 
 you see him ? I am afraid you did not see how he 
 trembled, nor observe how that manly voice fal- 
 tered, as mine does sometimes ? His proud heart 
 was humbled too, as mine is sometimes. Oh ! 
 Miss Woodley, I have been counterfeiting indif- 
 ference to him I now find that all his indifference 
 to me. has been counterfeit also, and that we not 
 only love, but love equally." 
 
 " Suppose this all as you hope, I yet think it 
 highly necessary that your guardian should be in- 
 formed, seriously informed, it was mere accident 
 (for, at present, that plea seems but as a subter- 
 fuge) which brought Lord Frederick hither." 
 
 " No; that will be destroying the work so success- 
 fully begun. I will not suffer any explanation to 
 take place, but let my Lord Elmwood act just as his 
 love shall dictate : and now I have no longer a doubt 
 of its excess, instead of stooping to him, I wait in 
 the certain expectation of his submission to me.'' 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 In vain, for three long days, did Miss Milner wait 
 impatiently for this submission ; not a sign, not a 
 symptom appeared. Nay, Lord Elmwood had, since 
 the evening of Lord Frederick's visit (which, at the 
 time it took place, seemed to affect him so exceed- 
 ingly), become just the same man he was before the 
 circumstance occurred : except, indeed, that he was 
 less thoughtful, and now and then cheerful ; but 
 without any appearance that his cheerfulness was 
 affected. Miss Milner was vext she was alarmed 
 but was ashamed to confess those humiliating
 
 180 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 sensations, even to Miss Woodley. She supported, 
 therefore, when in company, the vivacity she had so 
 long; assumed; but gave way, when alone, to a still 
 greater degree of melancholy than usual. She no 
 longer applauded her scheme of bringing Lord Fre- 
 derick to the house, and was terrified lest, on some 
 pretence, he should dare to call again. But as thes'e 
 were feelings which her pride would not suffer her 
 to disclose even to her friend, who would have con- 
 doled with her, their effects were doubly poignant. 
 Sitting in her dressing-room one forenoon with 
 Miss Woodley, and burthened with a load of grief 
 that she blushed to acknowledge ; while her com- 
 panion was charged with apprehensions that she too 
 was loth to disclose, one of Lord Elmwood's valets 
 tapped gently at the door, and delivered a letter to 
 Miss Milner. By the person who brought it, as 
 well as by the address, she knew it came from Lord 
 Elmwood, and laid it down upon her toilet, as if she 
 was fearful to unfold it. 
 
 " What is that?" said Miss Woodley. 
 " A letter from Lord Elmwood," replied Miss 
 Milner. 
 
 " Good Heaven !" exclaimed Miss Woodley. 
 " Nay," returned she, " it is, 1 have no doubt, a 
 letter to beg my pardon." But her reluctance to 
 open it plainly evinced she did not think so. 
 " Do not read it yet," said Miss Woodley. 
 " I do not intend it," replied she, trembling ex- 
 tremely. 
 
 " Will you dine first?" said Miss Woodley. 
 " No : for not knowing its contents, I shall not 
 know how to conduct myself towards him." 
 
 Here a silence followed. Miss Milner took up 
 the letter looked earnestly at the hand -writing on 
 the outside at the seal inspected into its folds
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 18L 
 
 and seemed to wish, by some equivocal method, to 
 guess at the contents, without having the courage 
 to come at the certain knowledge of them. 
 
 Curiosity, at length, got the better of her fears : 
 she opened the letter, and, scarcely able to hold it 
 while she read, she read the following words: 
 
 " MADAM, 
 
 " While I considered you only as my ward, my 
 friendship for you was unbounded ; when 1 looked 
 upon you as a woman formed to grace a fashionable 
 circle, my admiration equalled my friendship ; and 
 when fate permitted me to behold you in the tender 
 light of my betrothed wife, my soaring love left those 
 humbler passions at a distance. 
 
 " That you have still my friendship, my admira- 
 tion, and even my love, I will not attempt to deceive 
 either myself or you by disavowing : but still, with a 
 firm assurance, I declare, that prudence outweighs 
 them all ; and I have not, from henceforward, the 
 slightest desire to be regarded by you, in any other 
 respect than as one ' who wishes you well.' That 
 you ever beheld me in the endearing quality of a 
 destined and an affectionate husbaud (such as I 
 would have proved) has been a deception upon my 
 hopes. They acknowledge the mistake, and are 
 humbled : but 1 entreat you to spare their farther 
 trial, and for a single week not to insult me with 
 the open preference of another. In the short 
 space of that period I shall have taken my leave 
 of you -for ever. 
 
 " I shall visit Italy, and some other parts of the 
 continent ; from whence I propose passing to the 
 West Indies, in order to jnspect my possessions 
 there : nor shall I return to England till after a few 
 years absence; in which time 1 hope to become once 
 more reconciled to the change of state I am enjoined 
 
 VOL. XXVIII. R
 
 ]{J2 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 a change I now most fervently wish could be 
 entirely dispensed with. 
 
 " The occasion of my remaining' here a week 
 longer, is to settle some necessary affairs; among 
 which the principal is, that of delivering to a friend, 
 a man of worth and of tenderness, all those writings 
 which have invested me with the power of my 
 guardianship. He will, the day after my departure, 
 (without one upbraiding word) resign them to you 
 in my name ; and even your most respected father, 
 could he behold the resignation, would concur in its 
 propriety. 
 
 " And now, my dear Miss Milner, let not affected 
 resentment, contempt, or levity, oppose that sere- 
 nity, which, for the week to come, I wish to enjoy. 
 By complying with this request, give me to believe, 
 that, since you have been under my care, you think 
 I have, at least, faithfully discharged some part of 
 my duty. And, wherever I have been inadequate to 
 your expectations, attribute my demerits to some 
 infirmity of mind, rather than to a negligence of 
 your happiness. Yet, be the cause what it will, 
 since these faults have existed, I do not attempt to 
 disavow or extenuate them, and I beg your pardon. 
 
 " However time and a succession of objects 
 may eradicate more tender sentiments, I am sure 
 never to lose the liveliest anxiety for your welfare : 
 and with all that solicitude, which cannot be de- 
 scribed, I entreat for your own sake, for mine, 
 when we shall be far asunder, and for the sake of 
 your dead father's memory, that, upon every im- 
 portant occasion, you will call your serious judg- 
 ment to direct you. 
 
 " 1 am, madam, 
 
 " Your sincere*! friend, 
 
 " ELMWoOD."
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 183 
 
 After she had read every syllable of this letter 
 carefully, it dropped from her hands ; hut she ut- 
 tered not a word. There was, however, a paleness 
 in her face, a deadness in her eye, and a kind of 
 palsy over her frame, which Miss Wood ley, who 
 had seen her iu every stage of her unhappiness, 
 never had seen before. 
 
 " I do not want to read the letter," said Miss 
 Wood ley : " your looks tell me its contents." 
 
 " They will then discover to Lord Elmwood," 
 replied she, "what I feel; but, Heaven forbid 
 that would sink me even lower than I am." 
 
 Scarce able to move, she rose, and looked in her 
 glass, as if to arrange her features, and impose upon 
 him : alas ! it was of no avail a contented mind 
 could alone effect what she desired. 
 
 " You must endeavour," said Miss Woodley, " to 
 feel the disposition you wish to make appear." 
 
 " I will," replied she : " I will feel a proper pride, 
 and consequently a proper indifference to this 
 treatment." 
 
 And so desirous was she to attain the appearance 
 of these sentiments, that she made the strongest 
 efforts to calm her thoughts, in order to acquire it. 
 
 " I have but a few days to remain with him," she 
 said to herself, " and we part for ever. During 
 those few days it is not only my duty to obey his 
 commands, or rather comply with his request, but it 
 is also my wish to leave upon his mind an impression, 
 which may not add to the ill opinion he has formed 
 of me, but, perhaps, serve to diminish it. If, in 
 every other instance, my conduct has been blame- 
 able, he shall, at least in this, acknowledge its 
 merit. The fate I have drawn upon myself, he shall 
 find I can be resigned to ; and he shall be convinced, 
 that the woman, of whose weakness he has had so 
 many fatal proofs, is yet in possession of some for- 
 R 2
 
 184 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 titude fortitude, to bid him farewel, without dis- 
 covering one affected or one real pang, though her 
 death should be the consequence of her suppressed 
 sufferings." 
 
 Thus she resolved and thus she acted. The 
 severest judge could not have arraigned her conduct, 
 from the day she received Lord Elmwood's letter, 
 to the day of his departure. She had, indeed, in- 
 voluntary weaknesses, but none with which she did 
 not struggle, and in general her struggles were 
 victorious. 
 
 The first time she saw him after the receipt of his 
 letter, was on the evening of the same day. She 
 had a little concert of amateurs of music, and was 
 herself singing and playing when he entered the 
 room: the connoisseurs immediately perceived she 
 made a false cadence ; but Lord Elmwood was no 
 connoisseur in the art, and he did not observe it. 
 
 They occasionally spoke to each other during the 
 evening, but the subjects were general ; and though 
 their manners, every time they spoke, were perfectly 
 polite, they were not marked with the smallest degree 
 of familiarity. To describe his behaviour exactly, 
 it was the same as his letter polite, friendly, com- 
 posed, and resolved. Some of the company staid 
 supper, which prevented the embarrassment that 
 must unavoidably have arisen, had the family been 
 by themselves. 
 
 The next morning each breakfasted in his separate 
 apartments more company dined with them : in 
 the evening, and at supper, Lord Elmwood was 
 from home. 
 
 Thus, all passed on as peaceably as he had re- 
 quested, and Miss Milner had not betrayed one 
 particle of frailty ; when, the third day at dinner, 
 some gentlemen of his acquaintance being at table, 
 one of them said,
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 185 
 
 " And so, my lord, you absolutely set off on 
 Tuesday morning?" 
 
 This was Friday. 
 
 Sandford and he both replied at the same time, 
 " Yes." And Sandford, but not Lord Elmwood, 
 looked at Miss Milner when he spoke. Her knife 
 and fork gave a sudden spring- in her hand, but no 
 other emotion witnessed what she felt. 
 
 " Aye, Elmwood," cried another gentleman at 
 table, " you'll bring home, 1 am afraid, a foreign 
 wife, and that I shan't forgive." 
 
 " It is his errand abroad, I make no doubt," said 
 another visitor. 
 
 Before he could return au answer, Sandford cried, 
 " And what objection to a foreigner for a wife? Do 
 not crowned heads all marry foreigners? And who 
 happier in the married state than some kings? " 
 
 Lord Elmwood directed his eyes to the side of the 
 table, opposite to that where Miss Milner sat. 
 
 " Nay," answered one of the guests, who was a 
 country gentleman, " what do you say, ladies ? Do 
 you think my lord ought to go out of his own nation 
 for a wife?" and he looked at Miss Milner for the 
 reply. 
 
 Miss Woodley, uneasy at her friend's being thus 
 forced to give an opinion upon so delicate a subject, 
 endeavoured to satisfy the gentleman, by answering 
 to the question herself: " Whoever my Lord Elm- 
 wood marries, sir," said Miss Woodley, " he, no 
 doubt, will be happy.' 
 
 " But what say you, madam? " asked the visitor, 
 still keeping his eyes on Miss Milner. 
 
 " That whoever Lord Elmwood marries, he de- 
 serves to be happy," she returned, with the utmost 
 command of her voice and looks ; for Miss Woodley, 
 by replying first, had given her time to collect her- 
 self. 
 
 R 3
 
 180 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 The colour flew to Lord Elmwood's face, as she 
 delivered this short sentence ; and Miss Woodley 
 persuaded herself she saw a tear start in his eye. 
 
 Miss Milner did not look that way. 
 
 In an instant he found means to change the topic, 
 but that of his journey still employed the conversa- 
 tion ; and what horses, servants, and carriages he 
 took with him, was minutely asked, and so accu- 
 rately answered, either by himself or by Mr. Sand- 
 ford, that Miss Milner, although she had known her 
 doom before, till now had received no circumstantial 
 account of it ; and as circumstances increase or 
 diminish all we feel, the hearing these things in de- 
 tail described increased the bitterness of their truth. 
 
 Soon after dinner the ladies retired ; and from 
 that time, though Miss Milner's behaviour continued 
 the same, yet her looks and her voice were totally 
 altered. For the world, she could not have looked 
 cheerfully: for the world, she could not have spoken 
 with a sprightly accent: she frequently began in one, 
 but not three words did she utter, before her tones 
 sunk into a melody of dejection. Not only her 
 colour but her features became changed ; her eyes 
 lost their brilliancy, her lips seemed to hang without 
 the power of motion, her head drooped, and her 
 dress looked neglected. Conscious of this appear- 
 ance, and conscious of the cause from whence it 
 arose, it was her desire to hide herself from the fatal 
 object, the source of her despondency. Accord- 
 ingly, she sat alone, or with Miss Woodley in her 
 own apartment, as much as was consistent with that 
 civility which her guardian had requested, and which 
 forbade her from totally absenting herself. 
 
 Miss Woodley felt so acutely the torments of 
 her friend, that had not her reason told her, that the 
 inflexible mind of Lord Elmwood was fixed beyond 
 her power to shake, she had cast herself at his feet,
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 187 
 
 and implored the return of his affection and tender- 
 ness, as the only means to save his once-beloved 
 ward from an untimely grave. But her understand- 
 ing her knowledge of his firm and immoveable 
 temper, and of all his provocations her knowledge 
 of his word, long since given to Sandford, " That if 
 once resolved, he would not recal his resolution," 
 the certainty of the various plans arranged for his 
 travels, all convinced her, that by any interference, 
 she would only expose Miss Milner's love and deli- 
 cacy to a contemptuous rejection. 
 
 If the conversation, when the family were as- 
 sembled, did not every day turn upon the subject of 
 Lord Elmwood's departure a conversation he evi- 
 dently avoided himself; yet, every day, some new 
 preparation for his journey struck either the ear 
 or the eye of Miss Milner; and had she beheld a 
 trightful spectre, she could not have shuddered with 
 more horror, than when she unexpectedly passed 
 his large trunks in the hall, nailed and corded, ready 
 to be sent off to meet him at Venice. At the sight, 
 she flew from the company that chanced to be with 
 her, and stole to the first lonely corner of the house 
 to conceal her tears : she reclined her head upon 
 her hands, and bedewed them with the sudden an- 
 guish that had overcome her. She heard a footstep 
 advancing towards the spot where she hoped to have 
 been secreted ; she lifted up her eyes, and saw Lord 
 Elmwood. Pride was the first emotion his presence 
 inspired ; pride, which arose from the humility into 
 which she was plunged. 
 
 She looked at him earnestly, as if to imply, " What 
 now, my lord ? " 
 
 He only answered with a bow, which expressed, 
 "I beg your pardon," and immediately withdrew. 
 
 Thus each understood the other's language, with- 
 out either having uttered a word.
 
 188 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 The just construction she put upon his looks and 
 manner upon this occasion kept up her spirits for 
 some little time; and she blessed Heaven for the 
 singular favour of showing to her, clearly, by this 
 accident his negligence of her sorrows, his total 
 indifference. 
 
 The next day was the eve of that on which he was 
 to depart of the day on which she was to bid adieu 
 to Dorriforth, to her guardian, to Lord Elm wood ; 
 to all her hopes at once. 
 
 The moment she awoke on Monday morning, the 
 recollection, that this was, perhaps, the last day she 
 was ever again to see him, softened all the resent- 
 ment his yesterday's conduct had raised : forgetting 
 his austerity, and all she had once termed cruelties, 
 she now only remembered his friendship, his tender- 
 ness, and his love. She was impatient to see him, 
 and promised herself, for this last day, to neglect 
 no one opportunity of being with him. For that 
 purpose she did not breakfast in her own room, as 
 she had done for several mornings before, but went 
 into the breakfast-room, where all the family in 
 geueral met. She was rejoiced on hearing his voice 
 as she opened the door ; yet the mere sound made 
 her tremble so much, that she could scarcely totter 
 to the table. 
 
 Miss Woodley looked at her as she entered, and 
 was never so shocked at seeing her ; for never had 
 she yet seen her look so ill. As she approached, she 
 made an inclination of her head to Mrs. Horton . 
 then to her guardian, as was her custom, when she 
 first saw them in a morning : he looked in her face 
 as he bowed in return, then fixed his eyes upon the 
 fire-place, rubbed his forehead, and began talking 
 with Mr. Sandford. 
 
 Sandford, during breakfast, by accident cast a 
 glance upon Miss Milner : his attention was caught
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 189 
 
 by her deathlike countenance,and he looked earnestly. 
 He then turned to Lord Elmwood, to see if he 
 was observing her appearance : he was not and so 
 much were her thoughts engaged on him alone, that 
 she did not once perceive Sandford gazing at her. 
 
 Mrs. Horton, after a little while, observed, " It 
 was a beautiful morning." 
 
 Lord Elmwood said, " He thought he heard it 
 rain in the night." 
 
 Sandford cried, " For his part he slept too well to 
 know." And then (unasked) held a plate with 
 biscuits to Miss Milner: it was the first civility he 
 had ever in his life offered her : she smiled at the 
 whimsicality of the circumstance, but she took one 
 in return for his attention. He looked grave beyond 
 his usual gravity, and yet not with his usual ill 
 temper. She did not eat what she had so politely 
 taken, but laid it down soon after. 
 
 Lord Elmwood was the first who rose from break- 
 fast, and he did not return to dinner. 
 
 At dinner Mrs. Horton said, " she hoped he 
 would, however, favour them with his company at 
 supper." 
 
 To which Sandford replied, " No doubt, for you 
 will hardly any of you see him in the morning; as 
 we shall be oft' by six, or soon after." 
 
 Sandford was not going abroad with Lord Elm- 
 wood, but was to go with him as far as Dover. 
 
 These words of his " not see Lord Elmwood in 
 the morning " (which conveyed the sense, never 
 again to see him after this evening) were like the 
 knell of death to Miss Milner. She felt the symp- 
 toms of fainting, and hurried by the dread of a swoon, 
 snatched from the hand of a servant a glass of water, 
 which Sandford had just then called for, and drauk 
 it hastily. As she returned the glass to the servant,
 
 190 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 she began to apologize to Mr. Sandford but before 
 she could utter what she intended, he said, rather 
 kindly, " Never mind you are welcome : I am glad 
 you took it." She looked at him to observe whether 
 he had really spoken kindly, or ironically : but be- 
 fore his countenance could satisfy her, her thoughts 
 were called away from that trivial matter, and again 
 fixed upon Lord Elmwood. 
 
 The moments seemed tedious till he came home 
 to supper; and yet, when she reflected how short the 
 remainder of the evening would be after that time, 
 she wished to defer the hour of his return for 
 months. At ten o'clock he arrived ; and at half 
 after ten the family, without any visitor, met at 
 supper. 
 
 Miss Milner had considered, that the period for 
 her to counterfeit appearances was diminished now 
 to a most contracted one ; and she rigorously en- 
 joined herself not to shrink from the little which 
 remained. The certain end, that would be, so soon, 
 put to this painful deception, encouraged her to 
 struggle through it with redoubled zeal ; and this 
 was but necessary, as her weakness increased. 
 She therefore listened, she talked, and even smiled 
 with the rest of the company, nor did their vivacity 
 seem to arise from a much less compulsive source 
 than her own. 
 
 It was past twelve, when Lord Elmwood looked 
 at his watch, and rising from his chair, went up to 
 Mrs. Horton, and, taking her hand, said, " Till I see 
 you again, madam, I sincerely wish you every hap- 
 piness." 
 
 Miss Milner fixed her eyes upon the table before 
 her. 
 
 " My lord," replied Mrs. Horton, " I sincerely 
 wish you health and happiness likewise."
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 1 J> f 
 
 He then went to Miss Woodley, and, taking her 
 hand, repeated much the same as he had said to 
 Mrs. Horton. 
 
 Miss Milner now trembled beyond all power of 
 concealment. 
 
 " My lord," replied Miss Woodley, a good deal 
 affected, " 1 sincerely hope my prayers for your 
 happiness may be heard." 
 
 She and Mrs. Horton were both standing, as well 
 as Lord Elm wood ; but Miss Milner kept her seat, 
 till his eye was turned upon her, and he moved slow- 
 ly towards her : she then rose ; every one who was 
 present, attentive to what he would now say, and 
 how she would receive what he said, here cast their 
 eyes upon them, and listened with impatience. 
 They were ail disappointed : he did not utter a 
 syllable. Yet he took her hand, and held it closely 
 between his. He then bow ed most respectfully and 
 left her. 
 
 No sentence of, " I wish you well "I wish you 
 health and happiness ; no " prayers for blessings 
 on her ;" not even the word " farewel," escaped 
 his lips. Perhaps, to have attempted any of these 
 might have impeded his utterance. 
 
 She had behaved with fortitude the whole evening, 
 and she continued to do so, till the moment he turn- 
 ed away from her. Her eyes then overflowed with 
 tears ; and in the agony of her mind, not knowing 
 what she did, she laid her cold hand upon the person 
 next to her : it happened to be Sandford ; but not 
 observing it was he, she grasped his hand with vio- 
 lence ; yet he did not snatch it away, nor look at her 
 with his wonted severity. And thus she stood, 
 silent and motionless, while Lord Ehuwood, now at 
 the door, bowed once more to all the company, and 
 retired.
 
 192 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 Sandford had still Miss Milner's hand fixed upon 
 his ; and when the door was shut after Lord Elm- 
 wood, he turned his head to look in her face, and 
 turned it with some marks of apprehension for the 
 grief he might find there. She strove to overcome 
 that grief, and, after a heavy sigh, sat down, as if 
 resigned to the fate to which she was decreed. 
 
 Instead of following Lord Elmwood, as usual, 
 Sandford poured out a glass of wine, and drank it. 
 A general silence ensued for near three minutes. 
 At last turning himself round on his chair towards 
 Miss Milner, who sat like a statue of despair at his 
 side, " Will you breakfast with us to-morrow ?" 
 said he. 
 
 She made no answer. 
 
 " We sha'n't breakfast before half after six," con- 
 tinued he, " I dare say ; and if you can rise so early 
 why do." 
 
 " Miss Milner," said Miss Woodley, (for she 
 caught eagerly at the hope of her passing this night 
 in less unhappiness than she had foreboded), " pray 
 rise at that hour to breakfast : Mr. Sandford would 
 not invite you, if he thought it would displease 
 Lord Elmwood." 
 
 " Not I," replied Sandford, churlishly. 
 
 " Then desire her maid to call her," said Mrs. 
 Horton to Miss Woodley. 
 
 " Nay, she will be awake, 1 have no doubt ;" re- 
 turned her niece. 
 
 " No," replied Miss Milner, " since Lord Elm- 
 wood has thought proper to take his leave of me, 
 without even speaking a word, by my own design 
 never will I see him again:" and her tears burst 
 forth, as if her heart burst at the same time. 
 
 " Why did not you speak to him ?" cried Sandford 
 " Pray did you bid him farewel 1 And I don't see
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 193 
 
 % 
 
 why one is not as much to be blamed in that respect 
 as the other." 
 
 " I was too weak to say I wished him happy," 
 cried Miss Milner ; " but Heaven is my witness, I 
 do wish him so from my soul." 
 
 " And do you imagine he does not wish you so ?" 
 cried Sandford. "You should judge him by your 
 own heart : and what you feel for him, imagine he 
 feels for you, my dear.'' 
 
 Though " my dear" is a trivial phrase, yet from 
 certain people, and upon certain occasions, it is a 
 phrase of infinite comfort and assurance. Mr. Sand- 
 ford seldom said " my dear" to any one to Miss 
 Milner never; and upon this occasion and from 
 him, it was an expression most precious. 
 
 She turned to him with a look of gratitude : but 
 as she only looked, and did not speak, he rose up, 
 and soon after said, with a friendly tone he had sel- 
 dom used in her presence, " I sincerely wish you a 
 good night." 
 
 As soon as he was gone, Miss Milner exclaimed, 
 " However my fate may have been precipitated by 
 the unkindness of Mr. Sandford, yet, for that par- 
 ticle of concern which he has shown for me this 
 evening, I will always be grateful to him." 
 
 " Aye," cried Mrs. Horton, "good Mr. Sandford 
 may show his kindness now, without any danger 
 from its consequences. Now Lord Elm wood is 
 going away for ever, he is not afraid of your seeing 
 him once again." And she thought she praised him 
 by this suggestion. 
 
 VOL, XXVIII.
 
 194 A SIMPLE STORY, 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 When Miss Milner retired to her bedchamber, Miss 
 Woodley went with her, nor would leave her the 
 whole night ; but in vain did she persuade her to 
 rest, she absolutely refused ; and declared she would 
 never, from that hour, indulge repose. " The part 
 I undertook to perform," cried she, " is over : I 
 will now, for my whole life, appear in my own cha- 
 racter, and give a loose to the anguish 1 endure." 
 
 As daylight showed itself " And yet I might see 
 him once again," said she ; " I might see him 
 within these two hours, if I pleased, for Mr. Sand- 
 ford invited me." 
 
 " If you think, my dear Miss Milner," said Misy 
 Woodley, " that a second parting from Lord Elm- 
 wood would but give you a second agony, in the 
 name of Heaven do not see him any more ; but if 
 you hope your mind would be easier, were you to 
 bid each other adieu in a more direct manner than 
 you did last night, let us go down and breakfast 
 with him. I'll go before, and prepare him for your 
 reception you shall not surprise him and 1 will 
 let him know, it is by Mr. Sandford's invitation you 
 are coming." 
 
 She listened with a smile to this proposal, yet 
 objected to the indelicacy of her wishing to see him, 
 after he had taken his leave; but as Miss Woodley 
 perceived that she was inclined to infringe this 
 delicacy, of which she had so proper a sense, she 
 easily persuaded her it was impossible for the most 
 suspicious person (and Lord Elmwood was far from 
 such a character) to suppose that the paying him 
 a visit at that period of time could be with the most 
 distant imagination of regaining his heart, or of 
 altering one resolution he had taken.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 195 
 
 But though Miss Milner acquiesced in this opi- 
 nion, yet she had not the courage to form the de- 
 termination that she would go. 
 
 Daylight now no longer peeped, but stared upon 
 them. Miss Milner went to the looking-glass, 
 breathed upon her hands and rubbed them on her 
 eyes, smoothed her hair and adjusted her dress ; yet 
 said, after all, " 1 dare not see him again." 
 
 " You may do as you please," said Miss Woodley 
 " but I will. I that have lived for so many years 
 under the same roof with him, and on the most 
 friendly terms, and he going away, perhaps for these 
 ten years, perhaps for ever, I should think it a dis- 
 respect not to see him to the last moment of his 
 remaining in the house." 
 
 " Then do you go,'' said Miss Milner, eagerly ; 
 " and if he should ask for me, 1 will gladly come, 
 you know ; but if he does not ask for me, I will not 
 and pray don't deceive me." 
 
 Miss Woodley promised her not to deceive her ; 
 and soon after, as they heard the servants pass about 
 the house, and the clock had struck six, Miss Wood- 
 ley went to the breakfast-room. 
 
 She found Lord Elmwood there in his travelling 
 dress, standing pensively by the fire-place and, as 
 he did not dream of seeing her, he started when 
 she entered, and, with an appearance of alarm, said, 
 "Dear Miss Woodley, what's the matter?" She 
 replied, " Nothing, my lord ; but I could not be 
 satisfied without seeing your lordship once again, 
 while I had it in my power." 
 
 "I thank you," he returned with a sigh the 
 heaviest and most intelligent sigh she ever heard 
 him condescend to give. She imagined, also, that 
 he looked as if he wished to ask how Miss Milner 
 did, but would not allow himself the indulgence. 
 She was half inclined to mention her to him, and 
 s 2
 
 190 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 was debating in her mind whether she should or not, 
 when Mr. Sandford came into the room, saying, as 
 he entered, 
 
 " For Heaven's sake, my lord, where did you 
 sleep last night?" 
 
 " Why do you ask 1 " said he. 
 
 " Because," replied Sandford, " I went into your 
 bedchamber just now, and I found your bed made. 
 You have not slept there to-night." 
 
 " I have slept no where," returned he : "I could 
 not sleep ; and having some papers to look over, 
 and to set off early, I thought I might as well not go 
 to bed at all." 
 
 Miss Woodley was pleased at the frank manner 
 in which he made this confession, and could not 
 resist the strong impulse to say, " You have done 
 just then, my lord, like MissMilner ; for she has not 
 been in bed the whole night." 
 
 Miss Woodley spoke this in a negligent manner, 
 and yet Lord Elmwood echoed back the words 
 with solicitude, " Has not Miss Milner been in bed 
 the whole night ? " 
 
 " If she is up, why does not she come to take 
 some coffee 1 " said Sandford, as he began to pour 
 it out. 
 
 " If she thought it would be agreeable," returned 
 Miss Woodley, " I dare say she would." And she 
 looked at Lord Elmwood while she spoke, though 
 she did not absolutely address him ; but he made 
 no reply. 
 
 " Agreeable !" returned Sandford, angrily : " Has 
 she then a quarrel with any body here? Or does she 
 suppose any body here bears enmity to her ? Is 
 she not in peace and charity ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Miss Woodley ; " that I am sure 
 she is." 
 
 " Then bring her hither," cried Sandford, " di-
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 197 
 
 rectly. Would she have the wickedness to imagine 
 we are not all friends with her?" 
 
 Miss SVoodley left the room, and found Miss 
 Milner almost in despair, lest she should hear Lord 
 Elmwood's carriage drive off before her friend's 
 return. 
 
 " Did he send for me ? " were the words she ut- 
 tered as soon as she saw her. 
 
 " Mr. Sandford did, in his presence," returned 
 Miss Woodley ; " and you may go with the utmost 
 decorum, or 1 would not tell you so." 
 
 She required no protestations of this, but readily 
 followed her beloved adviser, whose kindness never 
 appeared in so amiable a light as at that moment. 
 
 On entering the room, through all the dead white 
 of her present complexion, she blushed to a crimson. 
 Lord Elmwood rose from his seat, and brought a 
 chair for her to sit down. 
 
 Sandford looked at her inquisitively, sipped his 
 tea, and said, "He never made tea to his own 
 liking." 
 
 Miss Milner took a cup, but had scarcely strength 
 to hold it. 
 
 It seemed but a very short time they were at break- 
 fast, when the carriage, that was to take Lord Elm- 
 wood away, drove to the door. Miss Milner started 
 at the sound : so did he : but she had nearly dropped 
 her cup and saucer ; on which Sandford took them 
 out of her hand, saying, 
 
 " Perhaps you had rather have coffee V 
 
 Her lips moved, but he could not hear what she 
 said. 
 
 A servant came in, and told Lord Elmwood, " The 
 carriage was at the door." 
 
 He replied, " Very well." But though he had 
 breakfasted, he did not attempt to move, 
 s 3
 
 193 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 At last, rising briskly, as if it was necessary to go 
 in haste when he did go, he took up his hat, which 
 he had brought with him into the room, and was 
 turning to Miss Woodley to take his leave, when 
 Sandford cried, " My lord, you are in a great 
 hurry." And then, as if he wished to give poor 
 Miss Milner every moment he could, added (look- 
 ing about), " I don't know where I have laid my 
 gloves." 
 
 Lord Elrawood, after repeating to Miss Woodley 
 his last night's farewel, now went up to Miss Milner, 
 and taking one of her hands, again held it between 
 his, but still without speaking ; while she, unable 
 to suppress her tears as heretofore, suffered them to 
 fall in torrents. 
 
 " What is all this ? " cried Sandford, going up to 
 them in anger. 
 
 They neither of them replied, or changed their 
 situation. 
 
 " Separate this moment," cried Sandford, " or 
 resolve to be separated only by death." 
 
 The commanding and awful manner in which he 
 spoke this sentence, made them both turn to him 
 in amazement, and, as it were, petrified with the 
 sensation his words had caused. 
 
 He left them for a moment, and going to a small 
 bookcase in one corner of the room, took out of it 
 a book, and, returning with it in his hand, said, 
 
 " Lord Elmwood, do you love this woman ? " 
 
 " More than my life," he replied, with the most 
 heartfelt accents. 
 
 He then turned to Miss Milner: " Can you say 
 the same by him 1 " 
 
 She spread her hands over her eyes, and ex- 
 claimed, " Oh, Heavens !" 
 
 " I believe you can say so," returned Saudford ;
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. li>9 
 
 " and in the name of God, and your own happiness, 
 since this is the state of you both, let me put it out 
 of your power to part." 
 
 Lord Elmwood gazed at him with wonder, and 
 yet as if enraptured by the sudden change this con- 
 duct gave to his prospects. 
 
 She sighed with a kind of trembling ecstacy ; 
 while Sandford with all the dignity of his official 
 character, delivered these words : 
 
 " My lord, while I thought my counsel might 
 save you from the worst of misfortunes, conjugal 
 strife, 1 importuned you hourly, and set forth your 
 danger in the light it appeared to me. But though 
 old, and a priest, I can submit to think I have been 
 in an error : and I now firmly believe it is for the 
 welfare of you both to become man and wife. My 
 lord, take this woman's marriage vows you can ask 
 no fairer promises of her reform she can give you 
 none half so sacred, half so binding ; and I see by 
 her looks that she will mean to keep them. And, 
 my dear," continued he, addressing himself to her, 
 " act but under the dominion of those vows towards 
 a husband of sense and virtue, like him, and you will 
 be all that I, himself, or even Heaven can desire. 
 Now, then, Lord Elmwood, this moment give her 
 up for ever, or this moment constrain her with the 
 rites which I shall perform, by such ties from offend- 
 ing you, as she shall not dare to violate." 
 
 Lord Elmwood struck his forehead in doubt and 
 agitation ; but, still holding her hand, he cried, " I 
 cannot part from her." Then feeling this reply as 
 equivocal, he fell upon his knees, and said, " Will 
 you pardon my hesitation ? And will you, in mar- 
 riage, show me that tender love you have not shown 
 me yet? Will you, in possessing all my affections, 
 bear with all my infirmities ?" 
 
 She raised him from her feet, and bv the ex-
 
 200 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 pression of her countenance, by the tears that bathed 
 his hands, gave him confidence. 
 
 He turned to Sandford ; then placing her by his 
 own side, as the form of matrimony requires, gave 
 this for a sign to Sandford that he should begin the 
 ceremony. . On which he opened his book, and 
 married them. 
 
 With voice and manners so serious, so solemn, and 
 so fervent, he performed these holy rites, that every 
 idea of jest, or even of lightness, was absent from 
 the mind of the whole party present. 
 
 Miss Milner, covered with shame, sunk on the 
 bosom of Miss Woodley. 
 
 When the ring was wanting, Lord Elmwood sup- 
 plied it with one from his own hand ; but through- 
 out all the rest of the ceremony he appeared lost in 
 zealous devotion to Heaven. Yet, no sooner was it 
 finished, than his thoughts descended to this world. 
 He embraced his bride with all the transport of 
 the fondest, happiest bridegroom, and in raptures 
 called her by the endearing name of " wife." 
 
 " But still, my lord," cried Sandford, " you are 
 only married by your own church and conscience, 
 not by your wife's, or by the law of the land ; and 
 let me advise you not to defer that marriage long, 
 lest in the time you should disagree, and she refuse 
 to become your legal spouse." 
 
 " I think there is danger," returned Lord Elm- 
 wood, " and therefore our second marriage must 
 take place to-morrow." 
 
 To this the ladies objected ; and Sandford was to 
 fix their second wedding-day, as he had done their 
 first. He, after consideration, gave them four days. 
 
 Miss Woodley then recollected (for every one 
 else had forgot it) that the carriage was still at the 
 door to convey Lord Elmwood far away. . It was of 
 course dismissed : and one of those great incidents
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 201 
 
 of delight which Miss Milner that morning tasted, 
 was to look out of the window, and see this very 
 carriage drive from the door unoccupied. 
 
 Never was there a more rapid change from de- 
 spair to happiness to happiness perfect and su- 
 preme than was that, which Miss Milner and Lord 
 Elmwood experienced in one single hour. 
 
 The few days that intervened hetween this and 
 their second marriage were passed in the delightful 
 care of preparing for that happy day ; yet, with 
 all its delights, inferior to the first, when every unex- 
 pected joy was doubled by the once expected sorrow. 
 
 Nevertheless, on that first wedding-day, that joy- 
 ful day, which restored her lost lover to her hopes 
 again ; even on that very day, after the sacred cere- 
 mony was over, Miss Milner (with all the fears, 
 the tremors, the superstition of her sex) felt an 
 excruciating shock, when, looking on the ring Lord 
 Elmwood had put upon her finger, in haste, when he 
 married her, she perceived it was a mourning ring. 
 
 END OF BOOK THE FIRST. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 Not any event throughout life can arrest the re- 
 flection of a thoughtful mind more powerfully, or 
 leave amore lasting impression, than thatof returning 
 to a place after a few years absence, and observing 
 an entire alteration, in respect to all the persons 
 who once formed the neighbourhood. To find that 
 many, who but a few years before were left in their 
 bloom of youth and health, arc dead to lind that
 
 20*2 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 children left at school, are married and have children 
 of their own that some, who were left in riches, 
 are reduced to poverty that others, who were in 
 poverty, are become rich; to find those once re- 
 nowned for virtue, now detested for vice roving 
 husbands grown constant constant husbands be- 
 come rovers the firmest friends changed to the 
 most implacable enemies beauty faded ; in a 
 word, every change to demonstrate, that 
 
 " All is transitory on this side the grave." 
 
 Guided by a wish, that the reflecting reader may 
 experience the sensation, which an attention to cir- 
 cumstances like these must excite, he is desired to 
 imagine seventeen years elapsed since he has seen 
 or heard of any of those persons who, in the fore- 
 going part of this narrative, have been introduced to 
 his acquaintance; and then, supposing himself at 
 the period of those seventeen years, follow the sequel 
 of their history. 
 
 To begin with the first female object of this story : 
 The beautiful, the beloved Miss Milner she is no 
 longer beautiful no longer beloved no longer 
 tremble while you read it ! no longer virtuous. 
 
 Dorriforth, the pious, the good, the tender Dor- 
 riforth, is become a hard -hearted tyrant ; the com- 
 passionate, the feeling, the just Lord Elmwood, an 
 example of implacable rigour and injustice. 
 
 Miss Woodley is grown old, but less with years 
 than grief. 
 
 The boy, Rushbrook, is become a man; and the 
 apparent heir of Lord Elmwood's fortune ; while 
 his own daughter, his only child by his once-adored 
 Miss Milner, he refuses ever to see again, in ven- 
 geance to her mother's crimes. 
 
 The least wonderful change is, the death of Mrs. 
 Horton. Except 
 
 Sandford, who remains much the same as here- 
 tofore.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 203 
 
 We left Lady Elmwood at the summit of human 
 happiness a loving; and heloved bride. We now 
 rind her upon her death-bed. 
 
 At thirty-five, her " course was run ; " a course 
 full of perils, of hopes, of fears, of joys, and, at the 
 end, of sorrows all exquisite of their kind, for ex- 
 quisite were the feelings of her susceptible heart. 
 
 At the commencement of this story, her father is 
 described in the last moments of his life, with all his 
 cares fixed upon her, his only child. How vain these 
 cares ! how vain every precaution that was taken for 
 her welfare ! She kuows, she reflects upon this ; 
 and yet, impelled by that instinctive power which 
 actuates a parent, Lady Elmwood on her dying day 
 has no worldly thoughts, but that of the future hap- 
 piness of an only child. To every other prospect in 
 iier view, " Thy will be done !" is her continual ex- 
 clamation ; but where the misery of her daughter 
 presents itself, the expiring penitent would there 
 combat the will of Heaven. 
 
 To detail the progression by which vice gains 
 a predominancy in the heart, may be a useful 
 lesson ; but it is one so little to the gratification 
 of most readers, that the degrees of misconduct, 
 by which Lady Elmwood fell are not meant to 
 be related here ; but instead of picturing every 
 occasion of her fall, to come briefly to the events 
 that followed. 
 
 There are, nevertheless, some articles under the 
 former class, which ought not to be entirely omitted. 
 
 Lord Elmwood after four years enjoyment of 
 the most perfect happiness that marriage could give, 
 after becoming the father of a beautiful daughter, 
 whom he loved with a tenderness almost equal to his 
 love of her mother -was under the indispensable 
 necessity of leaving them both for a time, in order 
 to rescue from the depredation of his own steward, 
 his very large estates in the West Indies. His voyage
 
 204 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 was tedious ; his residence there, from various ac- 
 cidents, was prolonged from time to time, till near 
 three years had at length passed away. Lady Elm- 
 wood, at first only unhappy, became at last pro- 
 voked ; and giving way to that irritable disposition 
 which she had so seldom governed, resolved, in 
 spite of his injunctions, to divert the melancholy 
 hours caused by his absence, by mixing in the gay 
 circles of London. 
 
 Lord Elmwood at this time, and for many months 
 before, had been detained abroad by a severe and 
 dangerous illness, which a too cautious fear of her 
 uneasiness had prompted him to conceal : and she 
 received his frequent apologies for not returning, 
 with a suspicion and resentment they were calcu- 
 lated, but not intended, to inspire. 
 
 To violent anger succeeded a degree of indiffer- 
 ence still more fatal. Lady Elmwood's heart was not 
 formed for such a state : there, where all the tu- 
 multuous passions harboured by turns, one among 
 them, soon found the means to occupy all vacancies; 
 a passion, commencing innocently, but terminating 
 in guilt. The dear object of her fondest, her 
 truest affections, absent, far off; those affections 
 painted the time so irksome that was past, so weari- 
 some that which was still to come, that she flew 
 from the present tedious solitude to the dangerous 
 society of one whose mind, depraved by fashionable 
 vices, could not repay her for a moment's loss of 
 him, whose felicity she destroyed, whose dishonour 
 she accomplished. Or, if the delirium gave her a 
 moment's recompence, what were her sufferings, 
 her remorse, when she was awakened from the fleet- 
 ing joy, by the arrival of her husband ! Happy, 
 transporting, would have been that arrival but a few 
 months sooner! As it would then have been un- 
 bounded happiness, it was now but language affords 
 no word that can describeLadyElmwood's sensations,
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 205 
 
 on being told her lord was arrived, and that necessity 
 alone had so long delayed his return. 
 
 Guilty, but not hardened in her guilt, her pangs, 
 her shame, were the more excessive. She fled from 
 the place at his approach ; fled from his house, never 
 again to return to a habitation where he was the 
 master. She did not, however, elope with her para- 
 mour, but escaped to shelter herself in the most 
 dreary retreat ; where she partook of no one comfort 
 from society, or from life, but the still unremitting 
 friendship of Miss Woodley. Even her infant 
 daughter she left behind, nor would allow herself 
 the consolation of her innocent, though reproachful, 
 smiles. She left her in her father's house, that she 
 might be under his virtuous protection ; parted with 
 her, as she thought, for ever, with all the agonies 
 with which mothers part from their infant children : 
 and yet, those agonies were still more poignant, on 
 beholding the child sent after her, as the perpetual 
 outcast of its father. 
 
 Lord Elmwood's love to his wife had been extra- 
 vagant : the effect of his hate was the same. Be- 
 holding himself separated from her by a barrier not 
 ever to be removed, he vowed, in the deep torments 
 of his revenge, never to be reminded of her by one 
 individual object; much less, by one so near to her 
 as her child. To bestow upon that child his affec- 
 tions, would be, he imagined, still, in some sort, to 
 divide them with the mother. Firm in his resolu- 
 tion, the beautiful Matilda was, at the age of six 
 years, sent out of her father's house ; and received 
 by her mother with all the tenderness, but with all 
 the anguish, of those parents, who behold their 
 offspring visited by the punishment due only to 
 their own offences. 
 
 While this rigid act was executing by Lord Elm- 
 wood's agents at his command, himself was engaged 
 
 VOL. XXVIII. T
 
 206 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 in an. affair of still weightier importance- -that of 
 life or death. He determined upon his own death, 
 or the death of the man who had wounded his ho- 
 nour and destroyed his happiness. A duel with his 
 old antagonist was the result of this determination : 
 nor was the Duke of Avon (who before the decease 
 of his father and eldest brother was Lord Frederick 
 Lawnley) averse from giving him all the satisfaction 
 he required ; for it was no, other than he, whose 
 passion for Lady Elm wood had still subsisted, and 
 whose address in gallantry left no means unattempted 
 for the success of his designs no other than he 
 (who, next to Lord Elmwood, had been of all her 
 lovers the most favoured) to whom Lady Elmwood 
 sacrificed her own and her husband's future peace, 
 and thus gave to his vanity a prouder triumph than 
 if she had never bestowed her hand in marriage on 
 another. This triumph, however, was but short : a 
 month only, after the return of Lord Elmwood, the 
 duke was called upon to answer for his guilt, and 
 was left on the ground where they met, so defaced 
 with scars, as never again to endanger the honour 
 of a husband. As Lord Elmwood was inexorable to 
 all accommodation, their engagement had continued 
 for a long space of time ; nor could any thing but 
 the assurance that his opponent was slain have at 
 last torn him from the field, though himself was 
 dangerously wounded. 
 
 Yet even during the period of his danger, while 
 for days he lay in the continual expectation of his 
 own dissolution, not all the entreaties of his dearest, 
 most intimate, and most respected friends, could 
 prevail upon him to pronounce forgiveness of his 
 wife ; or to suffer them to bring his daughter to 
 him, for his last blessing. 
 
 Lady Elmwood, who was made acquainted with 
 the minutest circumstance as it passed, appeared to
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. '207 
 
 wait the news of her husband's decease with pati^ 
 once : but upon her brow and in every lineament of 
 her face was marked, that his death was an event 
 she would not for a day survive; and she would have 
 left her child an orphan, in such a case, to have fol- 
 lowed Lord Elmwood to the tomb. She was pre- 
 vented the trial: he recovered ; and from the ample 
 vengeance he had obtained upon the irresistible 
 person of the duke, he seemed, in a short time, to 
 regain his tranquillity. 
 
 He recovered, but Lady Elmwood fell sick and 
 languished. Possessed of youth to struggle with 
 her woes, she still lingered on, till near ten years 
 decline had brought her to that period, with which 
 the reader is now to be presented. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 In a lonely country on the borders of Scotland, a 
 single house by the side of a dreary heath, was the 
 residence of the once gay, volatile Miss Milner. In 
 a lame gloomy apartment of this solitarv habitation 
 ( the windows of which scarcely rendered the light ac- 
 cessible) was laid upon her death-bed, the once lovely 
 Lady Elmwood pale, half-suffocated from the loss 
 of breath; yet hersenses perfectly clearand collected, 
 which served but to sharpen the anguish of dying. 
 
 In one corner of the room, by the side of an old- 
 fashioned settee, kneels MissWoodley, praying most 
 devoutly for her still beloved friend, but in vain en- 
 deavouring to pray composedly : floods of tears pour 
 down her furrowed cheeks, and frequent sobs of 
 sorrow break through each pious ejaculation. 
 
 (lose by her mother's side, one hand supporting 
 her head, the other drving from her face the cold 
 T 2
 
 208 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 dew of death, behold Lady Elmwood's daughter- 
 Lord Elrawood's daughter too ; yet he is far away, 
 negligent of what either suffers. Lady Elmwood 
 turns to her often and attempts an embrace, but her 
 feeble arms forbid, and they fall motionless. The 
 daughter, perceiving these ineffectual efforts, has 
 her whole face convulsed with grief: she kisses her 
 mother ; holds her to her bosom ; and hangs upon 
 her neck, as if she wished to cling there, not to be 
 parted even by the grave. 
 
 On the other side of the bed sits Sandford, his 
 hairs grown white, his face wrinkled with age, 
 his heart the same as ever the reprover, the enemy 
 of the vain, the idle, and the wicked, but the friend 
 and comforter of the forlorn and miserable. 
 
 Upon those features where sarcasm, reproach, and 
 anger dwelt, to threaten and alarm the sinner, mild- 
 ness, tenderness, and pity beamed, to support and 
 console the penitent. Compassion changed his lan- 
 guage, and softened all those harsh tones that used 
 to denounce perdition. 
 
 " In the name of God," said he to Lady Elmwood, 
 " of that God, who suffered for you, and, suffering, 
 knew and pitied all our weaknesses by Him, who 
 has given his word to take compassion on the sinner's 
 tears, I bid you hope for mercy. By that innocence 
 in which you once lived, be comforted ; by the sor- 
 rows you have known since your degradation, hope, 
 that in some measure, at least, you have atoned ; 
 by the sincerity that shone upon your youthful face 
 when I joined your hand, and those thousand virtues 
 you have since given proofs of, trust, that you were 
 not born to die the death of the wicked." 
 
 As he spoke these words of consolation, her 
 trembling hand clasped his her dying eyes darted 
 a ray of brightness but her failing voice endeavour 
 ed in vain to articulate. At length, fixing her looks
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 209 
 
 upon her daughter as their last dear object, she was 
 just understood to utter the word, " Father." 
 
 " I understand \on," replied Sandford, " and hy 
 all that influence I ever had over him, hy my prayers, 
 my tears," and they flowed as he spoke, " I will 
 implore him to own his child." 
 
 She could now only smile in thanks. 
 
 " And if I should fail," continued he, "yet while 
 I live she shall not want a friend or protector all 
 
 an old man, like me, can answer for" here his 
 
 grief interrupted him. 
 
 Lady Elmwood was sufficiently sensihle of his 
 words and their import, to make a sign as if she 
 wished to cmhrace him; but, finding her life leaving 
 her fast, she reserved this last token of love for her 
 daughter : with a struggle she lifted herself from 
 her pillow, clung to her child, and died in her 
 
 arms. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 Lord Elmwood was by nature, and more from 
 educatiou, of a serious, thinking, and philosophic 
 turn of mind. His religious studies had completely 
 taught him to consider this world but as a passage to 
 another ; to enjoy with gratitude what Heaven in its 
 bounty should bestow, and to bear with submission 
 whatever in its vengeance it might inflict. In a 
 greater degree than most people he practised this 
 doctrine : and as soon as the shock which he re- 
 ceived from Lady Elmwood's infidelity was abated, 
 an entire calmness and resignation ensued ; but still 
 of that sensible and feeling kind, that could never 
 suffer him to forget the happiness he had lost: and 
 it was ^is sensibility which ursred him to fly from 
 t :3
 
 210 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 its more keen recollection ; and which he avowed as 
 the reason why he would never permit Lady Elm- 
 wood, or even her child, to be named in his hearing. 
 But this injunction (which all his friends, and even 
 the servants in the house who attended his person, 
 had received,) was, by many people, suspected rather 
 to proceed from his resentment, than his tenderness : 
 nor did he deny that resentment co-operated with 
 his prudence ; for prudence he called it, not to re- 
 mind himself of happiness he could never taste again, 
 and of ingratitude that might impel him to hatred : 
 and prudence he called it, not to form another at- 
 tachment near to his heart, more especially so near 
 as a parent's, which might again expose him to all 
 the torments of ingratitude, from an object whom 
 he affectionately loved. 
 
 Upon these principles he adopted the unshaken 
 resolution, never to acknowledge Lady Matilda as 
 his child ; or, acknowledging her as such, never to 
 see, to hear of, or take one concern whatever in her 
 fate and fortune. The death of her mother appeared 
 a favourable time, had he been so inclined, to have 
 recalled this declaration which he had solemnly and 
 repeatedly made. She was now destitute of the pro- 
 tection of her other parent, and it became his duty, 
 at least, to provide her a guardian, if he did not 
 choose to take that tender title upon himself: but 
 to mention either the mother or child to Lord Elm- 
 wood was an equal offence, and prohibited in the 
 strongest terms to all his friends and household ; 
 aud as he was an excellent good master, a sincere 
 friend, and a most generous patron, not one of his 
 acquaintance or dependents was hardy enough to 
 incur his certain displeasure, which was always 
 violent to excess, by even the official intelligence of 
 Lady Elmwood's death. 
 
 Sandford himself, intimidated through age, or by
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 211 
 
 the austere and morose manners which Lord Elm- 
 wood had of late years evinced Sandford wished, 
 if possible, that some other would undertake the 
 dangerous task of recalling to iiis memory there 
 ever was such a person as his wife. He advised Miss 
 Woodley to write a proper letter to him on the sub- 
 ject ; but she reminded him, that such a step would 
 be more perilous to her than to any other person, 
 as she was the most destitute being on earth, with- 
 out the benevolence of Lord Elm wood. The death 
 of her aunt, Mrs. Hortou, had left her solely relying 
 on the bounty of Lady Elmwood, and now her death 
 had left her totally dependent upon the earl ; for 
 Lady Elmwood, though she had separate effects, had 
 long before her demise declared it was not her in- 
 tention to leave a sentence behind her in the form 
 of a will. She had no will, she said, but what she 
 would wholly submit to Lord Elmwood's ; and, if it 
 were even his will that her child should live in 
 poverty, as well as banishment, it should be so. 
 But, perhaps, in this implicit submission to him, 
 there was a distant hope, that the necessitous situa- 
 tion of his daughter might plead more forcibly than 
 his parental love : and that knowing her bereft of 
 every support but through himself, that idea might 
 form some Utile tie between them, and be at least a 
 token of the relationship. 
 
 But as Lady Elmwood anxiously wished this prin- 
 ciple upon which she acted should be concealed 
 from his suspicion, she included her friend, Miss 
 Woodley, in the same fate ; and thus the only per- 
 sons dear to her she left, but at Lord Elmwood's 
 pleasure, to be preserved from perishing in want. 
 Her child was too young to advise her on this sub- 
 ject, her friend too disinterested ; and at this moment 
 they were both without the smallest means of sub- 
 sistence, except through the justice or compassion
 
 212 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 of Lord Elmwood. Sandford had, indeed, promised 
 his protection to the daughter; but his liberality 
 had no other source than from his patron, with 
 whom he still lived as usual, except during part of 
 the winter, when the earl resided in town : he then 
 mostly stole a visit to Lady Elmwood. On this last 
 visit he staid to see her buried. 
 
 After some mature deliberations, Sandford was 
 now preparing to go to Lord Elmwood, at his house 
 in town, and there to deliver himself the news that 
 must sooner or later be told ; and he meant also to 
 venture, at the same time, to keep the promise he 
 had made to his dying lady. But the news reached 
 his lordship before Sandford arrived: it was an- 
 nounced in the public papers, and by that means 
 first came to his knowledge. 
 
 He was breakfasting by himself, when the news- 
 paper that first gave the intelligence of Lady Elm- 
 wood's death was laid before him. The paragraph 
 contained these words : 
 
 " On Wednesday last died, at Dring Park, a 
 village in Northumberland, the right honourable 
 Countess Elmwood. This lady, who has not been 
 heard of for many years in the fashionable world, 
 was a rich heiress, and of extreme beauty ; but 
 although she received overtures from many men of 
 the first rank, she preferred her guardian, the pre- 
 sent Lord Elmwood (then Mr. Dorriforth) to them 
 all : and it is said their marriage was followed by an 
 uncommon share of felicity, till his lordship, going 
 abroad, and- remaining there some time, the conse- 
 quences (to a most captivating young woman left 
 without a protector) were such as to cause a separa- 
 tion on his return. Her ladyship has left one child 
 by the earl, a daughter, aged fifteen." . 
 
 Lord Elmwood had so much feeling upon reading 
 this, as to lay down the paper, and not take it up
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 213 
 
 again for several minutes : nor did he taste his cho- 
 colate during this interval, but leaned his elbow on 
 the table and rested his head upon his hand. He 
 then rose up walked two or three times across the 
 room sat down again took up the paper and 
 read as usual. Nor let the vociferous mourner, or 
 the perpetual weeper, here complain of his want of 
 sensibility ; but let them remember that Lord Elm- 
 wood was a man a man of understanding of cou- 
 rage of fortitude above all, a man of the nicest 
 feelings : and who shall say, but that at the time he 
 leaned his. head upon his hand, and rose to walk 
 away the sense of what he felt, he might not feel as 
 much as Lady Elmwood did in her last moments ? 
 
 Be this as it may, his susceptibility on the occa- 
 sion was not suspected by any one yet he passed 
 that day the same as usual ; the next day too, and 
 the day after. On the morning of the fourth, he 
 sent for his steward to his study, and after talking of 
 other business, said to him, 
 
 " Is it true that Lady Elmwood is dead ? " 
 
 " It is, my lord." 
 
 His lordship looked unusually grave, and at this 
 reply fetched an involuntary sigh. 
 
 " Mr. Sandford, my lord," continued the steward, 
 " sent me word of the news, but left it to my own, 
 discretion, whether I would make your lordship ac- 
 quainted with it or not: I let him know I declined." 
 
 " Where is Sandford T asked Lord Elmwood. 
 
 " He was with my lady," replied the steward. 
 
 " When she died V asked he. 
 
 " Yes, my lord." 
 
 "lam glad of it : he will see that every thing she 
 desired is done. Sandford is a good man, and would 
 be a friend to every body." 
 
 " He is a very good man indeed, my lord." 
 
 There was now a silence. Mr. Giftard then,
 
 214 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 bowing, said " Has your lordship any further com- 
 mands 1 " 
 
 " Write to Sandfbrd," said Lord Elmwood, hesi- 
 tating as he spoke, " and tell him to have every 
 thing performed as she desired. And whoever she 
 may have selected for the guardian of her child has 
 my consent to act as such ; nor in one instance, 
 where I myself am not concerned, shall I oppose 
 her will." The tears rushed into his eyes as he said 
 this, and caused them to start in the steward's : 
 observing which, he sternly resumed, 
 
 " Do not suppose from this conversation, that aiiv 
 of those resolutions I have long since taken are or 
 will be changed : they are the same, and shall con- 
 tinue inflexible." 
 
 " I understand you, my lord," replied Mr.Giffard, 
 " and that your express orders to me, as well as to 
 every other person, remain just the same as formerly, 
 never to mention this subject to you again." 
 
 " They do, sir." 
 
 " My lord, I always obeyed you, and I hope 1 
 always shall." 
 
 " I hope so too," he replied in a threatening 
 accent. "Write to Sandford," continued he, "to 
 let him know my pleasure, and that is all you have 
 to do." 
 
 The steward bowed and withdrew. 
 
 But before his letter arrived to Sandford, Sand- 
 ford arrived in town ; and Mr. Giffard related, word 
 for word, what had passed between him and his 
 lord. Upon every occasion, and upon every topic, 
 except that of Lady Elmwood and her child, Sand- 
 ford was just as free with Lord Elmwood as he had 
 ever been; and as usual (after his interview with the 
 steward) went into his apartment without any previ- 
 ous notice. Lord Elmwood shook him by the hand, 
 as upon all other meetings ; and yet, whether his
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 215 
 
 fear suggested it or not, Sandford thought he ap- 
 peared more cool and reserved with him than for- 
 merly. 
 
 During the whole day, the slightest mention of 
 Lady Elniwood, or of her child, was cautiously 
 avoided ; and not till the evening, after Sandford 
 had risen to retire, and had wished Lord Elmwood 
 uod night, did he dare to mention the subject. 
 He then, after taking leave, and going to the door, 
 turned back and said, " My lord" 
 
 It was easy to guess on what he was preparing to 
 speak : his voice failed, the tears began to trickle 
 down his cheeks, he took out ins handkerchief, and 
 could proceed no farther. 
 
 " i thought," said Lord Elmwood, angrily, " 1 
 thought I had given my orders upon the subject : 
 did not my steward write them to you ?" 
 
 " He did, my lord," said Sandford, humbly ; 
 " but I was set out before they arrived." 
 
 " Has he not told you my mind, then ?" cried he, 
 more angrily still. 
 
 " He has," replied Sandford " But"'- 
 
 " But what, sir?" cried Lord Elmwood. 
 
 " Your lordship," continued Sandford, " was 
 mistaken in supposing that Lady Elmwood left a 
 will. She left none." 
 
 " No will! no will at all!" returned he, sur- 
 prised. 
 
 " No, my lord," answered Sandford: " she wish- 
 ed every thing to be as you willed. 
 
 " She left me all the trouble, then, you mean?" 
 
 " No great trouble, sir; for there are but two 
 persons whom she has left behind her, to hope for 
 your protection." 
 
 " And who are those two?" cried he hastily. 
 
 " One, my lord, I need not name : the other is 
 Miss Woodley."
 
 216 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 There was a delicacy and humility in the manner 
 in which Sandford delivered this reply, that Lord 
 Elmwood could not resent, and he only returned, 
 
 " Miss Woodley- is she yet living?" 
 
 " She is : I left her at the house I came from." 
 
 " Well then," answered he, " you must see that 
 my steward provides for those two persons. That 
 care I leave to you ; and should there be any com- 
 plaints, on you they fall." 
 
 Sandford bowed, and was going. 
 
 " And now," resumed Lord Elmwood, in a more 
 stern voice, " let me never hear again on this sub- 
 ject. You have here the power to act in regard 
 to the persons you have mentioned ; and upon you 
 their situation, the care, the whole management of 
 them depends ; but be sure you never let them be 
 named before me, from this moment." 
 
 " Then," said Sandford, " as this must be the 
 last time they are mentioned, I must now take the 
 opportunity to disburden my mind of a charge " - 
 
 " What charge V cried Lord Elmwood, morosely 
 interrupting him. 
 
 " Though Lady Elmwood, my lord, left no will 
 behind her, she left a request." 
 
 " A request!" said he starting " If it is for 
 me to see her daughter, I tell you now before you 
 ask, that I will not grant it ; for by Heaven (and he 
 spoke and looked most solemnly), though I have no 
 resentment against the innocent child, and wish her 
 happy, yet I will never see her. Never, for her 
 mother's sake, suffer my heart again to be softened 
 by an object I might doat upon. Therefore, sir, if 
 that is the request, it is already answered : my will 
 is fixed." 
 
 " The request, my lord," replied Sandford, (and 
 he took out a pocket-book from whence he drew 
 several papers), " is contained in this letter ; nor do
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 2L>7 
 
 I rightly know what its contents are." And he held 
 it, timorously, out to him. 
 
 "Is it Lady Elmwood's writing?" asked Lord 
 Elmwood, extremely discomposed. 
 
 " It is, my lord : she wrote it a few days before 
 she died, and enjoined me to deliver it to you with 
 my own hands." 
 
 " I refuse to read it;" cried he, putting it from 
 him ; and trembling while he did so. 
 
 " She desired me," said Sandford, (still present- 
 ing the letter), " to conjure you to read it -for her 
 father s sake." 
 
 Lord Elmwood took it instantly. But as soon as 
 it was in his hand, he seemed distressed to know 
 what he should do with it ; in what place to go and 
 read it ; or how to fortify himself against its con- 
 tents. He appeared ashamed too, that he had been 
 so far prevailed upon, and said, by way of excuse, 
 
 " For Mr. Milner's sake 1 would do much ; nay, 
 any thing, but that to which I have just now sworn 
 never to consent. For his sake I have borne a great 
 deal : for his sake alone, his daughter died my wife. 
 You know, no other motive than respect for him 
 prevented my divorce. Pray (and he hesitated), was 
 she buried by him ? " 
 
 " No, my lord : she expressed no such desire ; 
 and as that was the case, I did not think it necessary 
 to carry the corpse so far." 
 
 At the word corpse, Lord Elmwood shrunk, and 
 looked shocked beyond measure but, recovering 
 himself, said, " I am sorry for it ; for he loved her 
 sincerely, if she did not love him and I wish they 
 had been buried together." 
 
 " It is not, then, too late," said Sandford, and was 
 going on but the other interrupted him. 
 
 " No, no we will have no disturbing of the 
 dead." 
 
 VOL. XXVIII. U
 
 218 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " Read her letter, then," said Sandford, '' and 
 bid her rest in peace.'' 
 
 " If it is in my power," returned he, " to grant 
 what she asks, I will ; but if her demand is what I 
 apprehend, I cannot, I will not, bid her rest by com 
 plying. You know my resolution, my disposition, 
 and take care how you provoke me. You may do 
 an injury to the very person you are seeking to 
 befriend : the very maintenance I mean to allow her 
 daughter I can withdraw." 
 
 Poor Sandford, all alarmed at this menace, re- 
 plied with energy, " My lord, uuless you begin the 
 subject, I never shall presume to mention it again." 
 
 " I take you at your word ; and in consequence of 
 that, but of that alone, we are friends. Good night, 
 sir." 
 
 Sandford bowed with humility, and they went to 
 f.icir separate bed-chambers. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 After Lord Elmwoodhad retired into his chamber, 
 it was some time before he read the letter Sandford 
 had given him. He first walked backwards and 
 forwards in the room : he then began to take off 
 some part of his dress, but he did it slowly. At 
 length, he dismissed his valet, and, sitting down, 
 took the letter from his pocket. He looked at the 
 seal, but not at the direction ; for he seemed to 
 dread seeing Lady Elmwood's hand-writing. He 
 then laid it on the table, and begau again to undress. 
 He did not proceed, but, taking up the letter quickly 
 (with a kind of effort in making the resolution), 
 broke it open. These were its contents :
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 219 
 
 " MY LORD, 
 
 " Who writes this letter I well know I well know 
 to whom it is addressed I feel with the most 
 powerful force both our situations ; nor should I 
 dare to offer you even this humble petition, but that 
 at the time you receive it there will be no such 
 person as I am in existence. 
 
 " For myself, then, all concern will be over : but 
 there is a care that pursues me to the grave, and 
 threatens my want of repose even there. 
 
 " I leave a child : I will not call her mine that 
 has undone her : I will not call her yours that will 
 be of no avail. I present her before you as the 
 grand-daughter of Mr. Milner. Oh ! do not refuse 
 an asylum, even in your own house, to the destitute 
 offspring of your friend the last and only remain- 
 ing branch of his family. 
 
 " Receive her into your household, be her con- 
 dition there ever so abject. I cannot write distinctly 
 what I would my senses are not impaired, but the 
 powers of expression are. The complaint of the un- 
 fortunate child in the Scriptures (a lesson I have 
 studied), has made this wish cling so fast to my heart, 
 that, without the distant hope of its being fulfilled, 
 death would have more terrors than my weak mind 
 could support. 
 
 " ' I will go to my father. How many servants 
 live in my father's house, and are fed with plenty, 
 while I starve in a foreign land!' 
 
 " I do not ask a parent's festive rejoicing at her 
 approach I do not even ask her father to behold 
 her ; but let her live under his protection. For 
 her grandfather's sake do not refuse this to the 
 child of his child, whom he entrusted to your care, 
 do not refuse it. 
 
 " Be her host ; I remit the tie of being her parent, 
 u 2
 
 220 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 Never see her but let her sometimes live under 
 the same roof with you. 
 
 " It is Miss Milner, your ward, to whom you 
 never refused a request, who supplicates you not 
 now for your nephew, Rushbrook, but for one so 
 
 much more dear that a denial She dares not 
 
 surfer her thoughts to glance that way she will hope 
 and in that hope bids you farewel, with all the 
 love she ever bore you. 
 
 " Farewel, Dorriforth farewel, LordElmwood 
 and before you throw this letter from you with con- 
 tempt or anger, cast your imagination into the grave 
 where I am lying. Reflect upon all the days of my 
 past life the anxious moments I have known, and 
 what has been their end. Behold me, also : in my 
 altered face there is no anxiety no joy or sorrow 
 
 all is over. My whole frame is motionless 
 
 my heart beats no more. Look at my horrid habita- 
 tion, too, and ask yourself whether I am an object 
 of resentment." 
 
 While Lord Elmwood read this letter, it trembled 
 in his hand : he once or twice wiped the tears from 
 his eyes as he read, and once laid the letter down 
 for a few minutes. At its conclusion, the tears 
 flowed fast down his face : but he seemed both 
 ashamed and angry they did, and was going to 
 throw thepaper upon the fire. He, however, suddenly 
 checked his hand ; and, putting it hastily into his 
 pocket, went to bed. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 The next morning, when Lord Elmwood and Sand 
 ford met at breakfast, the latter was pale with fear
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 221 
 
 for the success of Lady Elniwood's letter : the earl 
 was pale too, but there was besides upou his face 
 something which evidently marked he was displeased. 
 Sandford observed it, and was all humbleness, 
 both in his words and looks, in order to soften 
 him. 
 
 As soon as the breakfast was removed, Lord Elm- 
 wood drew the letter from his pocket, and, holding it 
 towards Sandford, said, 
 
 " That may be of more value to you than it is to 
 me : therefore I give it you." 
 
 Sandford called up a look of surprise, as if he did 
 not know the letter again. 
 
 " Tis Lady Elniwood's letter," said Lord Elm- 
 wood ; " and I return it to you for two reasons." 
 
 Sandford took it, and, putting it up, asked fearfully, 
 " what those two reasons were." 
 
 " First," said he, " because I think it is a relic 
 you may like to preserve. My second reason is, that 
 you may shew it to her daughter, and let her know 
 why, and on what conditions, I grant her mother's 
 request." 
 
 " You do then grant it?" cried Sandford joyfully : 
 " I thank you you are kind you are considerate." 
 " Be not hasty in your gratitude : you may have 
 cause to recal it." 
 
 " I know what you have said," replied Sandford : 
 " you have said you grant Lady Elniwood's request 
 you cannot recal these words, nor I my grati- 
 tude." 
 
 " Do you know what her request is?" return- 
 ed he. 
 
 " Not exactly, my lord : I told you before I did 
 not ; but it is, no doubt, something in favour of her 
 child." 
 
 " I think not," he replied. " Such as it is, how- 
 ever, I grant it ; but in the strictest sense of the 
 u 3
 
 222 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 word no farther and one neglect of my com- 
 mands releases me from this promise totally." 
 " We will take care, sir, not to disobey them." 
 " Then listen to what they are ; for to you I give 
 the charge of delivering them again. Lady Elm- 
 wood has petitioned me, in the name of her father 
 (a name I reverence), to give his grandchild the 
 sanction of my protection ; in the literal sense, to 
 suffer that she may reside at one of my seats ; dis- 
 pensing at the same time with my ever seeing her." 
 " And you will comply ?" 
 
 " I will, till she encroaches on this concession, 
 and dares to hope for a greater. I will, while she 
 avoids my sight, or the giving me any remembrance 
 of her. But if, whether by design or by accident, 
 I ever see or hear from her, that moment my com- 
 pliance to her mother's supplication ceases, and I 
 abandon her once more. 
 
 Sandford sighed. Lord Elmwood continued : 
 " I am glad her request stopped where it did. 
 I would rather comply with her desires than not ; 
 and I rejoice they are such as I can grant with ease 
 and honour to myself. I am seldom now at Elmwood 
 Castle : let her daughter go there. The few weeks 
 or months I am down in the summer, she may easily, 
 in that extensive house, avoid me : while she does, 
 she lives in security when she does not you know 
 my resolution." 
 
 Sandford bowed the earl resumed : 
 " Nor can it be a hardship to obey this command : 
 she cannot lament the separation from a parent 
 whom she never knew " Sandford was going eager- 
 ly to prove the error of that assertion ; but he pre- 
 vented him, by saying, " In a word without farther 
 argument if she obeys me in this, I will provide 
 for her as my daughter during my life, and leave 
 her a fortune at my death ; but if she dares "
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 223 
 
 Sandford interrupted the menace prepared for 
 utterance, saying, " And you still mean, I suppose, 
 to make Mr. Rushbrook your heir ? " 
 
 " Have you not heard me say so ? And do you 
 imagine I have changed my determination ? I am 
 not given to alter my resolutions, Mr. Sandford ; 
 and I thought you knew 1 was not : besides, will not 
 my title be extinct, whoever I make my heir? Could 
 any thing but a son have preserved my title ? " 
 
 " Then it is yet possible " 
 
 " By marrying again, you mean? No no I 
 have had enough of marriage ; and Henry Rush- 
 brook 1 shall leave my heir. Therefore, sir " 
 
 " My lord, I do not presume " 
 
 " Do not, Sandford, and we may still be good 
 friends. But I am not to be controuled as formerly : 
 my temper is changed of late changed to what it 
 was originally, till your religious precepts reformed 
 it. You may remember, how troublesome it was 
 to conquer my stubborn disposition in my youth : 
 then, indeed, you did ; but in my more advanced 
 age, you will find the task too difficult." 
 
 Sandford again repeated, " he should not pre- 
 sume " 
 
 To which Lord Elmwood again made answer, 
 " Do not, Sandford ; " and added, " for I have a 
 sincere regard for you, and should be loath, at these 
 years, to quarrel with you seriously." 
 
 Sandford turned away his head to conceal his 
 feelings. 
 
 " Nay, if we do quarrel," resumed Lord Elm- 
 wood, " you know it must be your own fault; and 
 as this is a theme the most likely of any, nay, the 
 only one on which we can have a difference (such 
 as we cannot forgive), take care never from this day 
 to renew it . Indeed, that of itself would be an of-
 
 224 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 fence I could not pardon. I have been clear and 
 explicit in all I have said ; there can be no fear of 
 mistaking my meaning ; therefore, all future expla 
 nation is unnecessary : nor will I permit a word, or 
 a hint on the subject from any one, without showing 
 my resentment even to the hour of my death." He 
 was going out of the room. 
 
 " But before we bid adieu to the subject for ever, 
 my lord there was another person whom I named 
 to you " 
 
 " Do you mean Miss Wooclley ? Oh, by all 
 means let her live at Elmwood House too. On 
 consideration, I have no objection to see Miss 
 Woodley at any time : I shall be glad to see her. 
 Do not let her be frightened at me : to her I shall 
 be the same that I have always been." 
 
 " She is a good woman, my lord," cried Sand- 
 ford, delighted. 
 
 " You need not tell me that, Mr. Sandford : 1 
 know her worth." And he left the room. 
 
 Sandford, to relieve Miss Woodley and her lovely 
 charge from the suspense in which he had left them, 
 prepared to set off for their habitation, and meant 
 himself to conduct them from thence to Elmwood 
 Castle, and appoint some retired part of it for Lady 
 Matilda, against the annual visit which her father 
 should pay there. To confirm this caution, before 
 he left London, Giffard, the steward, took an oppor- 
 tunity to wait upon him, and let him know, that his 
 lord had acquainted him with the consent he had 
 given for his daughter to be admitted at Elmwood 
 Castle, and upon what restrictions ; that he had 
 farther uttered the severest threats, should these re- 
 strictions ever be infringed. Sandford thanked Gif- 
 fard for his friendly information. It served him as a 
 second warning of the circumspection that was ne-
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 225 
 
 cessary ; and having taken leave of his friend and 
 patron, under the pretence that " he could not live 
 in the smoke of London," he set out for the North. 
 
 It is unnecessary to say with what joy Sandford 
 was received by Miss Woodley and the hapless 
 daughter of Lady Elmwood, even before he told 
 his errand. They both loved him sincerely ; more 
 especially Lady Matilda, whose forlorn state, and 
 innocent sufferings, had ever excited his compassion, 
 and caused him to treat her with affection, tender- 
 ness, and respect. She knew, too, how much he 
 had been her mother's friend ; for that, she also 
 loved him ; and for his being honoured with the 
 friendship of her father, she looked up to him with 
 reverence. For Matilda (with an excellent under- 
 standing, a sedateness above her years, and having 
 been early accustomed to the private converse be- 
 tween Lady Elmwood and Miss Woodley,) was per- 
 fectly acquainted with the whole fatal history of her 
 mother ; and was, by her, taught the esteem and 
 admiration of her father's virtues which they so 
 justly merited. 
 
 Notwithstanding the joy of Mr. Sandford's pre- 
 sence, once more to cheer their solitary dwelling ; 
 no sooner were the first kind greetings over than 
 the dread of what he might have to inform them of 
 possessed poor Matilda and Miss Woodley so pow- 
 erfully, that all their gladness was changed into 
 affright. Their apprehensions were far more for- 
 cible than their curiosity : they dared not ask a 
 question, and even began to wish he would continue 
 silent upon the subject on which they feared to lis- 
 ten. For near two hours he was so. At length, 
 after a short interval from speaking, (during which 
 they waited with anxiety for what he might next 
 say), he turned to Lady Matilda, and said, 
 
 " You don't ask for your father, my dear."
 
 226 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " I did not know it was proper," she replied, 
 timidly. 
 
 " It is always proper," answered Sandford, " for 
 you to think of him, though he should never think 
 on you." 
 
 She burst into tears, and said that she " did 
 think of him, but she felt an apprehension of men- 
 tioning his name." And she wept bitterly while 
 she spoke. 
 
 " Do not think I reproved you,'' said Sandford : 
 " 1 only told you what was right." 
 
 " Nay," said Miss Woodley, " she does not weep 
 for that : she fears her father has not complied with 
 her mother's request ; perhaps, not even read her 
 letter." 
 
 " Yes, he has read it," returned Sandford. 
 
 " Oh, Heavens !" exclaimed Matilda, ciasping her 
 hands together, and the tears falling still faster. 
 
 " Do not be so much alarmed, my dear," said 
 Miss Woodley : " you know we are prepared for the 
 worst ; and you know you promised your mother, 
 whatever your fate should be, to submit with pa- 
 tience." 
 
 " Yes," replied Matilda; " and I am prepared for 
 every thing but my father's refusal to my dear 
 mother." 
 
 " Your father has not refused your mother's re- 
 quest," replied Sandford. 
 
 She was leaping from her seat in ecstasy. 
 
 " But," continued he, c do you know what her 
 request was ? " 
 
 " Not entirely," replied Matilda ; " and since it 
 is granted, I am careless. But she told me her 
 letter concerned none but me." 
 
 To explain perfectly to Matilda, Lady Elmwood's 
 letter, and that she might perfectly understand upon 
 what terms she was admitted into Elmwood Castle,
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 227 
 
 Sand ford now read the letter to her ; and repeated, 
 as nearly as he could remember, the whole of the 
 conversation that passed between Lord Ehnwood 
 and himself; not even sparing, through an erroneous 
 delicacy, any of those threats her father had de- 
 nounced, should she dare to transgress the limits he 
 prescribed nor did he try to soften, in one instance, 
 a word he uttered. She listened sometimes with 
 tears, sometimes with hope, but always with awe, 
 and with terror, to every sentence in which her fa- 
 ther was concerned. Once she called him cruel 
 then exclaimed " he was kind ; " but at the end of 
 Sandford's intelligence, concluded " that she was 
 happy and grateful for the boon bestowed." Even 
 her mother had not a more exalted idea of Lord 
 Elinwood's worth than his daughter had formed ; 
 and this little bounty just obtained would not have 
 been greater in her mother's estimation than it was 
 now in hers. Miss Woodley, too, smiled at the 
 prospect before her : she esteemed Lord Elmwood 
 beyond any mortal living : she was proud to hear 
 what he had said in her praise, and overjoyed at the 
 expectation of being once again in his company ; 
 painting at the same time a thousand bright hopes, 
 from watching every emotion of his soul, and catch- 
 ing every proper occasion to excite or increase his 
 paternal sentiments. Yet she had the prudence to 
 conceal those vague hopes from his child, lest a 
 disappointment might prove fatal ; and assuming a 
 behaviour neither too much elated nor depressed, she 
 advised that they should hope for the best, but yet, 
 
 as usual, expect and prepare for the worst. After 
 
 taking measures for quitting their melancholy abode, 
 within the fortnight they all departed for Elmwood 
 Castle ; Matilda, Miss Woodley, and even Sandford, 
 first visiting Lady Elmwood's grave, and bedewing 
 it with their tears.
 
 228 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 It was on a dark evening in the month of March, 
 that Lady Matilda, accompanied by Sandford and 
 Miss Woodley, arrived at Elmwood Castle, the mag- 
 nificent seat of her father. Sandford chose the 
 evening, rather to steal into the house privately, 
 than by any appearance of parade to suffer Lord 
 Elmwood to be reminded of their arrival by the 
 public prints, or by any other accident. Nor would 
 he give the neighbours or servants reason to sup- 
 pose the daughter of their Lord was admitted into 
 his house, in any other situation than that in which 
 she really was permitted to be there. 
 
 As the porter opened the gates of the avenue to 
 the carriage that brought them, Matilda felt an 
 awful and yet gladsome sensation, which no terms 
 can describe. As she entered the door of the man- 
 sion this sensation increased and as she passed 
 along the spacious hall, the splendid staircase, and 
 many stately apartments, wonder, with a crowd of 
 the tenderest, yet most afflicting sentiments, rushed 
 to her heart. She gazed with astonishment ! she 
 reflected with still more. 
 
 " And is my father the master of this house ?" 
 she cried " and was my mother once the mistress 
 of this castle '( " Here tears relieved her from a 
 part of that burthen which was before insupport- 
 able. 
 
 " Yes," replied Sandford, " and you are the mis- 
 tress of it now, till your father arrives." 
 
 " Good Heaven ! " exclaimed she, " and will he 
 ever arrive ? And shall I live to sleep under the same 
 roof with my father ? " 
 
 " My dear," replied Miss Woodley, " have not 
 you been told so ?"
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 22}) 
 
 " Yes," said she, " but though I heard it with 
 extreme pleasure, yet the expectation never so for- 
 cibly affected me as at this moment. I now feel, as 
 the reality approaches, that to be admitted here, is 
 kindness enough : I do not ask for more I am now 
 convinced, from what this trial makes me feel, that 
 to see my father would occasion emotions I could 
 not perhaps survive." 
 
 The next morning gave to Matilda more objects 
 of admiration and wonder, as she walked over the 
 extensive gardens, groves, and other pleasure grounds 
 belonging to the house. She, who had never been 
 beyond the dreary, ruinous places which her de- 
 ceased mother had made her residence, was naturally 
 struck with amazement and delight, at the grandeur 
 of a seat, which travellers came for miles to see, nor 
 thought their time mispent. 
 
 There was one object, however, among all she 
 saw, which attracted her attention above the rest, 
 and she would stand for hours to look at it. This 
 was a whole-length portrait of Lord Elmwood, es- 
 teemed a very capital picture, and aperfect likeness. 
 To this picture she would sigh and weep ; though, 
 when it was first pointed out to her, she shrunk back 
 with fear, and it was some time before she dared 
 venture to cast her eyes completely upon it. In the 
 features of her father she was proud to discern the 
 exact mould in which her own appeared to have 
 been modelled ; yet Matilda's person, shape, and 
 complexion were so extremely like what her mother's 
 once were, that at the first glance, she appeared to 
 have a still greater resemblance of her, than of her 
 father: but her mind and manners were all Lord 
 Elm wood's ; softened by the delicacy of her sex, the 
 extreme tenderness of her heart, and the melancholy 
 of her situation. 
 
 VOL. XXVIII. x
 
 230 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 She was now in her seventeenth year : of the same 
 age, within a year and a few months, of her mother, 
 when she first became the ward of Dorriforth. She 
 was just three years old when her father went abroad 
 and remembered something of bidding him farewel ; 
 but more of taking cherries from his hand, as he 
 pulled them from the tree to give to her. 
 
 Educated in the school of adversity, and inured to 
 retirement from her infancy, she had acquired a 
 taste for all those amusements which a recluse life 
 affords. She was fond of walking and riding ; was 
 accomplished in the arts of music and drawing, by 
 the most careful instructions of her mother ; and as 
 a scholar, she excelled most of her sex, from the 
 pains which Sandford had taken with that part of 
 her education, and the superior abilities he possessed 
 for the task. 
 
 In devoting certain hours of the day to study with 
 him, others to music, riding, and such harmless re- 
 creations, Matilda's time never appeared tedious at 
 Elmwood Castle, although she received and paid no 
 one visit : for it was soon divulged in the neigh- 
 bourhood, upon what stipulation she resided at her 
 father's, and studiously intimated, that the most 
 prudent and friendly behaviour of her true friends 
 would be, to take no notice whatever that she lived 
 among them : and as Lord Elmwood's will was a 
 law all around, such was the consequence of that 
 will, known, or merely supposed. 
 
 Neither did Miss Woodley regret the want of 
 visitors, but found herself far more satisfied in her 
 present situation than her most sanguine hopes 
 could have formed. She had a companion whom 
 she loved with an equal fondness with which she 
 had loved her deceased mother ; and frequently, in 
 this charming habitation, where she had so often
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 231 
 
 beheld Lady Elmwood, her imagination represented 
 Matilda as her friend risen from the grave, in her 
 former youth, health, and exquisite beauty. 
 
 In peace, in content, though not in happiness, 
 the days and weeks passed away, till about the mid- 
 dle of August, when preparations began to be made 
 for the arrival of Lord Elmwood. The week in 
 which he was to come was at length fixed, and some 
 part of his retinue was arrived before him. When 
 this was told Matilda, she started, and looked just 
 as her mother at her age had often done, when, in 
 spite of her love, she was conscious that she had 
 offended him, and was terrified at his approach. 
 Sandford, observing this involuntary emotion, put 
 out his hand, and, taking hers, shook it kindly ; and 
 bade her (but it was not in a cheering tone) " not 
 be afraid." This gave her no confidence : and she 
 began, before her father's arrival, to seclude herself 
 in the apartments allotted for her during the time of 
 his stay ; and, in the timorous expectation of his 
 coming, her appetite declined, and she lost all her 
 colour. Even Miss Woodley, whose spirits had 
 been for some time elated with the hopes she had 
 formed, from his residence at the castle, on drawing 
 near to the test, found those hopes vanished ; and 
 though she endeavoured to conceal it, she was full 
 of apprehensions. Sandford had certainly fewer 
 fears than either ; yet upon the eve of the day on 
 which his patron was to arrive, he was evidently cast 
 down. 
 
 Lady Matilda once asked him ; " Are you cer- 
 tain, Mr. Sandford, you made no mistake in respect 
 to what Lord Elmwood said, when he granted my 
 mother's request? Are you sure he did grant it ? 
 Was there nothing equivocal on which he may 
 ground his displeasure, should he be told that I am 
 here ? Oh, do not let me hazard being once again 
 x 2
 
 232 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 turned out of his house ! Oh ! save me from pro- 
 voking him perhaps to execrate me." And here 
 she clasped her hands together with the most fervent 
 petition, in the dread of what might happen. 
 
 " If you doubt my words or my senses," said 
 Sandford, " call Giftard, who is just arrived, and 
 let him inform you : the same words were repeated 
 to him as to me." 
 
 Though from her reason, Matilda could not doubt 
 of any mistake from Mr. Sandford, yet her fears 
 suggested a thousand scruples ; and this reference 
 to the steward she received with the utmost satis- 
 faction, (though she did not think it necessary to 
 apply to him), as it perfectly convinced her of the 
 folly of the suspicions she had entertained. 
 
 " And yet, Mr. Sandford," said she, " if it is so, 
 why are you less cheerful than you were ? I cannot 
 help thinking but it must be the expected arrival of 
 Lord Elmwood which has occasioned this change." 
 " I don't know," replied Sandford, carelessly ; 
 " but I believe I am grown afraid of your father. 
 His temper is a great deal altered from what it once 
 was : he raises his voice, and uses harsh expressions 
 upon the least provocation : his eyes flash lightning, 
 and his face is distorted with anger upon the slight- 
 est motives : he turns away his old servants at a mo- 
 ment's warning, and no concession can make their 
 peace. In a word, I am more at my ease when I am 
 away from him ; and I really believe," added he 
 with a smile, but with a tear at the same time " I 
 really believe, I am more afraid of him in my age, 
 than lie was of me when he was a boy." 
 
 Miss Woodley was present : she and Matilda 
 looked at one another ; and each of them saw the 
 other turn pale at this description. 
 
 The day at length came on which Lord Elmwood 
 was expected to dinner. It would have been a high
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 233 
 
 gratification to his daughter to have gone to the 
 topmost window of the house, and have only beheld 
 his carriage enter the avenue ; but it was a gratifi- 
 cation which her fears, her tremor, her extreme 
 sensibility would not permit her to enjoy. 
 
 Miss Wood ley and she sat down that day to din- 
 ner in their retired apartments, which were detached 
 from the other part of the house by a gallery : and 
 of the door leading to the gallery they had a key, to 
 impede any one from passing that way, without first 
 ringing a bell ; to answer which was the sole em- 
 ployment of a servant, who was placed there during 
 the earl's residence, lest by any accident he might 
 chance to come near that unfrequented part of the 
 house : on which occasion the man was to give im- 
 mediate notice to his lady, so as she might avoid 
 his presence by retiring to an inner room. 
 
 Matilda and Miss Woodley sat down to dinner, 
 but did not dine. Sandford dined, as usual, with 
 Lord Elmwood. When tea was brought, Miss 
 Woodley asked the servant, who attended, if he had 
 seen his lord. The man answered, " Yes, madam ; 
 and he looks vastly well." Matilda wept with joy 
 to hear it. 
 
 About nine in the evening, Sandford rang at the 
 bell, and was admitted : never had he been so wel- 
 come. Matilda hung upon him as if his recent in- 
 terview with her father had endeared him to her 
 more than ever ; and, staring anxiously in his face, 
 seemed to inquire of him something about Lord Elm- 
 wood, and something that should not alarm her. 
 
 " Well how do you find yourself?'' said he to her. 
 
 " How are you, Mr. Sandford?" she returned, 
 with a sigh. 
 
 " Oh ! very well," replied he. 
 
 "Is my lord in a good temper?" asked Miss 
 Woodley. 
 
 x 3
 
 234 A SIiMPLE STORY. 
 
 " Yes, very well," replied Sandford, with in- 
 difference. 
 
 " Did he seem glad to see you?" asked Ma- 
 tilda. 
 
 " He shook me by the hand," replied Sandford. 
 
 " That was a sign he was glad to see you was it 
 not?" said Matilda. 
 
 " Yes ; but he could not do less." 
 
 " Nor more," replied she. 
 
 " He looks very well, our servant tells us," said 
 Miss Woodley. 
 
 " Extremely well, indeed," answered Sandford ; 
 " and to tell the truth, I never saw him in better 
 spirits." 
 
 " That is well," said Matilda, and sighed a weight 
 of fears from her heart. 
 
 " Where is he now, Mr. Sandford ?" 
 
 " Gone to take a walk about his grounds, and 
 I stole here in the mean time." 
 
 "What was your conversation during dinner?" 
 asked Miss Woodley. 
 
 " Horses, hay, farming, and politics." 
 
 " Won't you sup with him ? " 
 
 " I shall see him again before I go to bed." 
 
 " And again to-morrow?" cried Matilda: " what 
 happiness ! " 
 
 " He has visitors to-morrow," said Sandford, 
 " coming for a week or two." 
 
 " Thank Heaven," said Miss Woodley : " he will 
 then be diverted from thinking on us." 
 
 " Do you know," returned Sandford, " it is my 
 firm opinion, that his thinking of ye at present is 
 the cause of his good spirits." 
 
 " Oh, Heavens ! " cried Matilda, lifting up her 
 hands with rapture. 
 
 " Nay, do not mistake me," said Sandford : " I 
 would not have you build a foundation for joy upon
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 2515 
 
 this surmise ; for if he is in spirits that you are in 
 this house so near him positively under his pro- 
 tection yet he will not allow himself to think it is 
 the cause of his content ; and the sentiments he has 
 adopted, and which are now become natural to him, 
 will remain the same as ever: nay, perhaps with 
 greater force, should he suspect his weakness, as 
 he calls it, acting in opposition to them." 
 
 " If he does but think of me with tenderness," 
 cried Matilda, " I am recompensed." 
 
 " And what recompence would his kind thoughts 
 be to you," said Sandford, " were he to turn you 
 out to beggary?" 
 
 " A great deal a great deal," she replied. 
 " But how are you to know he has these kind 
 thoughts, if he gives you no proof of them?" 
 
 " No, Mr. Sandford ; but supposing we could 
 know them without proof." 
 
 " But as that is impossible," answered he, " I shall 
 suppose, till proof appears, that I have been mis- 
 taken in my conjectures." 
 
 Matilda looked deeply concerned that the argu- 
 ment should conclude in her disappointment ; for to 
 have believed herself thought of with tenderness 
 by her father, would have alone constituted her 
 happiness. 
 
 When the servant came up with something by 
 way of supper, he told Mr. Sandford that his lord 
 was returned from his walk, and had inquired for 
 him. Sandford immediately bade his companions 
 good night, and left them. 
 
 " How strange is this !" cried Matilda, when Miss 
 Woodley and she were alone " My father within a 
 few rooms of me, and yet I am debarred from see- 
 ing him ! Only by walking a few paces I could be 
 at his feet, and perhaps receive his blessing !" 
 " You make me shudder," cried Miss Woodley ;
 
 *23G A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " but some spirits less timid than mine might per- 
 haps advise you to the experiment ! " 
 
 " Not for worlds !" returned Matilda : " no counsel 
 could tempt me to such temerity ; and yet to en- 
 tertain the thought that it is possible I could do 
 this, is a source of infinite comfort." 
 
 This conversation lasted till bed-time, and later ; 
 for they sat up beyond their usual hour to indulge it. 
 
 Miss Woodley slept little, but Matilda less : she 
 awaked repeatedly during the night, and every time 
 sighed to herself, " I sleep in the same house with 
 my father ! Blessed spirit of my mother, look down 
 and rejoice." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 The next day the whole castle appeared to Lady 
 Matilda (though she was in some degree retired 
 from it) all tumult and bustle, as was usually the 
 case while Lord Elmwood was there. She saw from 
 her windows the servants running across the yards 
 and park ; horses and carriages driving with fury ; 
 all the suite of a nobleman ; and it sometimes elated, 
 at other times depressed her. 
 
 These impressions, however, and others of fear and 
 anxiety, which her father's arrival had excited, by 
 degrees wore off; and after some little time she 
 was in the same tranquil state that she enjoyed be- 
 fore he came. 
 
 He had visitors, who passed a week or two with 
 him ; he paid visits himself for several days ; and 
 thus the time stole away, till it was about four weeks 
 from the time that he had arrived : in which long 
 period Sandford, with all his penetration, could
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 237 
 
 never clearly discover whether he had once called 
 to mind that his daughter was living in the same 
 house. He had not once named her (that was not 
 extraordinary) ; consequently no one dared name her 
 to him; but he had not even mentioned Miss Wood- 
 ley, of whom he had so lately spoken in the kindest 
 terms, and had said, " he should take pleasure in 
 seeing her again." From these contradictions in 
 Lord Elmwood's behaviour in respect to her, it was 
 Miss Woodley's plan neither to throw herself in 
 his way, nor avoid him. She therefore frequently 
 walked about the house while he was in it, not in- 
 deed entirely without restraint, but at least with 
 the show of liberty. This freedom, indulged for 
 some time without peril, became at last less cau- 
 tious ; and as no ill consequences had arisen from 
 its practice, her scruples gradually ceased. 
 
 One morning, however, as she was crossing the 
 large hall, thoughtless of danger, a footstep at a 
 distance alarmed her almost without knowing why. 
 She stopped for a moment, thinking to return : the 
 steps approached quicker ; and before she could 
 retreat, she beheld Lord Elmwood at the other end 
 of the hall, and perceived that he saw her. It was 
 too late to hesitate what was to be done : she could 
 not go back, and had not courage to go on : she 
 therefore stood still. Disconcerted, and much 
 affected at his sight (their former intimacy coming 
 to her mind with the many years, and many sad 
 occurrences passed, since she last saw him), all her 
 intentions, all her meditated schemes how to conduct 
 herself on such an occasion, gave way to a sudden 
 shock ; and to make the meeting yet more distress- 
 ing, her very fright, she knew, would serve to recal 
 more powerfully to his mind the subject she most 
 wished him to forget. The steward was with him ; 
 and as they came up close by her side, Giffard ob-
 
 238 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 serving him look at her earnestly, said softly, but so 
 as she heard him, " My lord, it is Miss Woodley." 
 Lord Elmwood took off his hat instantly; and, with 
 an apparent friendly warmth, laying hold of her 
 hand, he said, " Indeed, Miss Woodley, I did not 
 know you ; I am very glad to see you :" and while 
 he spoke, shook her hand with a cordiality which 
 her tender heart could not bear ; and never did she 
 feel so hard a struggle as to restrain her tears. But 
 the thought of Matilda's fate : the idea of awaken- 
 ing in his mind a sentiment that might irritate him 
 against his child, wrought more forcibly than every 
 other effort ; and though she could not reply dis- 
 tinctly, she replied without weeping. Whether he 
 saw her embarrassment, and wished to release her 
 from it, or was in haste to conceal his own, he left 
 her almost instantly ; but not till he had entreated 
 she would dine that very day with him and Mr. 
 Sandford, who were to dine without other company. 
 She curtsied assent, and flew to tell Matilda what 
 had occurred. After listening with anxiety and 
 with joy to all she told, Matilda laid hold of that, 
 hand which she said Lord Elmwood had held, and 
 pressed it to her lips with love and reverence. 
 
 When Miss Woodley made her appearance at 
 dinner, Sandford (who had not seen her since the 
 invitation, and did not know of it,) looked amazed ; 
 on which Lord Elmwood said, " Do you know, 
 Sandford, I met Miss Woodley this morning; and, 
 had it not been for Giffard, I should have passed her 
 without knowing her. But, Miss Woodley, if I am 
 not so much altered but that you knew me, I take 
 it unkind you did not speak first." She was unable 
 to speak even now : he saw it, and changed the 
 conversation ; when Sandford eagerly joined in dis- 
 course, which relieved him from the pain of the 
 former.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 2'M) 
 
 As they advanced in their dinner, the embarrass- 
 ment of Miss Woodley and of Mr. Sand ford dimi- 
 nished ; Lord Elmwood, in his turn, became, not 
 embarrassed, but absent and melancholy. He now 
 and then sighed heavily ; and called for wine much 
 oftener than he was accustomed. 
 
 When Miss Woodley took her leave, he invited 
 her to dine with him and Sandford whenever it was 
 convenient to her : he said, besides, many things 
 of the same kind, and all with the utmost civility, 
 yet not with that warmth with which he had spoken 
 in the morning : into that he had been surprised ; 
 his coolness was the effect of reflection. 
 
 When she came to Lady Matilda, and Sandford 
 had joined them, they talked and deliberated on what 
 had passed. 
 
 " You acknowledge, Mr. Sandford," said Miss 
 Woodley, " that you think my presence affected 
 Lord Elmwood, so as to make him much more 
 thoughtful than usual: if you imagine these thoughts 
 were upon Lady Elmwood, I will never intrude 
 again ; but if you suppose that I made him think 
 upon his daughter, I cannot go too often." 
 
 " I don't see how he can divide those two objects 
 in his mind," replied Sandford : " therefore you 
 must e'en visit him on, and take your chance, what 
 reflections you may cause ; but, be they what they 
 will, time will steal away from you that power of 
 affecting him." 
 
 She concurred in the opinion, and occasionally 
 she walked into Lord Elmwood's apartments, dined, 
 or took her coffee with him, as the accident suited ; 
 and observed, according to Sandford's prediction, 
 that time wore off the impression her visits first 
 made. Lord Elmwood now became just the same 
 before her as before others. She easily discerned, 
 too, through all that politeness which he assumed
 
 240 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 that he was no longer the considerate, the for- 
 bearing- character he formerly was ; but haughty, 
 impatient, imperious, and more than ever impla- 
 cable. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 When Lord Elm wood had been at his country seat 
 about six weeks, Mr. Rushbrook, his nephew and 
 his adopted child that friendless boy whom Lady 
 Elmwood first introduced into his uncle's house, and 
 by her kindness preserved there arrived from his 
 travels, and was received by his uncle with all the 
 marks of affection due to the man he thought worthy 
 to be his heir. Rushbrook had been a beautiful 
 boy, and was now an extremely handsome young 
 man : he had made unusual progress in his studies, 
 had completed the tour of Italy and Germany, and 
 returned home with the air and address of a perfect 
 man of fashion. There was, besides, an elegance and 
 persuasion in his manner almost irresistible. Yet 
 with all those accomplishments, when he was intro- 
 duced to Sandford, and put forth his hand to take 
 his, Sandford, with evident reluctance, gave it to 
 him: and when Lord Elmwood asked him, in the 
 young man's presence, " if he did not think his 
 nephew greatly improved," he looked at him from 
 head to foot, and muttered " he could not say he 
 observed it." The colour heightened in Mr. Rush- 
 brook's face upon the occasion ; but he was too well 
 bred not to be in perfect good humour. 
 
 Sandford saw this young man treated, in the house 
 of Lord Elmwood, with the same respect and atten- 
 tion as if he had been his son ; and it was but pro- 
 bable that the old priest would make a comparison
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 24L 
 
 betwcen the situation of him and of Lady Matilda 
 Elmwood. Before her, it was Sandford's meaning 
 to have concealed his thoughts upon the subject, 
 and never to have mentioned it but with composure. 
 That was, however, impossible : unused to hide his 
 feelings, at the name of Rushbrook his countenance 
 would always change ; and a sarcastic sneer, some- 
 times a frown of resentment, would force its way in 
 spite of his resolution. Miss Woodley, too, with all 
 her boundless charity and good will, was, upon this 
 occasion, induced to limit their excess ; and they 
 did not extend so far as to reach poor Rushbrook. 
 She even, and in reality, did not think him hand- 
 some or engaging in his manners : she thought his 
 gaiety frivolousness, his complaisance affectation, 
 and his good-humour impertinence. It was impos- 
 sible to conceal those unfavourable sentiments en- 
 tirely from Matilda ; for when the subject arose, as 
 it frequently did, Miss Woodley's undisguised heart, 
 and Sandford's undisguised countenance, told them 
 instantly. Matilda had the understanding to ima- 
 gine, that she was, perhaps, the object who had thus 
 deformed Mr. Rushbrook, and frequently (though 
 he was a stranger to her, and one who had caused 
 her many a jealous heart-ach), frequently she would 
 speak in his vindication. 
 
 " You are very good," said Sandford, one day to 
 her : " you like him, because you know your father 
 loves him." 
 
 This was a hard sentence for the daughter of 
 Lord Elmwood to hear, to whom her father's love 
 would have been more precious than any other 
 blessing : she, however, checked the assault of envy 
 and kindly replied, 
 
 " My mother loved him too, Mr. Sandford." 
 
 " Yes," answered Sandford, " he has been a 
 grateful man to your poor mother. She did not sup- 
 
 VOL. xxvm. Y
 
 242 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 pose when she took him into the house when she 
 entreated your father to take him and through her 
 caresses and officious praises of him, first gave him 
 that power which he now possesses over his uncle : 
 she little foresaw, at that time, his ingratitude, and 
 its effects." 
 
 " Very true," said Miss Woodley, with a heavy 
 sigh. 
 
 " What ingratitude ?" asked Matilda. " Do you 
 suppose Mr. Rushbrook is the cause that my father 
 will not see me ? Oh, do not pay Lord Elmwood's 
 motive so ill a compliment." 
 
 " I do not say that he is the absolute cause," re- 
 turned Sandford: " but if a parent's heart is void, I 
 would have it remain so, till its lawful owner is re- 
 placed. Usurpers I detest." 
 
 " No one can take Lord Elmwood's heart by 
 force," replied his daughter : " it must, I believe, be 
 a free gift to the possessor ; and, as such, whoever 
 has it has a right to it." 
 
 In this manner she would plead the young man's 
 excuse ; perhaps but to hear what could be said in 
 his disfavour, for secretly his name was bitter to her 
 -and once she exclaimed in vexation, on Sandford's 
 saying Lord Elmwood and Mr. Rushbrook were 
 gone out shooting together, 
 
 " All that pleasure is eclipsed which I used to take 
 in listening to the report of my father's gun ; for I 
 cannot now distinguish his from his parasite's." 
 
 Sandford (much as he disliked Rushbrook), for 
 this expression, which comprised her father in the 
 reflection, turned to Matilda in extreme anger : but 
 as he saw the colour rise into her face, for what, in 
 the strong feelings of her heart, had escaped her lips, 
 he did not say a word; and by her tears that follow- 
 ed, he rejoiced to see how much she reproved herself . 
 
 Miss Woodley, vexed to the heart, and provoked
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 243 
 
 every time she saw Lord Elmwood and Rushbrook 
 together, and saw the familiar terms on which this 
 young man lived with his benefactor, now made her 
 visits to him very seldom. If Lord Elmwood observed 
 this, he did not appear to observe it ; and though 
 he received her politely when she did pay him a 
 visit, it was always very coldly : nor did she suppose 
 if she never went, he would ever ask for her. For 
 his daughter's sake, however, she thought it right 
 sometimes to shew herself before him ; for she knew 
 it must be impossible that, with all his apparent in- 
 difference, he could ever see her without thinking 
 for a moment on his child ; and what one fortunate 
 thought might some time bring about was an object 
 much too serious for her to overlook. She therefore, 
 after remaining confined to her own suite of rooms 
 near three weeks, (excepting those anxious walks 
 she and Matilda stole, while Lord Elmwood dined, 
 or before he rose in a morning,) went one forenoon 
 into his apartments, where, as usual, she found him 
 with Mr. Sandford and Mr. Rushbrook. After she 
 had sat about half an hour, conversing with them 
 all, though but very little with the latter, Lord Elm- 
 wood was called out of the room upon some business : 
 presently after, Sandford : and now, by no means 
 pleased with the companion with whom she was left, 
 she rose, and was also retiring, when Rushbrook 
 fixed his speaking eyes upon her, and cried, 
 
 " Miss Woodley, will you pardon me what I am 
 going to say "? " 
 
 ;< Certainly, sir you can, I am sure, say nothing 
 but what I must forgive." But she made this reply 
 with a distance and a reserve very unlike the usual 
 manners of Miss Woodley. 
 
 He looked at her earnestly, and cried, "Ah ! Miss 
 Woodley, you don't behave so kindly to me as you 
 used to do ! " 
 
 Y 2
 
 244 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " I do not understand you, sir," she replied very 
 gravely. " Times are changed, Mr. Rushbrook, 
 since vou were last here : you were then but a 
 child." 
 
 " Yet I love all those persons now, that I loved 
 then," replied he ; " and so I shall for ever." 
 
 " But you mistake, Mr. Rushbrook : I was not, 
 even then, so very much the object of your affections 
 there were other ladies you loved better. Per- 
 haps you don't remember Lady Elmwood !" 
 
 " Don't I ?" cried he. " Oh ! " (clasping his hands 
 and lifting up his eyes to heaven), " shall I ever 
 forget her 1 " 
 
 That moment Lord Elmwood opened the door : 
 the conversation, of course, that moment ended ; but 
 confusion, at the sudden surprise, was on the face of 
 both parties: he saw it, and looked at each of them 
 by turns with a sternness that made poor Miss 
 Woodley ready to faint ; while Rushbrook, with the 
 mostnatural and happy laugh that ever was affected, 
 cried, " No, don't tell my lord, pray, Miss Woodley." 
 She was more confused than before, and Lord 
 Elmwood turning to him, asked what the subject 
 was. By this time he had invented one, and, con- 
 tinuing his laugh, said, " Miss Woodley, my lord, 
 will to this day protest that she saw my apparition 
 when I was a boy ; and she says it is a sign I shall 
 die young, and is really much affected at it." 
 
 Lord Elmwood turned away before this ridiculous 
 speech was concluded; yet so well had it been acted, 
 that he did not for an instant doubt its truth. 
 
 Miss Woodley felt herself greatly relieved ; and 
 yet so little is it in the power of those we dislike to 
 do any thing to please us, that from this very cir- 
 cumstance, she formed a more unfavourable opinion 
 of Mr. Rushbrook than she had done before. She 
 saw in this little incident the art of dissimulation,
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 245 
 
 cunning, and duplicity in its most glaring shape; and 
 detested the method by which they had each escaped 
 Lord Elmwood's suspicion, and perhaps anger, the 
 more, because it was so dexterously managed. 
 
 Lady Matilda and Sandford were both in their 
 turns informed of this trait in Mr. Rushbrook's 
 character : and although Miss Woodley had the best 
 of dispositions, and upon every occasion spoke the 
 strictest truth, yet, in relating this occurrence, she 
 did not speak all the truth ; for every circumstance 
 that would have told to the young man's advantage 
 literally had slipped her memory. 
 
 The twenty-ninth of October arrived, on which a 
 dinner, a ball, and supper, was given by Lord Elm- 
 wood to all the neighbouring gentry : the peasants 
 also dined in the park off a roasted bullock : several 
 casks of ale were distributed, and the bells of the 
 village rung. Matilda, who heard and saw some 
 part of this festivity from her windows, inquired the 
 cause ; but even the servant who waited upon her 
 had too much sensibility to tell her, and answered, 
 " he did not know." Miss Woodley, however, soon 
 learned the reason, and, groaning with the painful 
 secret, informed her, " Mr. Rushbrook on that day 
 was come of age." 
 
 " My birth-day was last week," replied Matilda ; 
 but not a word beside. 
 
 In their retired apartments, this day passed away 
 not only soberly, but almost silently ; for to speak 
 upon any subject that did not engage their thoughts 
 had been difficult, and to speak upon the only one 
 that did had been afflicting. 
 
 Just as they were sitting down to dinner their 
 bell gently rung, and in walked Sandford. 
 
 iX Why are you not among the revellers, Mr. 
 Sandford V cried Miss Woodley, with an ironical 
 Y 3
 
 246 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 sneer, (the first her features ever wore). "Pray, were 
 not you invited to dine with the company ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Sandford : " but my head ached ; 
 and so I had rather come and take a bit with you." 
 
 Matilda, as if she had seen his heart as he spoke, 
 clung round his neck and sobbed on his bosom : 
 he put her peevishly away, crying " Nonsense, non- 
 sense : eat yoifr dinner." But he did not eat him- 
 self. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 About a week after this, Lord Elmwood went out 
 two days for a visit : consequently Rushbrook was 
 for that time master of the house. The first morning 
 he went a-shooting, and returning about noon, in- 
 quired of Sandford, who was sitting in the breakfast- 
 room, if he had taken up a volume of plays left upon 
 the table. " I read no such things," replied Sand- 
 ford, and quitted the room abruptly. Rushbrook 
 then rang for his servant, and desired him to look 
 for the book, asking him angrily, " who had been 
 in the apartment ; for he was sure he had left it 
 there when he went out." The servant withdrew to 
 inquire, and presently returned with the volume in 
 his hand, and " Miss Woodley's compliments : she 
 begs your pardon, sir : she did not know the book 
 was yours, and hopes you will excuse the libertv she 
 took." 
 
 " Miss Woodley !" criedRushbrook with surprise : 
 " she comes so seldom into these apartments, I did 
 not suppose it was her who had it. Take it back to 
 her instantly, with mv respects, and I beg she will 
 keep it."
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 247 
 
 The man went, but returned with the book again, 
 and, laying it on the table without speaking, was going 
 away; when Rushbrook, hurt at receiving no second 
 message, said, " I am afraid, sir, you did very wrong 
 when you first took this book from Miss Woodley." 
 
 " It was not from her 1 took it, sir," replied the 
 man : " it was from Lady Matilda." 
 
 Since he had entered the house, Rushbrook had 
 never before heard the name of Lady Matilda. He 
 was shocked, confounded more than ever ; and to 
 conceal what he felt, instantly ordered the man out 
 of the room. 
 
 In the mean time, Miss Woodley and Matilda were 
 talking over this trifling occurrence ; and, frivolous 
 as it was, drew from it strong conclusions of Rush- 
 brook's insolence and power. In spite of her pride, 
 the daughter of Lord Elmwood even wept at the 
 insult she had received on this insignificantoccasion : 
 for, the volume being merely taken from her at Mr. 
 Rushbrook's command, she felt an insult ; and the 
 manner in which it was done by the servant might 
 contribute to the offence. 
 
 While Miss Woodley and she were upon this con- 
 versation, a note came from Rushbrook to Miss 
 Woodley, wherein he entreated he might be per- 
 mitted to see her. She sent a verbal answer, " She 
 was engaged." He sent again, begging she would 
 name her own time. But sure of a second denial, 
 he followed the servant who took the last message ; 
 and as Miss Woodley came out of her apartment 
 into the gallery to speak to him, Rushbrook pre- 
 sented himself, and told the man to retire. 
 
 " Mr. Rushbrook," said Miss Woodley, " this 
 intrusion is unmannerly ; and destitute as you may 
 
 think me of the friendship of Lord Elmwood" 
 
 In the ardour with which Rushbrook was waiting
 
 248 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 to express himself, he interrupted her, and caught 
 hold of her hand. 
 
 She immediately snatched it from him, and with- 
 drew into her chamber. 
 
 He followed, saying, in a low voice, " Dear Miss 
 Woodley, hear me." 
 
 At that juncture Lady Matilda, who was in an 
 inner apartment, came out of it into Miss Woodley 's. 
 Perceiving a gentleman, she stopped short at the 
 door. 
 
 Rushbrook cast his eyes upon her, and stood 
 motionless : his lips only moved. " Do not depart, 
 madam," said he, " without hearing my apology for 
 being here." 
 
 Though Matilda had never seen him since her 
 infancy, there was no occasion to tell her who it was 
 that addressed her: his elegant and youthful person, 
 joined to the incident which had just occurred, con- 
 vinced her it was Rushbrook. She looked at him 
 with an air of surprise, but with still more of dignity. 
 
 " Miss Woodley is severe upon me, madam,' 
 continued he : " she judges me unkindly ; and I am 
 afraid she will prepossess you with the same unfa- 
 vourable Sentiments." 
 
 Still Matilda did not speak, but looked at him 
 with the same air of dignity. 
 
 " If, Lady Matilda," resumed he, " I have of- 
 fended you, and must quit you without pardon, I 
 am more unhappy than I should be with the loss 
 of your father's protection ; more forlorn than, 
 when an orphan boy, your mother first took pity 
 on me." 
 
 At this last sentence, Matilda turned her eyes on 
 Miss Woodley, and seemed in doubt what reply she 
 was to give. 
 
 Rushbrook immediately fell upon his knees. "Oh !
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 249 
 
 Lady Matilda," cried he, " if you knew the sensa- 
 tions of my heart, you would not treat me with this 
 disdain." 
 
 " We can only judge of those sensations, Mr. 
 Rushbrook," said Miss Woodley, " by the effect 
 they have upon your conduct : and while you insult 
 Lord and Lady Elmwood's daughter by an intrusion 
 like this, and then ridicule her abject state by 
 
 mockeries like these " 
 
 He rose from his knees instantly, and interrupted 
 her, crying, " What can I do ? What am I to say, 
 to make you change your opinion of me? While 
 Lord Elmwood has been at home, I have kept an 
 awful distance ; and though every moment I breath- 
 ed was a wish to cast myself at his daughter's feet, 
 yet as I feared, Miss Woodley, that you were in- 
 censed against me, by what means was I to procure 
 an interview but by stratagem or force 1 This ac- 
 cident has given a third method, and I had not 
 strength, I had not courage, to let it pass. Lord 
 Elmwood will soon return, and we may both of us 
 be hurried to town immediately. Then how, for a 
 tedious winter, could I endure the reflection that I 
 was despised, nay, perhaps considered as an object 
 of ingratitude, by the only child of my deceased 
 benefactress ? " 
 
 Matilda replied with all her father's haughtiness: 
 " Depend upon it, sir, if you should ever enter my 
 thoughts, it will only be as an object of envy." 
 
 " Suffer me then, madam," said he, " as an 
 earnest that you do not think worse of me than I 
 merit suffer me to be sometimes admitted into 
 your presence." 
 
 She would scarce permit him to finish the period, 
 before she replied, " This is the last time, sir, we 
 shall ever meet; depend upon it; unless, indeed, 
 Lord Elmwood should delegate to you the controul
 
 250 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 of my actions his commands I never dispute."' 
 And here she burst into tears. 
 
 Rushbrook walked towards the window, and did 
 not speak for some time ; then turning himself to 
 make a reply, both Matilda and Miss Woodley were 
 somewhat surprised to see that he had shed tears 
 himself. Having conquered them, he said, " I will 
 not offend you, madam, by remaining one moment 
 longer ; and I give you my honour, that, upon no 
 pretence whatever, will I presume to intrude here 
 again. Professions, I find, have no weight'; and only 
 by this obedience to your orders can 1 give a proof 
 of that respect which you inspire ; and let the agita- 
 tion I now feel convince you, Lady Matilda, that, 
 with all my seeming good fortune, I am not happier 
 than yourself." And so much was he agitated while 
 he delivered this address, that it was with difficulty 
 he came to the conclusion. When he did, he bowed 
 with reverence, as if leaving the presence of a deity, 
 and retired. 
 
 Matilda immediately entered the chamber she had 
 left, without casting a single look at Miss Woodley 
 by which she might guess of the opinion she had 
 formed of Mr. Rushbrook's conduct. The next 
 time they met they did not even mention his name ; 
 for they were ashamed to own a partiality in his 
 favour, and were too just to bring any accusation 
 against him. 
 
 But Miss Woodley, the day following, communi- 
 cated the intelligence of this visit to Mr. Sandford, 
 who, not having been present and a witness of those 
 marks of humility and respect which were con- 
 spicuous in the deportment of Mr. Rushbrook, was 
 highly offended at his presumption ; and threatened 
 if he ever dared to force his company there again, 
 he would acquaint Lord Elmwood with his arro- 
 gance, whatever might be the event. Miss Wood
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 251 
 
 lev, however, assured him, she believed he would 
 have no cause for such a complaint, as the young- 
 man had made the most solemn promise never to 
 commit the like offence ; and she thought it her 
 duty to enjoin Sandford, till he did repeat it, not to 
 mention the circumstance, even to Rushbrook him- 
 self. 
 
 Matilda could not but feel a regard for her father's 
 heir, in return for that which he had so fervently 
 declared for her : yet the more favourable her opi- 
 nion of his mind and manners, the more he became 
 an object of her jealousy for the affections of Lord 
 Elmwood; and he was now, consequently, an object 
 of greater sorrow to her than when she believed 
 him less worthy. These sentiments were reversed 
 on his part towards her : no jealousy intervened to 
 bar his admiration and esteem : the beauty of her 
 person, and grandeur of her mien, not only con- 
 firmed, but improved, the exalted idea he had form- 
 ed of her previous to their meeting, and which his 
 affection to both her parents had inspired. The 
 next time he saw his benefactor, he began to feel a 
 new esteem and regard for him, for his daughter's 
 sake ; as he had at first an esteem for her, on the 
 foundation of his love for Lord and Lady Elmwood. 
 He gazed with wonder at his uncle's insensibility to 
 his own happiness, and would gladly have led him to 
 the jewel he cast away, though even his own expul- 
 sion should have been the fatal consequence. Such 
 was the youthful, warm, generous, grateful, but un- 
 reflecting mind of Rushbrook.
 
 252 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 After this incident, Miss Woodley left her apart- 
 ments less frequently than before. She was afraid, 
 though till now mistrust had been a stranger to her 
 heart she was afraid, that duplicity might be con- 
 cealed under the apparent friendship of Rushbrook. 
 It did not indeed appear so from any part of his late 
 behaviour, but she was apprehensive for the fate of 
 Matilda: she disliked him too, and therefore she 
 suspected him. Near three weeks she had not now 
 paid a visit to Lord Elmwood ; and though to her- 
 self every visit was a pain, yet as Matilda took a 
 delight in hearing of her father, what he said, what 
 he did, what his attention seemed most employed 
 on, and a thousand other circumstantial informa- 
 tions, in which Sandford would scorn to be half so 
 particular, it was a deprivation to her, that Miss 
 Woodley did not go oftener. Now, too, the middle 
 of November was come, and it was expected her 
 father would soon quit his country seat. 
 
 Partly therefore to indulge her hapless companion, 
 and partly because it was a duty, Miss Woodley 
 once again paid Lord Elmwood a morning visit, and 
 staid dinner. Rushbrook was officiously polite, (for 
 that was the epithet she gave his attention in re- 
 lating it to Lady Matilda) ; yet she owned he had not 
 that forward impertinence she had formerly disco- 
 vered in him, but appeared much more grave and 
 sedate. 
 
 " But tell me of my father," said Matilda. 
 
 " I was going, my dear but don't be concerned 
 don't let it vex you." 
 
 "What? what?" cried Matilda, frightened by 
 the preface.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 253 
 
 " Why, on my observing that I thought Mr. 
 Rushbrook looked paler than usual, and appeared 
 not to be in perfect health (which was really the 
 case), your father expressed the greatest anxiety 
 imaginable : he said he could not bear to see him 
 look so ill, begged him, with all the tenderness of a 
 parent, to take the advice of a physician, and added 
 a thousand other affectionate things." 
 
 " I detest Mr. Rushbrook," said Matilda, with 
 her eyes flashing indignation. 
 
 " Nay, for shame ! " returned Miss Woodley : 
 " do you suppose I told you this, to make you hate 
 him?" 
 
 " No, there was no occasion for that," replied 
 Matilda : " my sentiments (though I have never 
 before avowed them) were long ago formed : he was 
 always an object which added to my unhappiness ; 
 but since his daring intrusion into my apartments, he 
 has been the object of my hatred." 
 
 " But now, perhaps, I may tell you something to 
 please you," cried Miss Woodley. 
 
 " And what is that ?" said Matilda with indif- 
 ference ; for the first intelligence had hurt her spirits 
 too much to surfer her to listen with pleasure to any 
 thing. 
 
 " Mr. Rushbrook," continued Miss Woodley, 
 V replied to your father, that his indisposition was 
 but a slight nervous fever, and he would defer a 
 physician's advice till he went to London ; on which 
 Lord Elmwood said, And when do you expect to 
 be there'?' he replied, Within a week or two, I 
 suppose, my lord.' But your father answered, ' I 
 do not mean to go myself till after Christmas.' 
 ' No indeed, my lord ! ' said Mr. Sandford, with 
 surprise : ' you have not passed your Christmas here 
 these many years.' * No,' returned your father ; 
 
 vol. xxvm. z
 
 254 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 ' but I think 1 feel myself more attached to this 
 house at present, than ever I did in my life.'" 
 
 " You imagine, then, my father thought of me, 
 when he said this ? " cried Matilda eagerly. 
 
 " But I may be mistaken," replied Miss Wood ley. 
 " I leave you to judge. Though I am sure Mr. 
 Sandford imagined he thought of you, for I saw 
 a smile over his whole face immediately." 
 " Did you, Miss Woodley V 
 "\es: it appeared on every feature except his 
 lips ; those he kept fast closed, for fear Lord Elm- 
 wood should perceive it." 
 
 Miss Woodley, with all her minute intelligence, 
 did not, however, acquaint Matilda, thatRushbrook 
 followed her to the window when the earl was out of 
 the room, and Sandford half asleep at the other end 
 of it, and inquired respectfully but anxiously for her; 
 adding, " It is my concern for Lady Matilda which 
 makes me thus indisposed : I suffer more than she 
 does ; but I am not permitted to tell her so : nor can 
 I hope, Miss Woodley, that you will." She replied, 
 " You are right, sir." Nor did she reveal this con- 
 versation, while not a sentence that passed, except 
 that, was omitted. 
 
 When Christmas arrived, Lord Elmwood had 
 many convivial days at Elmwood house ; but Matilda 
 was never mentioned by one of his guests, and most 
 probably was never thought of. During all those 
 holidays, she was unusually melancholy, but sunk 
 into the deepest dejection when she was told the day 
 was fixed, on which her father was to return to town. 
 On the morning of that day she wept incessantly ; 
 and all her consolation was, " She would go to the 
 chamber window that was fronting the door through 
 which he was to pass to his carriage, and for the first, 
 time, and most probably for the last time in her life, 
 behold him."
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 255 
 
 This design was soon forgot in another : " she 
 would rush boldly into the apartment where he was, 
 and at his feet take leave of him for ever : she 
 would lay hold of his hands, clasp his knees, provoke 
 him to spurn her, which would be joy in comparison 
 to this cruel indifference." In the bitterness of her 
 grief, she once called upon her mother, and re- 
 proached her memory ; but the moment she recol- 
 lected this offence (which was almost instantaneous- 
 ly), she became all mildness and resignation, " What 
 have I said?" cried she. " Dear, dear honoured 
 saint, forgive me ; and for your sake I will bear all 
 I have to bear with patience: I will not groan: I 
 will not even sigh again : this task 1 set myself, to 
 atone for what I have dared to utter." 
 
 While Lady Matilda laboured under this variety 
 of sensations, Miss Woodley was occupied in be- 
 wailing, and endeavouring to calm her sorrows ; and 
 Lord Elmwood, with Rushbrook, was ready to set 
 off. The earl, however, loitered, and did not once 
 seem in haste to be gone. When at last he got up 
 to depart, Sandford thought he pressed his hand, and 
 shook it with more warmth than ever he had done 
 in his life. Encouraged by this supposition, Sand- 
 ford said, " My lord, won't you condescend to take 
 your leave of Miss Woodley?" " Certainly, Sand- 
 ford," replied he, and seemed glad of an excuse to 
 sit down again. 
 
 Impressed with the pitiable state in which she had 
 left his only child, Miss Woodley, when she came 
 before Lord Elmwood to bid him farewel, was pale, 
 trembling, and in tears. Sandford, notwithstand- 
 ing his patron's apparently kind humour, was alarm- 
 ed at the construction he must put upon her ap- 
 pearance, and cried, " What, Miss Woodley, are 
 you not recovered of your illness yet?" Lord Elm- 
 wood, however, took no notice of her looks : but, 
 z 2
 
 256 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 after wishing her her health, walked slowly out of 
 the house ; turning back frequently and speaking to 
 Sandford, or to some other person who was behind 
 him, as if part of his thoughts were left behind, and 
 he went with reluctance. 
 
 When he had quitted the room where Miss Wood- 
 ley was, Rushbrook, timid before her, as she had 
 been before her benefactor, went up to her, all hu- 
 mility, and said, " Miss Woodley, we ought to be 
 friends : our concern, our devotion is paid to the 
 same objects, and one common interest should teach 
 us to be friendly." 
 
 She made no reply. " Will you permit me to 
 write to you when I am away?" said he. " You may 
 wish to hear of Lord Elmwood's health, and of what 
 changes may take place in his resolutions. Will you 
 
 permit me?" At that moment a servant came 
 
 and said, " Sir, my lord is in the carriage, and 
 waiting for you." He hastened away, and Miss 
 Woodley was relieved from the pain of giving him a 
 denial. 
 
 No sooner was the travelling carriage, with all its 
 attendants, out of sight, than Lady Matilda was 
 conducted by Miss Woodley from her lonely retreat, 
 into that part of the house from whence her father 
 had just departed ; and she visited every spot where 
 he had so long resided, with a pleasing curiosity, 
 that for a while diverted her grief. In the breakfast 
 and dining rooms, she leaned over those seats, with a 
 kind of filial piety, on which she was told he had 
 been accustomed to sit. And, in the library, she 
 took up with filial delight, the pen with which he had 
 been writing; and looked with the most curious atten- 
 tion into those books that were laid upon his read- 
 ing desk. But a hat, lying on one of the tables, gave 
 her a sensation beyond any other she experienced 
 on this occasion : in that trifling article of his dress,
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 257 
 
 she thought she saw himself, and held it in her haud 
 
 with pious reverence. 
 
 In the mean time, Lord Elm wood and Rushbrook 
 were proceeding- on the road, with hearts not less 
 heavy than those which they had left at Elmwood 
 House ; though neither of them could so well define 
 the cause of this oppression, as Matilda could ac- 
 count for the weight which oppressed hers. 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 Young as Lady Matilda was during the life of her 
 mother, neither her youth, nor the recluse state in 
 which she lived, had precluded her from the notice 
 and solicitations of a nobleman who had professed 
 himse'f her lover. V r iscount Margrave had an estate 
 not far distant from the retreat Lady Elmwood had 
 chosen ; and being devoted to the sports of the 
 country, he seldom quitted it for any of those joys 
 which the town offered. He was a young man, of a 
 handsome person, and was, what his neighbours 
 called, " a man of spirit." He was an excellent 
 fox-hunter, and as excellent a companion over his 
 bottle at the end of the chace : he was prodigal of 
 his fortune, where his pleasures were concerned, and 
 as those pleasures were chiefly social, his sporting 
 companions and his mistresses (for these were also 
 of the plural number) partook largely of his wealth. 
 Two months previous to Lady Elmwood's death, 
 Miss Woodlev and Lady Matilda were taking their 
 usual walk in some fields and lanes near to their 
 house, when chance threw Lord Margrave in their 
 way during a thunder-storm, in which they were 
 suddenly caught; and he had the satisfaction to 
 convcv his new acquaintances to their home in his 
 z 3
 
 258 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 coach, safe from the fury of the elements. Grateful 
 for the service he had rendered them, Miss Woodley 
 and her charge permitted him to inquire occasional- 
 ly after their health, and would sometimes see him. 
 The story of Lady Elmwood was known to Lord 
 Margrave ; and as he beheld her daughter with a 
 passion such as he had been unused to overcome, 
 he indulged it with the probable hope, that on the 
 death of the mother, Lord Elmwood would receive 
 his child, and perhaps accept him as his son-in-law. 
 Wedlock was not the plan which Lord Margrave 
 had ever proposed to himself for happiness; but the 
 excess of his love, on this new occasion, subdued all 
 the resolutions he had formed against the married 
 state ; and not daring to hope for the consummation 
 of his wishes by any other means, he suffered him- 
 self to look forward to marriage, as his only resource. 
 No sooner was the long-expected death of Lady 
 Elmwood arrived, than he waited with impatience 
 to hear that Lady Matilda was sent for and ac- 
 knowledged by her father ; for he meant to be the 
 first to lay before Lord Elmwood his pretensions as 
 a suitor. But those pretensions were founded on 
 the vague hopes of a lover only ; and M iss Woodley, 
 to whom he first declared them, said every thing 
 possible to convince him of their fallacy. As to the 
 object of his passion, she was not only insensible 
 but wholly inattentive to all that was said to her on 
 the subject : Lady Elmwood died without ever 
 being disturbed with it ; for her daughter did not 
 even remember his proposals so as to repeat them 
 again, and Miss Woodley thought it prudent to cou- 
 ceal from her friend every new incident which 
 might give her cause for new anxieties. 
 
 Wheu Sandford and the ladies left the North and 
 came to Elmwood House, so much were their thoughts 
 employed with other affairs, that Lord Margrave
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 250 
 
 did not occupy a place ; and (luring the whole time 
 they had heen at their new abode, they had never 
 once heard of him. He had, nevertheless, his whole 
 mind fixed upon Lady Matilda, and had placed 
 spies in the neighbourhood to inform him of every 
 circumstance relating to her situation. Having im- 
 bibed an aversion to matrimony, he heard with but 
 little regret that there was no prospect of her ever 
 becoming her father's heir, while such an informa- 
 tion gave him the hope of obtaining her upon the 
 terms of a mercenary companion. 
 
 Lord Elmwood's departure to town forwarded this 
 hope ; and, flattering himself that the humiliating 
 state in which Matilda must feel herself in the house 
 of her father might gladly induce her to take shel- 
 ter under any other protection, he boldly advanced 
 as soon as the earl was gone, to make such overture 
 as his wishes and his vanity told him could not be 
 rejected. 
 
 Inquiring for Miss Woodley, he easily gained ad- 
 mittance ; but at the sight of so much modesty and 
 dignity in the person of Matilda, the appearance of 
 so much good will, and yet such circumspection in 
 her female friend, and charmed at the good sense 
 and proper spirit which were always apparent in 
 Sandford, he fell once more into the dread of never 
 becoming to Lady Matilda any thing of more im- 
 portance to his reputation than a husband. 
 
 Even that humble hope was sometimes denied him, 
 while Sandford set forth the impropriety of troubling 
 Lord Elmwood on such a subject at present ; and 
 while the viscount's penetration, small as it was, 
 discovered in his fair one more to discourage than 
 to favour his wishes. Plunged, however, too deep 
 in his passion to emerge from it in haste, he meant 
 still to visit, and to wait for a change to happier cir-
 
 260 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 cumstances, when he was peremptorily desired by 
 Mr. Sandford to desist from ever coming again,- 
 
 " And why, Mr. Sandford?" cried he. 
 
 " For two reasons, my lord. In the first place, 
 your visits might be displeasing to Lord Elmwood : 
 in the next place, I know they are so to his daugh- 
 ter." 
 
 Unaccustomed to be addressed so plainlv, par- 
 ticularly in a case where his heart was interested, he 
 nevertheless submitted with patience; but, in his 
 own mind, determined how long this patience should 
 continue no longer than it served as the means to 
 prove his obedience, and by that artifice to secure 
 his better reception at some future period. 
 
 On his return home, cheered with the huzzas of 
 his jovial companions, he began to consult those 
 friends what scheme was best to be adopted for the 
 accomplishment of his desires. Some boldly ad- 
 vised application to the father in defiance to the old 
 priest; but that was the very last method his lordship 
 himself approved, as marriage must inevitably have 
 followed Lord Elmwood's consent : besides, though 
 a peer, Lord Margrave was unused to rank with 
 peers ; and even the formality of an interview with 
 one of his equals carried along with it a terror, or 
 at least a fatigue, to a rustic lord. Others of his 
 companions advised seduction ; but happily the vis- 
 count possessed no arts of this kind to affect a heart 
 joined with such an understanding as Matilda's 
 There were not wanting among his most favourite 
 counsellors some who painted the superior triumph 
 and gratification of force. Those assured him there 
 was nothing to apprehend under this head ; as, from 
 the behaviour of Lord Elmwood to his child, it was 
 more than probable he would be utterly indifferent as 
 to any violence that might be offered her. This last
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 261 
 
 advice seemed inspired by the aid of wine ; and no 
 sooner had the wine freely circulated than this was 
 always the expedient, which appeared by far the 
 best. 
 
 While Lord Margrave alternately cherished his 
 hopes and his fears in the country, Rushbrook in 
 town gave way to his fears only. Every day of his 
 life made him more acquainted with the firm, un- 
 shaken temper of Lord Elmwood, and every day 
 whispered more forcibly to him, that pity, gratitude, 
 and friendship, strong and affectionate as these pas- 
 sions are, were weak and cold to that which had 
 gained the possession of his heart: he doubted, but 
 he did not long doubt, that which he felt was love. 
 " And yet," said he to himself, " it is love of 
 such a kind as, arising from causes independent of 
 the object itself, can scarcely deserve that sacred 
 name. Did I not love Lady Matilda before I beheld 
 her? For her mother's sake I loved her and even 
 for her father's. Should I have felt the same af- 
 fection for her had she been the child of other 
 parents ? No. Or should I have felt that sympa- 
 thetic tenderness which now preys upon my health, 
 had not her misfortunes excited if? No." Yet the 
 love which is the result of gratitude and pity only, 
 he thought had little claim to rank with his : and, 
 after the most deliberate and deep reflection, he 
 concluded with this decisive opinion He should 
 have loved Lady Matilda in whatever state, in what- 
 ever circumstances ; and that the tenderness he felt 
 towards her, and the anxiety for her happiness before 
 he knew her, extreme as they were, were yet cool 
 and dispassionate sensations, compared to those 
 which her person and demeanour had incited : and 
 though he acknowledged, that by the preceding sen- 
 timents, his heart was softened, prepared, and mould- 
 ed, as it were, to receive this last impression ; yet
 
 262 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 the violence of his passion told him that genuine 
 love, if not the basis on which it was founded, had 
 been the certain consequence. With a strict scru- 
 tiny into his heart he sought this knowledge, but 
 arrived at it with a regret that amounted to despair. 
 
 To shield him from despondency, he formed in 
 his mind a thousand visions, displaying the joys of 
 his union with Lady Matilda ; but her father's im- 
 placability confounded them all. Lord Elmwood 
 was a man who made few resolutions ; but those 
 were the effect of deliberation : and as he was not 
 the least capricious or inconstant in his temper, they 
 were resolutions which no probable event could 
 shake. Love, which produces wonders, which se- 
 duces and subdues the most determined and rigid 
 spirits, had in two instances overcome the inflexi- 
 bility of Lord Elmwood : he married Lady Elmwood 
 contrary to his determination, because he loved ; 
 and for the sake of this beloved object, he had, con- 
 trary to his resolution, taken under his immediate 
 care young Rushbrook; but the magic which once 
 enchanted away this spirit of immutability was no 
 more Lady Elmwood was no more, and the charm 
 was broken. 
 
 As MissWoodley was deprived of the opportunity 
 of desiring Rushbrook not to write, when he asked 
 her the permission, he passed one whole morning 
 in the gratification of forming and writing a letter 
 to ber, which he thought might possibly be shown to 
 Matilda. As he dared not touch upon any of those 
 circumstances in which he was the most interested, 
 this, joined to the respect he wished to pay the lady 
 to whom he wrote, limited his letter to about twenty 
 lines ; yet the studious manner with which these 
 lines were dictated, the hope that they might, and 
 the fear that they might not, be seen and regarded 
 bv Ladv Matilda, rendered the task an anxiety so
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 263 
 
 pleasing, that be could have wished it might have 
 lasted for a year ; and in this tendency to magnify 
 trifles was discoverable the never-failing symptom 
 of ardent love. 
 
 A reply to this formal address was a reward he 
 wished for with impatience, but he wished in vain ; 
 and in the midst of his chagrin at the disappoint- 
 ment, a sorrow little thought of occurred, and gave 
 him a perturbation of mind he had never before ex- 
 perienced. Lord Elmwood proposed a wife to him, 
 and in a way so assured of his acquiescence, that if 
 Rushbrook's life had depended upon his daring to 
 dispute his benefactor's will, he would not have had 
 the courage to have done so. There was, however, 
 in his reply and his embarrassment something which 
 his uncle distinguished from a free concurrence ; 
 and, looking stedfastly at him, he said in that stern 
 manner which he now almost invariably assumed, 
 
 " You have no engagements, I suppose ; have 
 made no previous promises?" 
 
 " None on earth, my lord," replied Rushbrook 
 candidly. 
 
 " Nor have you disposed of your heart ?" 
 
 " No, my lord," replied he ; but not candidly, 
 nor with any appearance of candour : for though he 
 spoke hastily, it was rather like a man frightened 
 than assured. He hurried to tell the falsehood he 
 thought himself obliged to tell, that the pain and 
 shame might be over: but there he was deceived; 
 the lie once told was more troublesome than in the 
 conception, and added another confusion to the first. 
 
 Lord Elmwood now fixed his eyes upon him with 
 a sullen scorn, and, rising from his chair, said, 
 " Rushbrook, if you have been so inconsiderate as 
 to give away your heart, tell me so at once, and 
 tell me the object."
 
 '264 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 Rushbrook shuddered at the thought. 
 
 " I here," continued the earl, " tolerate the first 
 untruth you ever told me, as the false assertion of a 
 lover; and give you an opportunity of recalling it: 
 but after this moment it is a lie between man and 
 man a lie to your friend and father, and I will not 
 forgive it." 
 
 Rushbrook stood silent, confused, alarmed, and 
 bewildered in his thoughts. Lord Elm wood pro- 
 ceeded : 
 
 " Name the person, if there is any, on whom you 
 have bestowed your heart; and though I do not 
 give you the hope that I shall not censure your folly, 
 I will at least not reproach you for having at first 
 denied it." 
 
 To repeat these words in writing, the reader must 
 condemn the young man that he could hesitate to 
 own he loved, if he was even afraid to name the 
 object of his passion ; but his interrogator had made 
 the two answers inseparable, so that all evasions of 
 the second, Rushbrook knew, would be fruitless, 
 after having avowed the first; and how could he 
 confess the latter ? The absolute orders he received 
 from the steward on his first return from his travels, 
 were, " never to mention his daughter, any more 
 than his late wife, before Lord Elmwood." The 
 fault of having rudely intruded into Lady Matilda's 
 presence rushed also upon his mind; for he did not 
 even dare to say by what means he had beheld her. 
 But, more than all, the threatening manner in which 
 this rational and apparently conciliating speech 
 was uttered, the menaces, the severity which sat 
 upon the earl's countenance while he delivered those 
 moderate words, might have intimidated a man 
 wholly independent and less used to fear him than 
 his nephew had been.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 265 
 
 " You make no answer, sir," said Lord Elmwood, 
 after waiting a few moments for his reply. 
 
 " I have only to say, my lord," returned Rush- 
 hrook, " that although my heart may be totally 
 disengaged, I may yet be disinclined to marriage." 
 
 " May ! may ! Your heart may be disengaged !" 
 repeated he. " Do you dare to reply to me equi- 
 vocally, when I have asked a positive answer?" 
 
 " Perhaps I am not positive myself, my lord ; 
 but I will inquire into the state of my mind, and 
 make you acquainted with it very soon." 
 
 As the angry demeanour of his uncle affected 
 Rushbrook with fear, so that fear, powerfully (but 
 with proper manliness) expressed, again softened 
 the displeasure of Lord Elmwood ; and, seeing and 
 pitying his nephew's sensibility, he now changed his 
 austere voice, and said mildly, but firmly, 
 
 " I give you a week to consult with yourself: at 
 the expiration of that time I shall talk with you 
 again ; and I command you to be then prepared to 
 speak, not only without deceit, but without hesita- 
 tion." He left the room at these words, and left 
 Rushbrook released from a fate which his appre- 
 hensions had beheld impending that moment. 
 
 He had now a week to call his thoughts together, 
 to weigh every circumstance, and to determine 
 whether implicitly to submit to Lord Elmwood's 
 recommendation of a wife, or to revolt from it ; and 
 see another, with more subserviency to his will, ap- 
 pointed his heir. 
 
 Undetermined how to act upon this trial which 
 was to decide his future destiny, Rushbrook suffered 
 so poignant an uncertainty, that he became at length 
 ill ; and before the end of the week that was allotted 
 him for his reply, he was confined to his bed in a 
 high fever. Lord Elmwood was extremely affected 
 at his indisposition : he gave him every care he 
 
 vol. xxvm. 2 A
 
 26G A SIMPLE STORY, 
 
 could bestow, and even much of his personal attend- 
 ance. This last favour had a claim upon the young 
 man's gratitude, superior to every other obligation 
 which since his infancy his benefactor had conferred ; 
 and he was at times so moved by those marks of 
 kindness he received, that he would form the inten- 
 tion of tearing from his heart every trace that Lady 
 Matilda had left there, and, as soon as his health 
 would permit him, obey to the utmost of his views, 
 every wish his uncle had conceived. Yet again, her 
 pitiable situation presented itself to his compassion, 
 and her beauteous person to his love. Divided be- 
 tween the claims of obligation to the father, and 
 tender attachment to the daughter, his illness .was 
 increased by the tortures of his mind, and he once 
 sincerely wished for that death of which he was in 
 danger, to free him from the dilemma in which his 
 affections had involved him. 
 
 At the time his disorder was at the height, and 
 he lay complaining of the violence of his fever, Lord 
 Elmwood, taking his hand, asked him " if there was 
 any thing he could do for him." 
 
 " Yes, yes, my lord, a great deal," he replied 
 eagerly. 
 
 " What is it, Harry?" 
 
 " Oh ! my lord," replied he, " that is what I must 
 not tell you." 
 
 " Defer it, then, till you are well," said Lord 
 Elmwood, afraid of being surprised or affected by 
 the state of his health, into any promises which he 
 might hereafter find the impropriety of granting. 
 
 " And when I recover, my lord, you give me 
 leave to reveal to you my wishes, let them be what 
 they will V 
 
 His uncle hesitated ; but seeing an anxiety for 
 the answer, by his raising himself upon his elbow in 
 the bed and staring wildly, Lord Elmwood at last
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 267 
 
 said, " Certainly yes, yes," as a child is answered 
 for its quiet. 
 
 That Lord Elmwood could have no suspicion 
 what the real petition was which Rushbrook meant 
 to present him, is certain ; but it is certain he ex- 
 pected he had some request to make with which it 
 might be wrong for him to comply, and therefore 
 he now avoided hearing what it was : for great as 
 his compassion for him was in his present state, it 
 was not of sufficient force to urge him to give a pro- 
 mise he did not mean to perform. Rushbrook, on 
 his part, was pleased with the assurance he might 
 speak when he was restored to health ; but no sooner 
 was his fever abated, and his senses perfectly re- 
 covered from the slight derangement his malady 
 had occasioned, than the lively remembrance of what 
 he had hinted alarmed him, and he was abashed 
 to look his kind but awful relation in the face. 
 Lord Elmwood's cheerfulness, however, on his re- 
 turning health, and his undiminished attention, soon 
 convinced him that he had nothing to fear. But, 
 alas ! he found, too, that he had nothing to hope. 
 As his health re-established, his wishes re-esta- 
 blished also, and with his wishes his despair. 
 
 Convinced by what had passed, that his nephew 
 had something on his mind which he feared to re- 
 veal, the earl no longer doubted but that some 
 youthful attachment had armed him against any 
 marriage he should propose; but he had so much 
 pity for his present weak state, as to delay that 
 further inquiry, which he had threatened before his 
 illness, to a time when his health should be entirely 
 restored. 
 
 It was the end of May before Rushbrook was 
 
 able to partake in the usual routine of the day. 
 
 The country was now prescribed him as the means 
 
 of complete restoration ; and as Lord Elmwood 
 
 2 A 2
 
 268 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 designed to leave London some time in June, he 
 advised him to go to Elmwood House a week or two 
 before him. This advice was received with delight, 
 and a letter was sent to Mr. Sandford to prepare for 
 Mr. Rushbrook's arrival. 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 During the illness of Rushbrook, news had been 
 sent of his danger, from the servants in town to those 
 at Elmwood House, and Lady Matilda expressed 
 compassion when she was told of it. She began to 
 conceive, the instant she thought he would soon die, 
 that his visit to her had merit rather than imperti- 
 nence in its design, and that he might possibly be a 
 more deserving man than she had supposed him to 
 be. Even Sandford and Miss Woodley began to 
 recollect qualifications he possessed, which they 
 never had reflected on before ; and Miss Woodley, 
 in particular, reproached herself that she had been 
 so severe and inattentive to him. Notwithstanding 
 the prospects his death pointed out to her, it was 
 with infinite joy she heard he was recovered ; nor 
 was Sandford less satisfied ; for he had treated the 
 young man too unkindly not to dread lest any ill 
 should befal him. But although he was glad to 
 hear of his restored health, when he was informed 
 he was coming down to Elmwood House for a few 
 weeks in the style of its master, Sandford, with all 
 his religious and humane principles, could not help 
 conceiving, that " if the youth had been properly 
 prepared to die, he had been as well out of the world 
 as in it." 
 
 He was still less his friend when he saw him ar- 
 rive with his usual florid complexion. Had he come
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 26JJ 
 
 pale and sickly, Sand ford had been kind to him ; but, 
 in apparently good health and spirits, he could not 
 form his lips to tell him he was " glad to see him." 
 
 On his arrival, Matilda, who for rive months had 
 been at large, secluded herself as she would have 
 done upon the arrival of Lord Elmwood ; but with 
 far different sensations. Notwithstanding her re- 
 striction on the latter occasion, the residence of her 
 father in that house had been a source of pleasure, 
 rather than of sorrow to her ; but from the abode 
 of Rushbrook she derived punishment alone. 
 
 When, from inquiries, Rushbrook found that on 
 his approach, Matilda had retired to her own con- 
 fined apartments, the thought was torture to him : 
 it was the hope of seeing and conversing with her, 
 of being admitted at all times to her society as the 
 mistress of the house, that had raised his spirits,, 
 and effected his perfect cure beyond any other 
 cause; and he was hurt to the greatest degree at 
 this respect, or rather contempt, shown to him by 
 her retreat. 
 
 It was, nevertheless, a subject too delicate for 
 him to touch upon in any one sense : an invitation 
 for her company, on his part, might carry the ap- 
 pearance of superior authority, and an affected con- 
 descension, which he justly considered as the worst 
 of all insults. And yet, how could he support the 
 reflection that his visit had placed the daughter of 
 his benefactor as a dependent stranger in that house, 
 where in reality he was the dependent, and she the 
 lawful heiress. For two or three days he suffered 
 the torment of these meditations, koping that he 
 should come to an explanation of all he felt, by a 
 fortunate meeting with Miss Woodley ; but when 
 that meeting occurred, though he observed she 
 talked to him with less reserve than she had formerly 
 done, and even gave some proofs of the native kind- 
 2 A 3
 
 270 A SIMPLE STOKY. 
 
 ness of her disposition, yet she scrupulously avoided 
 naming Lady Matilda; and when he diffidently 
 inquired of her health, a cold restraint overspread 
 Miss Woodley's face, and she left him instantly. 
 To Sandford it was still more difficult for him to 
 apply ; for though frequently together, they were 
 never sociable : and as Sandford seldom disguised 
 his feelings, to Rushbrook he was always severe 
 and sometimes unmannerly. 
 
 In this perplexed situation, the country air was 
 rather pf detriment than service to the late invalid ; 
 and had he not, like a true lover, clung fast to fancied 
 hope, while he could perceive no reality but despair, 
 he would have returned to town, rather than by his 
 stay have placed in a subordinate state the object 
 of his adoration. Persisting in his hopes, he one 
 morning met Miss Woodley in the garden, and, en- 
 gaging her a longer time than usual in conversation, 
 at last obtained her promise " She would that day 
 dine with him and Mr. Sandford." But no sooner 
 had she parted from him, than she repented of her 
 consent ; and upon communicating it, Matilda, for 
 the first time in her life, darted upon her kind com- 
 panion, a look of the most cutting reproach and 
 haughty resentment. Miss Woodley's own sen- 
 timents had upbraided her before ; but she was not 
 prepared to receive so pointed a mark of disappro- 
 bation from her young friend, till now, duteous and 
 humble to her as to a mother, and not less affec- 
 tionate. Her heart was too susceptible to bear this 
 disrespectful and contumelious frown, from the ob- 
 ject of her long-devoted care and concern ; the 
 tears instantly covered her face, and she laid her 
 hands upon her heart, as if she thought it would 
 break. Matilda was moved ; but she possessed too 
 much of the manly indignation of her father, to 
 discover what she felt for the first few minutes.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 271 
 
 Miss Woodley, who had given so many tears to her 
 sorrows, but never, till now, one to her anger, had a 
 deeper sense of this indifference than of the anger 
 itself, and, to conceal whatshe suffered, left the room. 
 Matilda, who had been till this time working at 
 her needle, seemingly composed, now let her work 
 drop from her hand, and sat for a while in a deep 
 reverie. At length she rose up, and followed Miss 
 Woodley to the other apartment. She entered 
 grave, majestic, and apparently serene, while her 
 poor heart fluttered with a thousand distressing 
 sensations. She approached Miss Woodley (who 
 was still in tears) with silence : and, awed by her 
 manners, the faithful friend of her deceased mother 
 exclaimed, " Dear Lady Matilda, think no more on 
 what 1 have done ; do not resent it any longer, and 
 I'll beg your pardon." Miss Woodley rose as she 
 uttered these last words ; but Matilda laid fast hold 
 of her to prevent the posture she offered to take, 
 and instantly assumed it herself: " Oh, let this be 
 my atonement!" she cried with the most earnest 
 supplication. 
 
 They interchanged forgiveness ; and as this re- 
 conciliation was sincere, they each, without reserve, 
 gave their opinion upon the subject that had caused 
 the misunderstanding ; and it was agreed an apology 
 should be sent to Mr. Rushbrook, " That Miss 
 Woodley had been suddenly indisposed :" nor could 
 this be said to differ from the truth, for since what 
 had passed she was unfit to pay a visit. 
 
 Rushbrook, who had been all the morning elated 
 with the advance he supposed he had made in that 
 lady's favour, was highly disappointed, vexed, and 
 angry, when this apology was delivered ; nor did he, 
 nor perhaps could he, conceal what he felt, although 
 his unkind observer, Mr. Sarfdford, was present.
 
 272 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " T am a very unfortunate man !" said he, as soon 
 as the servant was gone who. brought the message. 
 
 Sandford cast his eyes upon him with a look of 
 surprise and contempt. 
 
 " A very unfortunate man indeed, Mr. Sandford," 
 repeated he, " although you treat my complaint 
 contemptuously." 
 
 Sandford made no reply, and seemed above mak- 
 ing one. 
 
 They sat down to dinner. Rushbrook ate scarcely 
 any thing, but drank frequently : Sandford took no 
 notice of either, but had a book (which was his 
 custom when he dined with persons whose conver- 
 sation was not interesting to him,) laid by the side 
 of his plate, which he occasionally looked into, as 
 the dishes were removing, or other opportunities 
 served. 
 
 Rushbrook, just now more hopeless than ever of 
 forming an acquaintance with Lady Matilda, began 
 to give way to symptoms of impatience ; and they 
 made their first attack, by urging him, to treat on 
 the same level of familiarity that he himself was 
 treated, Mr. Sandford, to whom he had, till now, 
 ever behaved with the most profound tokens of 
 respect. 
 
 " Come," said he to him, as soon as the dinner 
 was removed, " lay aside your book and be good 
 company." 
 
 Sandford lifted up his eyes upon him stared in 
 his face and cast them on the book again. 
 
 " Pshaw," continued Rushbrook, " 1 want a com- 
 panion ; and as Miss Woodley has disappointed me, 
 I must have your company." 
 
 Sandford now laid his book down upon the table ; 
 but, still holding his fingers in the pages he was 
 reading, said, " And why are you disappointed of
 
 A SIMPLE STORY 373 
 
 Miss Woodley's company?. When people expect 
 what they have no right to hope, 'tis impertinent 
 assurance to complain they are disappointed." 
 
 " I had a right to hope she would come," an- 
 swered Rushbrook, " for she promised she would." 
 
 " But what right had you to ask her ?" 
 
 " The right every one has to make his time pass 
 as agreeably as he can." 
 
 " But not at the expence of another." 
 
 " I believe, Mr. Sandford, it would be a heavy 
 expence to you, to see me happy : I believe it would 
 cost you even your own happiness." 
 
 " That is a price I have not now to give," replied 
 Sandford, and began reading again. 
 
 " What, you have already paid it away 1 No won- 
 der that at your time of life it should be gone. 
 But what do you think of my having already squan- 
 dered mine ? " 
 
 " I don't think about you," returned Sandford, 
 without taking his eyes from the book. 
 
 " Can you look me in the face and say that, Mr. 
 Sandford 1 No, you cannot ; for you know you do 
 think of me, and you know you hate me." Here 
 he drank two glasses of wine, one after another. 
 " And I can tell you why you hate me," continued 
 he : "it is from a cause for which I often hate 
 myself." 
 
 Sandford read on. 
 
 "It is on Lady Matilda's account you hate me, 
 and use me thus." 
 
 Sandford put down the book hastily, and put both 
 his hands by his side. 
 
 " 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."
 
 274 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " At my peril ! Mr. Sandford ? Do you assume 
 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 sensa- 
 tions 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 which 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 Elm- 
 wood to be reconciled to see and own her." 
 
 " Your vanity would be equal to your temerity 
 you entreat ? She must greatly esteem those pa- 
 ternal 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
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 275 
 
 Lady Matilda, arises, from what I feel on that very 
 account." 
 
 " Remove your anxiety, then, from her to your- 
 self; for were I to let Lord Elmwood know what 
 has now passed" 
 
 " It is for vour own sake, not for mine, if you do 
 uot." 
 
 " You shall not dare me to it, Mr. Rushbrook." 
 And he rose from his seat. " You shall uot dare 
 me to do you an injury. But to avoid the tempta- 
 tion, 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 thau Sand- 
 ford. " 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 compassion, 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 circum- 
 stance." 
 
 " 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 
 passed this day : it has taken a weight off my mind. 
 I thought my disinclination to you might per- 
 haps 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.
 
 276 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 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 pru- 
 dence 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 par- 
 don : but the contempt with which he had been 
 treated, more than all the anger, withheld 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 inquiring 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 XLII. 
 
 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
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 277 
 
 Sandford gave his company to the ladies. Rush- 
 brook 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 accom- 
 panied 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 pass so near to 
 Matilda, could he have known what conduct would 
 have been deemed the most respectful, to that he 
 would have submitted, whatever painful denial it had 
 cost him. 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 diffi- 
 dence not affected, but most powerfully felt, pulled 
 oft* his hat; and, without bowing, stood respectfully 
 silent while the company passed. 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. 
 Rush brook, 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, or 
 wait, for another syllable. 
 
 VOL. xxviii. 2 B
 
 278 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 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; hut 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 re- 
 plying, 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 pre- 
 vented 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 cer- 
 tainly 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 
 circumstance of their quarrel.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 279 
 
 " 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 delight at 
 that voluntary mark of civility he had received from 
 Lady Matilda, felt his heart so joyous, and so free 
 from even - particle of malice, that he resolved, in 
 the humblest manner, to make atonement for the 
 violation of decorum he had lately committed against 
 Mr. Sand ford. 
 
 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 re- 
 turned home, to beg to know " if he might be per- 
 mitted 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 Rush- 
 brook 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 passed 
 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. 
 
 All her former agitations now returned. On the 
 
 day he arrived she wept ; all the night she did not 
 
 sleep ; and the name of Rushbrook again became 
 
 hateful to her. The earl came in extremely good 
 
 2 B 2
 
 280 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 health and spirits, but appeared concerned to find 
 Rushbrook less well than when he went from town. 
 Sandford was now under the necessity of being in 
 Rushbrook's company ; yet he would never speak to 
 him but when he was absolutely compelled, or look 
 at him but when he could not help it. Lord Elm- 
 wood observed this conduct, yet he neither won- 
 dered nor was offended by it. He had perceived 
 what little esteem Sandford had showed his nephew 
 from his first return : but he forgave, in Sandford's 
 humour, a thousand faults he would not forgive in 
 any other ; nor did he deem this one of his greatest 
 faults, knowing the demand upon his partiality from 
 another object. 
 
 Miss Woodley waited on Lord Elmwood as for- 
 merly ; dined with him, and related, as heretofore, 
 to the attentive Matilda, all that passed. 
 
 About this time Lord Margrave, deprived by the 
 season of all the sports of the field, felt his love for 
 Matilda (which had been violent, even though di- 
 vided with the love of hunting,) now too strong to 
 be subdued ; and he resolved, though reluctantly, 
 to apply to her father for his consent to their union ; 
 but writing to Sandford this resolution, he was 
 once more repulsed, and charged, as a man of ho- 
 nour, to forbear to disturb the tranquillity of the 
 family by any application of the kind. To this, 
 Sandford received no answer ; for the peer, highly 
 incensed at his mistress's repugnance to him, de- 
 termined more firmly than ever to consult his own 
 happiness alone ; and as that depended merely upon 
 his obtaining her, he cared not by what method it 
 was effected. 
 
 About a fortnight after Lord Elmwood came into 
 the country, as he was riding one morning, his horse 
 fell with him, and crushed his leg in so unfortunate 
 a manner as to be at first pronounced of dangerous
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 28L 
 
 consequence. He was brought home in a post- 
 cliaise, and Matilda heard of the accident with more 
 grief than would, perhaps, on such an occasion, 
 have appertained to the most fondled child. 
 
 In consequence of the pain he suffered, his fever 
 was one night very high ; and Sandford, who seldom 
 quitted his apartment, went frequently to his bed- 
 side, every time with the secret hope he should hear 
 him ask to see his daughter: he was every time 
 disappointed ; yet he saw him shake, with a cordial 
 friendship, the hand of Rushbrook, as if he delighted 
 in seeiug those he loved. 
 
 The danger in which Lord Elmwood was sup- 
 posed to be was but of short duration, and his sud- 
 den recovery succeeded. 'Matilda, who had wept, 
 moaned, and watched during the crisis of his illness, 
 when she heard he was amending, exclaimed, (with 
 a kind of surprise at the novelty of the sensation), 
 " And this is joy that I feel ! Oh ! I never till 
 now knew what those persons felt who experienced 
 
 joy." 
 
 Nor did she repine, like Mr. Sandford and Miss 
 Woodley, at her father's inattention to her during 
 his malady ; for she did not hope like them she did 
 not hope he would behold her, even in dying. 
 
 But, notwithstanding his seeming indifference, 
 while his indisposition continued, no sooner was he 
 recovered so as to receive the congratulations of 
 his friends, than there was no one person he evi- 
 dently showed so much satisfaction at seeing as 
 Miss Woodley. She waited upon him timorously, 
 and with more than ordinary distaste at his late 
 conduct, when he put out his hand with the utmost 
 warmth to receive her, drew her to him, saluted 
 her (an honour he had never in his life conferred 
 before), and with signs of the sincerest friendship 
 and affection. Sandford was present; and, ever 
 2 R 3
 
 282 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 associating the idea of Matilda with Miss Woodley, 
 felt his heart bound with a triumph it had not enjoyed 
 for many a day. 
 
 Matilda listened with delight to the recital Miss 
 Woodley gave on her return, and, many times while 
 it lasted, exclaimed, " She was happy." But poor 
 Matilda's sudden transports of joy, which she 
 termed happiness, were not made for long con- 
 tinuance: and if she ever found cause for gladness, 
 she far oftener had motives for grief. 
 
 As Mr. Sandford was sitting with her and Miss 
 Woodley one evening, about a week after, a person 
 rang at the bell and inquired for him. On being- 
 told of it by the servant, he went to the door of the 
 apartment, and cried, " Oh ! is it you? Come in." 
 An elderly man entered, who had been for many 
 years the head gardener at Elmwood House a man 
 of honesty and sobriety, and with an indigent family 
 of aged parents, children, and other relations, who 
 subsisted wholly on the income arising from his 
 place. The ladies, as well as Sandford, knew him 
 well : and they all, almost at once, asked, " what 
 was the matter ; " for his looks told them something 
 distressful had befallen him. 
 
 " Oh, sir ! " said he to Sandford, " I come to en- 
 treat your interest." 
 
 " In what, Edwards ?" said Sandford with a mild 
 voice : for, when his assistance was supplicated in 
 distress, his rough tones always took a plaintive 
 key. 
 
 " My lord has discharged me from his service ! " 
 returned Edwards, trembling, and the tears start- 
 ing in his eyes : " I am undone, Mr. Sandford, unless 
 you plead for me." 
 
 " I will," said Sandford, " I will." 
 
 '" And yet 1 am almost afraid of your success," 
 replied the man; " for my lord has ordered me out
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 283 
 
 of his house this moment; and though I knelt down 
 to him to be heard, he had no pity." 
 
 Matilda sighed from the bottom of her heart, and 
 yet she envied this poor man, who had been kneeling 
 to her father. 
 
 " What was your offence ?" eried Sandford. 
 
 The man hesitated ; then, looking at Matilda, 
 said, " I'll tell you, sir, some other time." ' 
 
 " Did you name me, before Lord Elmwood ? " 
 cried she, eagerly, and terrified. 
 
 " No, madam," replied he, " but I unthinkingly 
 spoke of my poor lady who is dead and gone." 
 
 Matilda burst into tears. 
 
 " How came you to do so mad a thing?" cried 
 Sandford ; and the encouragement which his looks 
 had once given him now fled from his face. 
 
 " It was unthinkingly," repeated Edwards : " 1 
 was showing my lord some plans for the new walks, 
 and told him, among other things, that her ladyship 
 had many years ago approved of them. ' Who ? ' 
 cried he. Still I did not call to mind, but said, 
 ' Lady Elmwood, sir, while you were abroad' 
 As soon as these words were delivered, I saw my 
 doom in his looks, and he commanded me to quit 
 his house and service that instant." 
 
 " I am afraid," said Sandford, shaking his head, 
 *' I can do nothing for you." 
 
 " Yes, sir, you know you have more power over 
 my lord than any body ; and perhaps you maj be 
 able to save me and all mine from misery." 
 
 " 1 would, if I could," replied Sandford, quickly. 
 
 " You can but try, sir." 
 
 Matilda was all this while bathed in tears ; nor 
 was Miss Woodley much less affected. Lady Elm- 
 wood was before their eyes ; Matilda beheld her in 
 her dying moments ; Miss Woodley saw her as the 
 gay ward of Dorriforth.
 
 284 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " Ask Mr. Rushbrook," said Sandford : " pre- 
 vail on him to speak for you : he has more power 
 than I have." 
 
 " He has not enough, then," replied Edwards ; 
 " for he was in the room with my lord when what I 
 have told you happened." 
 
 " And did he say nothing? " asked Sandford. 
 
 " Yes, sir ; he offered to speak in my behalf, but 
 my lord interrupted him, and ordered him out of the 
 room : he instantly went." 
 
 Sandford, now observing the effect which this 
 narration had on the two ladies, led the man to his 
 own apartments, and there assured him he dared not 
 undertake his cause ; but that if time or chance 
 should happily make an alteration in his lord's dis- 
 position, he would be the first who would endeavour 
 to replace him. Edwards was obliged to submit ; 
 and before the next day at noon, his pleasant house 
 by the side of the park, his garden, and his orchard, 
 which he had occupied above twenty years, were 
 cleared of their old inhabitant, and all his wretched 
 family. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 This melancholy incident, perhaps affected Matilda, 
 and all the friends of the deceased Lady Elmwood, 
 beyond any other that had occurred since her death. 
 A few days after this circumstance, Miss Woodley, 
 in order to divert the disconsolate mind of Lady Ma- 
 tilda, (and in the hope of bringing her some little 
 anecdotes, to console her for that which had given 
 her so much pain,) waited upon Lord Elmwood in his 
 library, and borrowed some books out of it. He 
 was now perfectly well from his fall, and received
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 25 
 
 her with his usual politeness, hut, of course, not with 
 that peculiar warmth which he had discovered when 
 he received her just after his illness. Rushbrook 
 was in the library at the same time : he shewed her 
 several beautiful prints which Lord Elmwood had 
 just received from London, and appeared anxious to 
 entertain and give tokens of his esteem and respect 
 for her. But what gave her pleasure beyond any 
 other attention, was, that after she had taken (by 
 the aid of Rushbrook) about a dozen volumes from 
 different shelves, and had laid them together, saying 
 she would send her servant to fetch them, Lord 
 Elmwood went carefully to the place where they 
 were, and, taking up each book, examined minutely 
 what it was. One author he complained was too 
 light, another too depressing, and put them on the 
 shelves again ; another was erroneous, and he 
 changed it for a better. Thus, he warned her 
 against some, and selected other authors, as the 
 most cautious preceptor culls for his pupil, or a 
 fond father for his darling child. She thanked 
 him for his attention to her, but her heart thanked 
 him for his attention to his daughter : for as she 
 had herself never received such a proof of his care 
 since all their long acquaintance, she reasonably 
 supposed, that Matilda's reading, and not hers, was 
 the object of his solicitude. 
 
 Having in these books store of comfort for poor 
 Matilda, she eagerly returned with them ; and in re- 
 citing every particular circumstance, made her consi- 
 der the volumes, almost like presents from her father. 
 
 The month of September was now arrived ; and 
 Lord Elmwood, accompanied by Rushbrook, went 
 to a small shooting seat, near twenty miles distant 
 from Elmwood Castle, for a week's particular sport. 
 Matilda was once more at large ; and one beautiful
 
 286 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 morning, about eleven o'clock, seeing Miss Woodley 
 walking on the lawn before the house, she hastily 
 took her hat to join her ; and not waiting to put it 
 on, went nimbly down the great staircase with it 
 hanging on her arm. When she had descended a 
 few stairs, she heard a footstep proceeding slowly 
 up ; and (from what emotion she could not tell) 
 she stopped short, half resolved to return back. 
 She hesitated a single instant whether she should or 
 not then went a few steps further till she came to 
 the second landing-place ; when, by the sudden 
 winding of the staircase, Lord Elmwood was imme- 
 diately before her ! 
 
 She had felt something like affright before she saw 
 him ; but her reason told her she had nothing to 
 fear, as he was away. But now, the appearance of 
 a stranger whom she had never before seen ; the 
 authority in his looks, as well as in the sound of his 
 steps ; a resemblance to the portrait she had been 
 shown of him ; a start of astonishment which he gave 
 on beholding her ; but above all, her ftais confirmed 
 her that it was him. She gave a scream of terror ; 
 put out her trembling hands to catch the balustrades 
 for support missed them and fell motionless into 
 her father's arms. 
 
 He caught her, as, by the same impulse, he would 
 have caught any other person falling for want of 
 aid. Yet when he found her in his arms, he still 
 held her there, gazed on her attentively, and once 
 pressed her to his bosom. 
 
 At length trying to escape the snare into which 
 he had been led, he was going to leave her on the 
 spot where she fell, when her eyes opened, and she 
 uttered, "Save me!" Her voice unmanned him. 
 His long-restrained tears now burst forth, and seeing 
 her relapsing into the swoon, he cried out eagerly to
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 287 
 
 recal her. Her name did not, however, come to 
 his recollection nor any name but this : " Miss 
 Milner Dear Miss Milner ! " 
 
 That sound did not awaken her : and now again 
 he wished to leave her in this senseless state, that, 
 not remembering what had passed, she might escape 
 the punishment. 
 
 But at this instant, Giftard, with another servant, 
 passed by the foot of the stairs ; on which, Lord 
 Ehuwood called to them, and into Giffard's hands 
 delivered his apparently dead child, without one 
 command respecting her, or one word of any kind ; 
 while his face was agitated with shame, with pity, 
 with anger, with paternal tenderness. 
 
 As Giftard stood trembling, while he relieved his 
 lord from this hapless burthen, her father had to 
 unloose her hand from the side of his coat, which 
 she had caught fast hold of as she fell, and grasped 
 so closely, it was with difficulty removed. On at- 
 tempting to take the hand away he trembled, fal- 
 tered, then bade Giffard do it. 
 
 " Who? 1, my lord ! I separate you ! " cried he. 
 But recollecting himself, " My lord, I will obey 
 your commands whatever they are." And seizing 
 her hand, pulled it with violence : it fell, and her 
 father went away. 
 
 Matilda was carried to her own apartments, laid 
 upon the bed ; and Miss Woodley hasted to attend 
 her, after listening to the recital of what had passed. 
 
 When Lady Elmwood"s old and affectionate friend 
 entered the room, and saw her youthful charge 
 lying pale and speechless, yet no father by to com- 
 fort or sooth her, she lifted up her hands to Heaven 
 exclaiming, with a burst of tears, " And is this the 
 end of thee, my poor child ? Is this the end of all 
 our hopes of thy own fearful hopes and of thy
 
 288 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 mother's supplications X Oh, Lord Elmwood ! Lord 
 Elmwood ! " 
 
 At that name Matilda started, and cried, 
 "Where is he? Is it a dream, or have I seen 
 him? " 
 
 " 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, rising 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 passed in sympa- 
 thetic grief, in alarm at every sound, lest it should 
 be a messenger to pronounce Matilda's destiny. 
 
 Lord Elmwood did not stay upon this visit above 
 three hours at Elmwood House: he then set oft* 
 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 immediately dispatched to town. 
 
 During his short continuance here, Sandford cau- 
 tiously 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
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 289 
 
 Nature, then, and Providence he left the whole. 
 What these two powerful principles brought about, 
 the reader will be informed, when he peruses the 
 following letter, received early the next morning by 
 Miss Woodlev. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 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, . 1 was to see his then determination (of 
 which he also acquainted me) put in execution. In 
 consequence of Lady Matilda's indisposition, ma- 
 dam, I have ventured to delay this notice till morn- 
 ing. 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 circumstance 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 com- 
 mands not be obeyed-. 
 
 " If there is any thing wanting for the convenience 
 of your and Lady Matilda's departure, you have 
 
 vol. xxvni. 2 c
 
 '290 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 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 assuming. 
 
 " 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, 
 have added, I think, to my age many a year ; and I 
 have not the strength to see you upon this occasion. 
 I loved my 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 con- 
 tents, 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 circumstances ; and she hoped most fervently 
 the terms of the letter might not be harsh, but that 
 Lord Elmwood had delivered his final sentence 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 shn
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 291 
 
 expected something worse ; and one of the last 
 lines, in which Giftard 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 
 shown 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 fortitude of Matilda, which came to 
 her assistance on the first onset of this trial, suffi- 
 cient 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 her 
 sufferings, 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 1 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 my flying to 
 iay 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 from 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." 
 
 2 c 2
 
 292 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 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, " fare- 
 well 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. 
 
 Miss Woodley took her at her word, and hurried 
 her immediately out of the room. 
 
 Sandford followed slow behind, as if he had fol- 
 lowed at her funeral. 
 
 When she came to that spot on the stairs where 
 she had met her father, she started back, and scarce 
 knew how to pass it. When she had " There he 
 held me in his arms," said she : " and I thought I 
 felt him press me to his heart ; but I now find I was 
 mistaken." 
 
 As Sandford came forward to hand her into the 
 coach "Now you behave well," said he: " by this 
 behaviour, you do not entirely close all prospect of 
 reconciliation with your father." 
 
 " Do you think it is not yet impossible ?" cried 
 she, clasping his hand. " Giffard says he loves 
 me," continued she ; " and do you think he might 
 yet be brought to forgive me V 
 
 " Forgive you !" cried Sandford. 
 
 " Suppose I was to write to him, and entreat his 
 forgiveness?"
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 293 
 
 " Do not write yot," said Sand ford, with no 
 cheering accent. 
 
 The carriage drove off : and as it went, Matilda 
 leaned her head from the window, to survey Elmwood 
 House from the roof to the foundation. She cast her 
 eyes upon the gardens, too upon the fish-ponds- 
 even the coach-houses, and all the offices adjoining 
 which, as objects that she should never see again, 
 she contemplated as objects of importance. 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 Rushbrook, who, at twenty miles distance, could 
 have no conjecture what had passed at Elmwood 
 House during the short visit Lord Elmwood made 
 there, went that way with his dogs and gun, in order 
 to meet him on his return, and accompany him in 
 the chaise back. He did so : and getting into the 
 carriage, told him eagerly the sport he had had 
 during the day ; laughed at an accident that had 
 befallen one of his dogs ; and for some time did not 
 perceive but that his uncle was perfectly attentive. 
 At length, observing he answered more negligently 
 than usual to what he said, Rushbrook turned his 
 eyes quickly upon him, and cried, 
 
 " My lord, are you not well V 
 
 " Yes; perfectly well, I thank you, Rushbrook ;" 
 and he leaned back against the carriage. 
 
 " I thought, sir," returned Rushbrook, " you 
 spoke languidly I beg your pardon." 
 
 " I have the head-ache a little," answered he : 
 then taking off his hat, brushed the dust from it ; 
 and, as he put it on again, fetched a most heavy 
 sigh ; which no sooner had escaped him, than, to 
 drown its sound, he said briskly, 
 2C 3
 
 2fi4 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " And so you tell me you have had good sport 
 to-day ?" 
 
 " No, ray lord ; I said but indifferent." 
 
 " True ; so you did. Bid the man drive faster : 
 it will be dark before we get home." 
 
 " You will shoot to-morrow, my lord ?" 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " How does Mr. Sandford do, sir?" 
 
 " I did not see .him." 
 
 " Not see Mr. Sandford, my lord ! But he was 
 out, I suppose ; for they did not expect you at 
 Elmwood House." 
 
 " No, they did not." 
 
 In such conversation Rushbrook and his uncle 
 continued to the end of their journey. Dinner was 
 then immediately served ; and Lord Elmwood ap- 
 peared much in his usual spirits ; at least, not sus- 
 pecting any cause for their abatement, Rushbrook 
 did not observe any alteration. 
 
 Lord Elmwood went, however, earlier to bed than 
 ordinary, or rather to his bed-chamber ; for though 
 he retired some time before his nephew, when Rush- 
 brook passed his chamber-door, it was open, and 
 he not in bed, but sitting in a musing posture, as if 
 he had forgot to shut it. 
 
 When Rushbrook's valet came to attend his mas- 
 ter, he said to him, 
 
 " I suppose, sir, you do not know what has hap- 
 pened at the castle." 
 
 " For Heaven's sake, what?" cried Rushbrook. 
 
 " My lord has met Lady Matilda," replied the 
 man. 
 
 " How? Where? What's the consequence?" 
 
 " We don't know yet, sir : but all the servants 
 suppose her ladyship will not be suffered to remain 
 there any longer." 
 
 " They all suppose wrong," returned Rushbrook,
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 295 
 
 hastily " My lord loves her, I am certain, and this 
 event may be the happy means of his treating her 
 as his child from this day." 
 
 The servant smiled, and shook his head. 
 
 " Why, what more do you know V 
 
 " Nothing more than 1 have told you, sir, except 
 that his lordship took no kind of notice of her lady- 
 ship that appeared like love." 
 
 Rushbrook was all uneasiness and anxiety to know 
 the particulars of what had passed ; and now Lord 
 Elmwood's inquietude, which he had but slightly 
 noticed before, came full to his observation. He 
 was going to ask more questions ; but he recollected 
 that Lady Matilda's misfortunes were too sacred to 
 be talked of thus familiarly by the servants of the 
 family : besides, it was evident this man thought, 
 and but naturally, it might not be for his master's 
 interest the father and the daughter should be 
 united ; and therefore would give to all he said the 
 opposite colouring. 
 
 In spite of his prudence, however, and his delicacy 
 towards Matilda, Rushbrook could not let his valet 
 leave him till he had inquired, and learned all the 
 circumstantial account of what had happened ; ex- 
 cept, indeed, the order received by Giffard, which 
 being given after Lord Elmwood was in his carriage 
 and in concise terms, the domestics who attended 
 him (and from whom this man had gained his in- 
 telligence) were unacquainted with it. 
 
 When the servant had left Rushbrook alone, the 
 perturbation of his mind was so great, that he was 
 at length undetermined whether to go to bed, or to 
 rush into his uncle's apartment, and at his feet beg 
 for that compassion upon his daughter which he 
 feared he had denied her. But then, to what peril 
 would he not expose himself by such a step I Nay, 
 he might, perhaps, even injure her whom he wished
 
 29G A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 to serve ; for if his uncle was at present unresolved 
 whether to forgive or to resent this disobedience to 
 his commands, another's interference might enrage 
 and precipitate him on the latter resolution. 
 
 This consideration was so weighty, it resigned 
 Rushbrook to the suspense he was compelled to 
 endure till the morning, when he flattered himself 
 that by watching every look and motion of Lord 
 Elmwood, his penetration would be able to discover 
 the state of his heart, and how he meant to act. 
 
 But the morning came, and he found all his pry- 
 ing curiosity was of no avail : Lord Elmwood did 
 not drop one word, give one look, or use one action 
 that was not customary. 
 
 On first seeing him, Rushbrook blushed at the 
 secret with which he was entrusted ; then, as he 
 gazed on the earl, contemplated the joy he ought 
 to have known in clasping in his arms a child like 
 Matilda, whose tenderness, reverence, and duty 
 had deprived her of all sensation at his sight; which 
 was, in Rushbrook's mind, an honour that rendered 
 him superior to what he was before. 
 
 They were in the fields all the day as usual : 
 Lord Elmwood now cheerful, and complaining no 
 more of the head-ache. Yet once being separated 
 from his nephew, Rushbrook crossed over a stile 
 into another field, and found him sitting by the side 
 of a bank, his gun lying by him, and himself lost in 
 thought. He rose on seeing him, and proceeded to 
 the sport as before. 
 
 At dinner, he said he should not go to Elmwood 
 House the next day, as he had appointed, but stay 
 where he was three or four days longer. From 
 these two small occurrences, Rushbrook would fain 
 have extracted something by which to judge the 
 state of his mind ; but upon the test that was im 
 possible : he had caught him so musing many a time
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 297 
 
 before ; and as to his prolonging his gtay, that might 
 arise from the 6port : or, indeed, had any thing more 
 material swayed him, who could penetrate whether 
 it was the effect of the lenity, or the severity, he 
 had dealt towards his child ; whether his continu- 
 ance there was to shun her, or to shun the house 
 from whence he had banished her ? 
 
 The three or four days for their temporary abode 
 being passed, they both returned together to Elm- 
 wood House. Rushbrook thought he saw his uncle's 
 countenance change as they entered the avenue; 
 yet he did not appear less in spirits; and when Sand- 
 ford joined them at dinner, the earl went with his 
 usual attention to him, and (as was his custom after 
 any separation) put out his hand cheerfully to take 
 his. Sandford said, " How do you do, my lord?" 
 cheerfully in return ; but put both his hands into his 
 bosom, and walked to the other side of the room. 
 Lord Elm wood did not seem to observe this affront; 
 nor was it done as an affront : it was merely what 
 poor Sandford could not help ; for he felt that he 
 could not shake hands with him. 
 
 Rushbrook soon learned the news that Matilda 
 was gone; and Elmwood House was to him a desert 
 he saw there no real friend of hers, except poor 
 Sandford, and to him Rushbrook knew himself now 
 more displeasing than ever ; and all his overtures of 
 atonement he, at this time, found more and more 
 ineffectual. Matilda was exiled ; and her supposed 
 triumphant rival was, to Sandford, odious beyond 
 what he had ever been. 
 
 In alleviation of their banishment, Miss Woodley, 
 with her charge, had not returned to their old re- 
 treat ; but were gone to a farm-house, not farther 
 than thirty miles from Lord Elmwood's. Here Sand 
 ford, with little inconvenience, visited them; nor did
 
 298 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 his patron ever take notice of his occasional absence : 
 for as he had before given his daughter, in some 
 measure, to his charge, so honour, delicaqy, and the 
 common ties of duty, made him approve, rather than 
 condemn, his attention to her. 
 
 Though Sandford's frequent visits soothed Ma- 
 tilda, they could not comfort her ; for he had no 
 consolation to bestow that was suited to her mind ; 
 her father having given no one token of regret for 
 what he had done. 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, he appeared really so. 
 
 To the farm-house, the place of Matilda's resi- 
 dence, 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 closed 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 
 barbarous design 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 sex 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 haugh- 
 tiness of the latter, still kept him at a distance, and 
 again made him fear to give one allusion to his pur- 
 pose : but he returned home, resolved to write what
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 209 
 
 he durst not speak. He did so he offered his ser- 
 vices, his purse, his house : they were rejected with 
 disdain, and a stronger prohibition than ever given 
 to his visits. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 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 with 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 paused too for he wished to have for- 
 gotten it but it was too strongly impressed upon 
 his memory. Lord Elmwood resumed, 
 
 "What! equivocating again, sir? Do you re- 
 member 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 ray lord if it had met 
 with your concurrence." 
 
 " You wished to lead a bachelors life, I think 
 jou said?"
 
 300 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 Rushbrook bowed. 
 
 " Contrary to my will ?" 
 
 " No, my lord, I wished to have your approba- 
 tion." 
 
 " And you wished for my approbation of the very 
 opposite thing to that which I proposed ? But I am 
 not surprised : such is the gratitude of the world ; 
 and such is yours." 
 
 " My lord, if you doubt my gratitude " 
 
 " 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 that your desires " 
 
 Lord Elmwood interrupted him : " I understand 
 you : upon every other subject, but the only one 
 which 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 ingratitude ! 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."
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 301 
 
 " Do you suppose, Rushbrook, I can pardon an 
 oftence, the sole foundation of which arises from a 
 spirit of disobedience; for you have declared to me 
 your affections are disengaged. In our last conver- 
 sation did you not say so V 
 
 " 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 with- 
 out confessing it." 
 
 " I waited, my lord, till you should inquire " 
 
 " You have then, sir, -waited too long," and the 
 fire flashed from his eyes. 
 
 Rusii brook 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, ani- 
 mated 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 con- 
 vulsion 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 petition I should offer to you." 
 
 " Let me recollect," replied he. " Yes I do 
 remember something of it. But 1 said nothing to 
 warrant any improper petition." 
 
 " Its impropriety was not named, my lord." 
 
 " No matter that you must judge of, and answer 
 for the consequences." 
 
 " 1 would answer with my life, willingly but I 
 own that I shrink from your displeasure." 
 
 " Then do not provoke it." 
 
 " I have already gone too far to recede ; and you 
 
 VOL. XXVIII. 2 D
 
 302 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 would of course demand an explanation, if I attempt- 
 ed 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." 
 
 " I will, sir," replied he, prepared to hear some- 
 thing that would excite his resentment, and yet de- 
 termined to hear with patience to the conclusion. 
 
 " Then, my lord," (cried Rushbrook, in the 
 greatest agitation of mind and body), " your daugh- 
 ter" 
 
 The resolution Lord Elmwood had taken (and on 
 which he had given his word to his nephew not to 
 interrupt him) immediately gave way. The colour 
 rose in his face his eye darted lightning and his 
 hand was lifted up with the emotion that word had 
 created. 
 
 " You promised to hear me, my lord," cried 
 Rushbrook, " and I claim your promise." 
 
 He now suddenly overcame his violence of pas- 
 sion, and stood silent and resigned to hear him ; but 
 with a determined look, expressive of the vengeance 
 that should ensue. 
 
 " Lady Matilda," resumed Rushbrook, " is an 
 object that wrests from me the enjoyment of every 
 blessing your kindness bestows. I cannot but feel 
 myself as her adversary as one who has supplanted 
 her in your affections who supplies her place while 
 she is exiled, a wanderer, and an orphan." 
 
 The earl took his eyes from Rushbrook, during 
 this last sentence, and cast them on the floor. 
 
 " If I feel gratitude towards you, my lord'', con- 
 tinued he, " gratitude is innate in my heart ; and I 
 must also feel it towards her who first introduced 
 me to your protection." 
 
 Again the colour flew to Lord Elmwood's face ;
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 303 
 
 and again he could hardly restrain himself from ut- 
 tering his indignation. 
 
 " It was the mother of Lady Matilda,'' continued 
 Rushbrook, " who was this friend to me ; nor will I 
 ever think of marriage, or any other joyful prospect, 
 while you abandon the only child of my beloved 
 patroness, and load me with rights which belong to 
 her." 
 
 Here Rushbrook stopped : Lord Elmwood was 
 silent too, for near half a minute ; but still his coun- 
 tenance continued fixed with his unvaried resolves. 
 
 After this long pause, the earl said with compo- 
 sure, which denoted firmness, " Have you finished, 
 Mr. Rushbrook ?" 
 
 " All that I dare to utter, my lord ; and 1 fear 1 
 have already said too much." 
 
 Rushbrook now trembled more than ever, and 
 looked pale as death ; for the ardour of speaking 
 being over, he waited his sentence, with less con- 
 stancy of mind than he expected he should. 
 
 " You disapprove my conduct, it seems," said 
 Lord Elmwood ; " and in that you are but like the 
 rest of the world ; and yet, among all my acquaint- 
 ance, you are the only one who has dared to insult 
 me with your opinion. And this you have not done 
 inadvertently, but willingly and deliberately. But 
 as it has been my fate to be used ill, and severed 
 from all those persons to whom my soul has been 
 most attached, with less regret I can part from you 
 than if this were my first trial." 
 
 There was a truth and a pathetic sound in the ut- 
 terance of these words that struckRushbrook to the 
 heart ; and he beheld himself as a barbarian, who 
 had treated his benevolent and only friend with 
 insufferable liberty void of respect for those cor- 
 roding sorrows which had imbittered so many years 
 of his life, and in open violation of his most peremp- 
 2 D 2
 
 304 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 tory commands. He felt that he deserved all he 
 was going to sutler, and he fell upon his knees ; not 
 so much to deprecate the doom he saw impending, 
 as thus humbly to acknowledge it was his due. 
 
 Lord Elm wood, irritated by this posture, as a 
 sign of the presumptuous hope that he might be 
 forgiven, suffered now his anger to burst all bounds ; 
 and raising his voice, he exclaimed with rage, 
 
 " Leave my house, sir. Leave my house instant- 
 ly, and seek some other home." 
 
 Just as these words were begun, Sandford opened 
 the library door, was witness to them, and to the 
 imploring situation of Rushbrook. He stood silent 
 with amazement ! 
 
 Rushbrook arose, and feeling in his mind a pre- 
 sage, that he might never from that hour behold 
 his benefactor more, as he bowed in token of obe- 
 dience to his commands, a shower of tears covered 
 his face ; but Lord Elmwood, unmoved, fixed his 
 eyes upon him, which pursued him with enraged 
 looks to the end of the room. Here he had to pass 
 Sandford ; who, for the first time in his life, took 
 hold of him by the hand, and said to Lord Elmwood, 
 " My lord, what's the matter ?" 
 
 " That ungrateful villain," cried he, " has dared 
 to insult me. Leave my house this moment, sir." 
 
 Rushbrook made an effort to go, but Sandford 
 still held his hand ; and meekly said to Lord Elm- 
 wood, 
 
 " He is but a boy, my lord, and do not give him 
 the punishment of a man." 
 
 Rushbrook now snatched his hand from Sand- 
 ford's, and threw it with himself upon his neck ; 
 where he indeed sobbed like a boy. 
 
 " You are both in league," exclaimed Lord Elm- 
 wood. 
 
 iC Do you suspect me of partiality to Mr. Rush-
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 305 
 
 brook ?" said Sandford, advancing nearer to the 
 earl. 
 
 Rushbrook had now gained the point of remaining 
 in the room ; but the hope that privilege inspired 
 (while he still harhoured all the just apprehensions 
 for his fate) gave hirth, perhaps, to a more exquisite 
 sensation of pain, than despair would have done. 
 He stood silent confounded hoping that he was 
 forgiven fearing that he was not. 
 
 As Sandford approached still nearer to Lord 
 Elmwood, he continued : " No, my lord; I know you 
 do not suspect me of partiality to Mr. Rushbrook. 
 Has any part of my behaviour ever discovered it?" 
 
 " You now then only interfere to irritate me." 
 
 " If that were the case," returned Sandford, 
 " there have been occasions when I might have 
 done it more effectually ; when my own heart-strings 
 were breaking, because I would not irritate, or add 
 to what you suffered." 
 
 " I am obliged to you, Mr. Sandford," he re- 
 turned, mildly and thankfully. 
 
 " And if, my lord, I have proved any merit in a 
 late forbearance, reward me for it now : and take 
 this young man from the depth of sorrow in which 
 I see he is sunk, and say you pardon him." 
 
 Lord Elmwood made no answer and Rushbrook, 
 drawing strong inferences of hope from his silence, 
 lifted up his eyes from the ground, and ventured to 
 look in his face : he found it serene to what it had 
 been, but. still strongly marked with agitation. He 
 cast his eyes away again, in shame and confusion. 
 
 On which his uncle said to him, " I shall post- 
 pone the exacting of your obedience to my late 
 orders, till you think fit once more to provoke them ; 
 and then, not even Sandford shall dare to plead 
 your excuse." 
 
 Rushbrook bowed. 
 
 2 D 3
 
 306 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " Go, leave the room, sir." 
 
 He instantly obeyed. 
 
 Then Sandford, turning to Lord Elrnwood, shook 
 him by the hand, and cried, " My lord, I thank you 
 I thank you very kindly, my lord : I shall now 
 begin to think I have some weight with you." 
 
 " You might indeed think so, did you know how 
 much I have pardoned." 
 
 " What was his offence, my lord ?" 
 
 " Such as I would not have forgiven you, or any 
 earthly being besides himself: but while you were 
 speaking in his behalf, I recollected there was a 
 gratitude so extraordinary in the hazards he ran 
 that almost made him pardonable." 
 
 " I guess the subject then," cried Sandford ; 
 " and yet I could not have supposed" 
 
 " It is a subject we cannot speak on, Sandford : 
 therefore let us drop it." 
 
 At these words the discourse concluded. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVII. 
 
 To the relief of Rushbrook, Lord Elrnwood that day 
 dined from home, and he had not the confusion to 
 see him again till the evening. Previous to this, 
 Sandford and he met at dinner ; but as the attend- 
 ants were present, nothing passed on either side 
 respecting the incident in the morning. Rushbrook, 
 from the peril which had so lately threatened him, 
 was now in his perfectly cool and dispassionate 
 senses ; and notwithstanding the real tenderness 
 which he bore to the daughter of his benefactor, he 
 was not insensible to the comfort of rinding himself 
 once more in the possession of all those enjoyments 
 he had forfeited, and for a moment lost.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 307 
 
 As he reflected on this, to Sandford he felt the 
 first tie of acknowledgment : but for his compas- 
 sion, he knew he should have been, at that very time 
 of their meeting at dinner, away from Elmwood 
 House for ever, and bearing on his mind a still 
 more painful recollection the burthen of his kind 
 patron's continual displeasure. Filled with these 
 thoughts, all the time of dinner, he could scarce 
 look at his companion without tears of gratitude ; 
 and whenever he attempted to speak to him, grati- 
 tude choaked his utterance. 
 
 Sandford, on his part, behaved just the same as 
 ever ; and to show he did not wish to remind Rush- 
 brook of what he had done, he was just as uncivil 
 as ever. 
 
 Among other things, he said, " He did not know 
 Lord Elmwood dined from home ; for if he had, he 
 should have dined in his own apartment." 
 
 Rushbrook was still more obliged to him for all 
 this ; and the weight of obligations with which he 
 was opprest made him long for an opportunity to 
 relieve himself by expressions. As soon, therefore, 
 as the servants were all withdrawn, he began : 
 
 " Mr. Sandford, whatever has been your opinion 
 of me, I take pride to myself, that in my sentiments 
 towards you, I have always distinguished you for 
 that humane, disinterested character, you have this 
 day proved." 
 
 " Humane and disinterested," replied Sandford, 
 " are flattering epithets indeed, for an old man going 
 out of the world, and who can have no temptation 
 to be otherwise." 
 
 " Then suffer me to call your actions generous 
 and compassionate, for they have saved me " 
 
 " I know, young man," cried Sandford, inter- 
 rupting him, " you are glad at what I have done, 
 and that you find a gratification in telling me you
 
 308 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 are ; but it is a gratification I will not indulge you 
 with : therefore, say another sentence on the sub- 
 ject, and" (rising from his seat) " I'll leave the 
 room, and never come into your company again, 
 whatever your uncle may say to it." 
 
 Rushbrook saw by the solemnity of his counte- 
 nance he was serious, and positively assured him he 
 would never thank him more ; on which Sandford 
 took his seat again, but he still frowned, and it was 
 many minutes before he conquered his ill-humour. 
 As his countenance became less sour, Rushbrook 
 fell from some general topics he had eagerly started 
 in order to appease him, and said, 
 
 " How hard is it to restrain conversation from the 
 subject of our thoughts ! And yet amidst our dearest 
 friends, and among persons who have the same dis- 
 positions and sentiments as our own, their minds, 
 too, fixed upon the self-same objects, this constraint 
 is practised ; and thus society, which was meant 
 for one of our greatest blessings, becomes insipid, 
 nay, often more wearisome than solitude." 
 
 " I think, young man," replied Sandford, " you 
 have made pretty free with your speech to-day, and 
 ought not to complain of the want of toleration on 
 that score." 
 
 " I do complain," replied Rushbrook ; " for if 
 toleration were more frequent, the favour of obtain- 
 ing it would be less." 
 
 " And your pride, I suppose, is above receiving 
 a favour." 
 
 " Never from those I esteem ; and to convince 
 you of it, I wish this moment to request a favour 
 of you." 
 
 " I dare say I shall refuse it. However, what 
 is it?" 
 
 " Permit me to speak to you upon the subject of 
 Lady Matilda ! "
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 309 
 
 Sandford made no answer, consequently did not 
 forbid him ; and he proceeded : 
 
 " For her sake as I suppose Lord Elmwood may 
 have told you I this morning rashly threw myself 
 into the predicament from whence you released me: 
 for her sake I have suffered much for her sake 
 I have hazarded a great deal, and am still ready to 
 hazard more." 
 
 " But for your own sake, do not," returned Sand- 
 ford drily. 
 
 " You may laugh at these sentiments as romantic, 
 Mr. Sandford ; but if they are, to me they are never- 
 theless natural." 
 
 " But of what service are they to be either to her 
 or to yourself?" 
 
 " To me they are painful, and to her would be 
 but impertinent, were she to know them." 
 
 " I shan't inform her of them : so do not trouble 
 yourself to caution me against it." 
 
 " I was not going you know I was not but I 
 was going to say, that from no one so well as from 
 you, could she be told my sentiments without the 
 danger of receiving offence." 
 
 " And what impression do you wish to give her, 
 from her becoming acquainted with them V 
 
 " The impression, that she has one sincere friend ; 
 that upon every occurrence in life, there is a heart 
 so devoted to all she feels that she never can suffer 
 without the sympathy of another ; or can ever com- 
 mand him, and all his fortunes to unite for her 
 welfare, without his ready, his immediate com- 
 pliance." 
 
 " And do you imagine, that any of your profes- 
 sions, or any of her necessities, would ever prevail 
 upon her to put you to the trial ?" 
 " Perhaps not."
 
 310 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " What, then, are the motives which induce you 
 to wish her to he told of this ? " 
 
 Rushbrook hesitated. 
 
 " Do you think," continued Sandford, "the intel- 
 ligence will give her any satisfaction ? " 
 
 " Perhaps not." 
 
 " Will it be of any to yourself?" 
 
 " The highest in the world." 
 
 " And so all you have been urging upon this oc- 
 casion, is, at last, only to please yourself." 
 
 " You wrong my meaning : it is her merit which 
 inspires me with the desire of being known to her 
 it is her sufferings, her innocence, her beauty " 
 
 Sandford stared ; Rushbrook proceeded : " It is 
 her " 
 
 " Nay, stop where you are," cried Sandford : 
 " you are arrived at the zenith of perfection in a wo- 
 man, and to add one qualification more would be an 
 anti-climax." 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Rushbrook with warmth, " I loved 
 her before I ever beheld her." 
 
 "Loved her!" cried Sandford, with marks of 
 astonishment : "you are talking of what you did not 
 intend." 
 
 ."lam, indeed," returned he in confusion : "I 
 fell by accident on the word love." 
 
 " And by the same accident stumbled on the word 
 beauty ; and thus by accident am I come to the 
 truth of all your professions." 
 
 Rushbrook knew that he loved ; and though his 
 affection had sprung from the most laudable motives, 
 yet was he ashamed of it as of a vice : he rose, he 
 walked about the room, and he did not look Sand- 
 ford in the face for a quarter of an hour. Sandford, 
 satisfied that he had judged rightly, and yet unwill- 
 ing to be too hard upon a passion which he readily
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 311 
 
 believed must have had many noble virtues for its 
 foundation, now got up and went away, without 
 saying a word in censure, though not a word in 
 approbation. 
 
 It was in the month of October, and just dark at 
 the time Rushbrook was left alone, yet in the agita- 
 tion of his mind, arising from the subject on which 
 he had been talking, he found it impossible to re- 
 main in the house, and therefore walked into the 
 fields. But there was another instigation, more 
 powerful than the necessity of walking : it was the 
 allurement of passing along that path where he had 
 last seen Lady Matilda, and where, for the only 
 time, she had condescended to speak to him divested 
 of haughtiness, and with a gentleness that dwelt 
 upon his memory beyond all her other endowments. 
 
 Here he retraced his own steps repeatedly, his 
 whole imagination engrossed with her idea, till the 
 sound of her father's carriage returning from his 
 visit, roused him from the delusion of his trance, to 
 the dread of the embarrassment he should endure 
 on next meeting him. He hoped Sandford might 
 be present ; and yet he was now almost as much 
 ashamed of seeing him as his uncle, whom he had 
 so lately offended. 
 
 Loath to leave the spot where he was, as to enter 
 the house, he remained there, till he considered it 
 would be ill manners, in his present humiliated si- 
 tuation, not to show himself at the usual supper hour, 
 which was now nearly arrived. 
 
 As he laid his hand upon the door of the apart- 
 ment to open it, he was sorry to hear by Lord Elm- 
 wood's voice he was in the room before him : for 
 there was something much more conspicuously dis- 
 tressing, in entering where he already was, than had 
 his uncle come in after him. He found himself, 
 however, re-assured by overhearing the earl laugh
 
 312 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 and speak in a tone expressive of the utmost good 
 humour to Sandford, who was with him. 
 
 Yet again, he felt all the awkwardness of his own 
 situation; but, making one courageous effort, opened 
 the door and entered. Lord Elm wood had been 
 away half the day, had dined abroad, and it was 
 necessary to take some notice of his return. Rush- 
 brook, therefore, bowed humbly; and, what was more 
 to his advantage, he looked humbly. His uncle 
 made a slight return to the salutation, but continued 
 the recital he had begun to Sandford ; then sat 
 down to the supper-table supped and passed 
 the whole evening without saying a syllable, or even 
 casting a look, in remembrance of what had passed 
 in the morning. Or, if there was any token that 
 shewed he remembered the circumstance at all, it 
 was the putting his glass to his nephew's, when 
 Rushbrook called for wine, and drinking at the 
 time he did. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 The repulse Lord Margrave received did not di- 
 minish the ardour of his pursuit ; for as he was no 
 longer afraid of resentment from the earl, whatever 
 treatment his daughter might receive, he was deter- 
 mined the anger of Lady Matilda, or of her female 
 friend, should not impede his pretensions. 
 
 Having taken this resolution, he laid the plan of 
 an open violation of laws both human and Divine ; 
 and he determined to bear away that prize by force, 
 which no art was likely to procure. He concerted 
 with two of his favourite companions; but their 
 advice was, " One struggle more of fair means."
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 313 
 
 This was totally against bis inclination ; for he had 
 much ralher have encountered the piercing cries of 
 a female in the last agonies of distress than the 
 fatigue of her sentimental harangues, or elegant re- 
 proofs, such as he had the sense to understand, but 
 not the capacity to answer. 
 
 Stimulated, however, by his friends to one more 
 trial, in spite of the formal dismission lie had twice 
 received, he intruded another visit on Lady Matilda 
 at the farm. Provoked beyond bearing at such 
 unfeeling assurance, Matilda refused to come into 
 the room where he was, and Miss Woodley alone 
 received him, and expressed her surprise at the little 
 attention he had paid to her explicit desire, 
 
 " Madam," replied the nobleman, " to be plain 
 with you, 1 am in love." 
 
 '* I do not the least doubt it, my lord," replied Miss 
 Woodley : " nor ought you to doubt the truth of 
 what I advance, when I assure you, that you have 
 not the smallest reason to hope your l6ve will be 
 returned; for Lady Matilda is resolved never to 
 listen to your passion." 
 
 ' That man," he replied, " is to blame, who can 
 relinquish his hopes upon the mere resolution of a 
 lady." 
 
 '* And that lady would be wrong," replied Miss 
 Woodley, " who should entrust her happiness in the 
 care of a man who can think thus meanly of her 
 and of her sex." 
 
 *' I think highly of them all," he replied ; " and 
 to convince you in how high an estimation I hold 
 her in particular, my whole fortune is at her com- 
 mand." 
 
 " Your entire absence from this house, my lord, 
 she would consider as a much greater mark of your 
 respect." 
 
 A long conversation, as uninteresting as the fore- 
 
 VOL. XXVIII. 2 B
 
 314 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 going, ensued : when the unexpected arrival of Mr. 
 Sandford put an end to it. He started at the sight 
 of Lord Margrave ; but the viscount was much more 
 affected at the sight of him. 
 
 " My lord," said Sandford boldly to bin, " have 
 you received any encouragement from Lady Matilda 
 to authorise this visit?" 
 
 " None, upon my honour, Mr. Sandford : but I 
 hope you know how to pardon a lover ! " 
 
 " A rational one I do ; but you, my lord, are not 
 of that class while you persecute the pretended ob- 
 ject of your affection." 
 
 " Do you call it persecution that I once offered 
 her a share of my title and fortune ; and even now, 
 declare my fortune to be at her disposal ? " 
 
 Sandford was uncertain whether he understood 
 his meaning : but Lord Margrave, provoked at his 
 ill reception, felt a triumph in removing his doubts, 
 and proceeded thus : 
 
 " For the discarded daughter of Lord Elmwood 
 cannot expect the same proposals which I made, 
 while she was acknowledged and under the protec- 
 tion of her father." 
 
 " What proposals then, my lord?" asked Sand- 
 ford hastily. 
 
 " Such," replied he, " as the Duke of Avon made 
 to her mother." 
 
 Miss Woodley quitted the room that instant. 
 But Sandford, who never felt resentment but against 
 those in whom he saw some virtue, calmly replied, 
 
 " My lord, the Duke of Avon was a gentleman, 
 a man of elegance and breeding ; and what have you 
 to offer in recompense for your defects in qualities 
 like these ?" 
 
 " My wealth," replied he, " opposed to her in- 
 digence." 
 
 Sandford smiled, and answered,
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 815 
 
 " Do you suppose that wealth can be esteemed, 
 which has not been able to make you respectable? 
 What is it makes wealth valuable ? Is it the plea- 
 sures of the table ; the pleasure of living in a fine 
 house, or of wearing fine clothes ? These are 
 pleasures a lord enjoys but in common with his 
 valet. It is the pleasure of being conspicuous 
 which makes riches desirable ; but if we are con- 
 spicuous only for our vice and folly, had we not 
 better remain in poverty ? " 
 
 " You are beneath my notice." 
 
 " I trust I shall continue so ; and that your lord- 
 ship will never again condescend to come where I 
 am." 
 
 " A man of rank condescends to mix with any 
 society, when a pretty woman is the object." 
 
 " My lord, I have a book here in my pocket, 
 which I am eager to read : it is an author who 
 speaks sense and reason. Will you pardon the im- 
 patience I feel for such company, and permit me to 
 call your carriage ? " 
 
 Saying this, he went hastily and beckoned to the 
 coachman. The carriage drove up, the door was 
 opened, and Lord Margrave, ashamed to be exposed 
 before his attendants, and convinced of the inutility 
 of remaining any longer where he was, departed. 
 
 Sandford was soou joined by the ladies ; and the 
 conversation falling, of course, upon the nobleman 
 who had just taken his leave, Sandford unwarily 
 exclaimed, " I wish Rushbrook had been here." 
 
 "Who?" cried Lady Matilda. 
 
 " I do believe," said Miss Woodley, " that young 
 man has some good qualities." 
 
 " A great many," returned Sandford, mutter- 
 ingly. 
 
 " Happy young man ! " cried Matilda : " he is 
 beloved by all those whose affection it would be my 
 2 E 2
 
 316 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 choice to possess, beyond any other blessing this 
 world could bestow." 
 
 " And yet I question if Rushbrook be happy," 
 said Sand ford. 
 
 " He cannot be otherwise," returned Matilda, 
 " if he is a man of understanding." 
 
 " He does not want understanding neither," re- 
 plied Sandford ; " although he has certainly many 
 indiscretions." 
 
 " But which Lord Elmwood, I suppose," said 
 Matilda, " looks upon with tenderness." 
 
 " Not upon all his faults," answered Sandford ; 
 " for I have seen him in very dangerous circum- 
 stances with your father." 
 
 "Have you indeed?" cried Matilda: "then I 
 pity him." 
 
 " And I believe," said Miss Woodley, " that from 
 his heart, he compassionates you. Now, Mr. Sand- 
 ford," continued she, " though this is the first time 
 I ever heard you speak in his favour (and I once 
 thought as indifferently of Mr. Rushbrook as you 
 can do), yet now I will venture to ask you, whether 
 you do not think he wishes Lady Matilda much hap- 
 pier than she is ? " 
 
 " I have heard him say so," answered Sandford. 
 
 " It is a subject," returned Lady Matilda, " which 
 I did not imagine you, Mr. Sandford, would have 
 permitted him to have mentioned lightly in your 
 presence." 
 
 " Lightly ! Do you suppose, my dear, we turned 
 your situation into ridicule ? " 
 
 " No, sir; but there is a sort of humiliation in 
 the grief to which I am doomed that ought surely 
 to be treated with the highest degree of delicacy by 
 my friends." 
 
 " I don't know on what point you fix real delicacy ; 
 but if it consists in sorrow, the young man gives a
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 317 
 
 proof he possesses it, tor he shed tears when I last 
 heard him mention your name." 
 
 " I have more cause to weep at the mention of 
 his." 
 
 " Perhaps so : but let me tell you, Lady Matilda, 
 that your father might have preferred a more un- 
 worthy object." 
 
 " Still had he been to me," she cried, " an object 
 of envy. And as I frankly confess my envy of Mr. 
 Rushbrook, I hope you will pardon my malice, which 
 is, you know, but a consequent crime." 
 
 The subject now turned ^again upon Lord Mar- 
 grave; and all. of them being firmly persuaded this 
 last reception would put an end to every further in- 
 trusion from him, they treated his pretensions, and 
 himself, with the contempt they inspired, but not 
 with the caution that was requisite. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 The next morning early, Mr. Sandford returned to 
 Elmwood House, but with his spirits depressed, and 
 his heart overcharged with sorrow. He had seen 
 Lady Matilda, the object of his visit ; but he had 
 beheld her considerably altered in her looks and in 
 her health. She was become very thin, and instead 
 of the vivid bloom that used to adorn her cheeks, her 
 whole complexion was of a deadly pale ; her counte- 
 nance no longer expressed hope or fear, but a fixed 
 melancholy : she shed no tears t but was all sadness. 
 He had beheld this, and he had heard her insulted 
 by the licentious proposals of a nobleman, from 
 whom there was no satisfaction to be demanded, 
 because she had no friend to vindicate her honour. 
 Rushbrook, who suspected where Sandford was 
 2 E 3
 
 318 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 gone, and imagined he would return on the following 
 day, took his morning's ride, so as to meet him on 
 the road, at the distance of a few miles from the 
 castle ; for, since his perilous situation with Lord 
 Elmwood, he was so fully convinced of the general 
 philanthropy of Sandford s character, that in spite 
 of his cliurlish manners, he now addressed him, free 
 from that reserve to which his rough behaviour had 
 formerly given birth. And Sandford, on his part, 
 believing he had formed an illiberal opinion of Lord 
 Elmwood's heir, though he took no pains to let him 
 know that his opinion was changed, vet resolved to 
 make him restitution upon every occasion that 
 offered. 
 
 Their mutual greetings, when they met, were un- 
 ceremonious, but cordial ; and Rushbrook turned 
 his horse and rode back with Sandford : yet, in- 
 timidated by his respect and tenderness for Lady 
 Matilda, rather than by fear of the rebuffs of his 
 companion, he had not the courage to name her, till 
 the ride was just finished, and they came within a 
 few yards of the house. Incited then by the appre- 
 hension he might not soon again enjoy so tit an 
 opportunity, he said, 
 
 "Pardon me, Mr. Sandford, if I guess where you 
 have been, and if my curiosity forces me to inquire 
 for Miss Woodley's and Lady Matilda's health'!" 
 
 He named Miss Woodley first, to prolong the 
 time before he mentioned Matilda; for though to 
 name her gave him extreme pleasure, yet it was a 
 pleasure accompanied by confusion and pain. 
 
 " They are both very well," replied Sandford : 
 " at least they did not complain they were sick." 
 
 "They are not in spirits, 1 suppose?" said 
 Rushbrook. 
 
 " No, indeed," replied Sandford, shaking his 
 head.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 319 
 
 " No new misfortune lias happened, 1 hope?" 
 cried Rushbrook : for it was plain to see Sandford's 
 spirits were unusually cast down. 
 
 '" Nothing new," returned he, " except the inso- 
 lence of a young nobleman." 
 
 " What nobleman?" cried Rushbrook. 
 
 " A lover of Lady Matilda's," replied Sandford. 
 
 Rushbrook was petrified. " Who ? what lover, 
 Mr. Sandford ? Explain." 
 
 They were now arrived at the house ; and Sand- 
 ford, without making any reply to this question, said 
 to the servant who took his horse, " She has come 
 a long way this morning : take care of her." 
 
 This interruption was torture to Rushbrook, who 
 kept close to his side, in order to obtain a further 
 explanation ; but Sandford, without attending to 
 him, walked negligently into the hall, and, before 
 they advanced many steps, they were met by Lord 
 Elmwood. 
 
 All further information was put an end to for the 
 present. 
 
 " How do you do, Sandford?" said Lord Elm- 
 wood, with extreme kindness, as if he thanked him 
 for the journey which, it was likely, he suspected 
 he had been taking. 
 
 " I am indifferently well, my lord," replied he, 
 with a face of deep concern, and a tear in his eye, 
 partly in gratitude for his patron's civility, and partly 
 in reproach for his cruelty. 
 
 It was not now till the evening, that Rushbrook 
 had an opportunity of renewing the conversation 
 which had been so painfully interrupted. 
 
 In the evening, no longer able to support the 
 suspense into which he was thrown, without fear or 
 shame, he followed Sandford into his chamber at 
 the time of his retiring, and entreated of him, with 
 all the anxiety he suffered, to explain his allusion
 
 820 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 when he talked of a lover, and of insolence to Lady 
 Matilda. 
 
 Sandford, seeing his emotion, was angry with 
 himself that he had inadvertently mentioned the 
 circumstance ; and putting on an air of surly im- 
 portance, desired, if he had any business with him, 
 that he would call in the morning. 
 
 Exasperated at so unexpected a reception, and at 
 the pain of his disappointment, Rushbrook replied, 
 " He treated him cruelly; nor would he stir out of 
 his room, till he had received a satisfactory answer 
 to his question." 
 
 " Then bring your bed," replied Sandford, " for 
 you must pass your whole night here." 
 
 He found it vain to think of obtaining any intelli- 
 gence by threats : he therefore said in a timid and 
 persuasive manner, 
 
 " Did you, Mr. Sandford, hear Lady Matilda 
 mention my name ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Sandford, a little better recon 
 ciled to him. 
 
 " Did you tell her what I lately declared to you V 
 he asked with still more diffidence. 
 
 " No," replied Sandford. 
 
 " It is very well, sir," returned he, vexed to the 
 heart, yet again wishing to sooth him. 
 
 " You certainly, Mr. Sandford, know what is for 
 the best : yet I entreat you will give me some fur- 
 ther account of the nobleman you named." 
 
 " I know what is for the best," replied Sandford, 
 " and I won't." 
 
 Rushbrook bowed, and immediately left the room. 
 He went apparently submissive ; but the moment 
 he showed this submission, he took the resolution 
 of paying a visit himself to the farm at which Lady 
 Matilda resided ; and of learning, either from Miss 
 Woodley, the people of the house, the neighbours,
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 321 
 
 or perhaps from Lady Matilda's own lips, the secret 
 which the obstinacy of Sandford had withheld. 
 
 He saw all the dangers of this undertaking ; but 
 none appeared so great as the danger of losing her 
 he loved, by the influence of a rival : and though 
 Sandford had named " insolence," he was in doubt 
 whether what had appeared so to him was so in 
 reality, or would be so considered by her. 
 
 To prevent the cause of his absence being sus- 
 pected by Lord Elmwood, he immediately called his 
 groom, ordered his horse, and giving those servants 
 concerned a strict charge of secrecy, with some 
 frivolous pretence to apologize for his not being 
 present at breakfast (resolving to be back by dinner) 
 he set off that night, and arrived at an inn about a 
 mile from the farm at break of day. 
 
 The joy he felt when he found himself so near to 
 the beloved object of his journey, made him thank 
 Sandford in his heart for the unkindness which had 
 sent him thither. But new difficulties arose, how to 
 accomplish the end for which he came. He learned 
 from the people of the inn, that a lord, with a fine 
 equipage, had visited at the farm ; but who he was, 
 or for what purpose he went, no one could inform 
 him. 
 
 Dreading to return with his doubts unsatisfied, 
 and yet afraid of proceeding to extremities that 
 might be construed into presumption, he walked 
 disconsolately (almost distractedly) across the fields, 
 looking repeatedly at his watch, and wishing the 
 time would stand still till he was ready to go back 
 with his errand completed. 
 
 Every field he passed, brought him nearer to the 
 house on which his imagination was fixed ; but how, 
 without forfeiting every appearance of that respect 
 which he so powerfully felt, could he attempt to 
 enter it? He saw the indecorum, resolved not to be
 
 322 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 guilty of it, and yet walked on till he was within but 
 a small orchard of the door. Could he then retreat ? 
 He wished he could ; but he found that he had 
 proceeded too far to be any longer master of him- 
 self. The time was urgent : he must either behold 
 her, and venture her displeasure, or by diffidence 
 during one moment give up all his hopes, perhaps, 
 for ever. 
 
 With that same disregard to consequences which 
 actuated him when he dared to supplicate Lord 
 Elmwood in his daughter's behalf, he at length went 
 eagerly to the door and rapped. 
 
 A servant came : he asked to " speak with Miss 
 Woodley, if she was quite alone." 
 
 He was shown into an apartment, and Miss Wood- 
 ley entered to him. 
 
 She started when she beheld who it was ; but as 
 he did not see a frown upon her face, he caught hold 
 of her hand, and said persuasively, 
 
 " Do not be offended with me. If I mean to offend 
 you, may I forfeit my life in atonement.'' 
 
 Poor Miss Woodley, glad in her solitude to see 
 any one from Elmwood House, forgot his visit was 
 an offence, till he put her in mind of it : she then 
 said, with some reserve, 
 
 " Tell me the purport of your coming, sir, and 
 perhaps I may have no reason to complain." 
 
 " It was to see Lady Matilda," he replied, " or 
 to hear of her health. It was to offer her my services 
 it was, Miss Woodley, to convince her, if possible, 
 of my esteem." 
 
 "Had you no other method, sir?" said Miss 
 Woodley, with the same reserve. 
 
 " None," replied he, " or with joy I should have 
 embraced it ; and if you can inform me of any other, 
 tell me I beseech you instantly, and I will imme- 
 diately be gone, and pursue your directions."
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 323 
 
 Miss Woodley hesitated. 
 
 " You know of no other means, Miss Woodley ?" 
 he cried. 
 
 " And yet I cannot commend this," said she. 
 
 " Nor do I. Do not imagine because you see me 
 here, that I approve of my visit ; but/reduced to this 
 necessity, pity the motives that have urged it." 
 
 Miss Woodley did pity them ; but as she would 
 not own that she did, she could think of nothing else 
 to say. 
 
 At this instant a bell rung from the chamber 
 above. 
 
 " That is Lady Matilda's bell," said Miss Wood- 
 ley : " she is coming to take a short walk. Do you 
 wish to see her ?" 
 
 Though it was the first wish of his heart, he 
 paused, and said, " Will you plead my excuse?" 
 
 As the flight of stairs was but short, which Ma- 
 tilda had to come down, she was in the room with 
 Miss Woodley and Mr. Rushbrook, just as that 
 sentence ended. 
 
 She had stepped beyond the door of the apart- 
 ment, when, perceiving a visitor, she hastily with- 
 drew. 
 
 Rushbrook, animated, though trembling at her 
 presence, cried, " Lady Matilda, do not avoid me, 
 till you know that I deserve such a punishment." 
 
 She immediately saw who it was, and returned 
 back with a proper pride, and yet a proper politeness 
 in her manner. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir," said she : " I did not 
 know you. I was afraid I intruded upon Miss 
 Woodley and a stranger." 
 
 " You do not then consider me as a stranger, 
 Lady Matilda? And that you do not requires my 
 warmest acknowledgments."
 
 324 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 She sat down, as if overcome by ill spirits and ill 
 health. 
 
 Miss Woodley now asked Rushbrook to sit ; for 
 till now she had not. 
 
 " No, madam," replied he, with confusion ; " not 
 unless Lady Matilda gives me permission." 
 
 She smiled, and pointed to a chair ; and all the 
 kindness which Rushbrook during his whole life had 
 received from Lord Elmwood never inspired half 
 the gratitude which this one instance of civility 
 from his daughter excited. 
 
 He sat down with the confession of the obligation 
 upon every feature of his face. 
 
 "1 am not well, Mr. Rushbrook," said Matilda, 
 languidly ; " and you must excuse any want of eti- 
 quette at this house." 
 
 " While you excuse me, madam, what can I have 
 to complain of?" 
 
 She appeared absent while he was speaking, and 
 turning to Miss Woodley, said, " Do you think I 
 had better walk to day V 
 
 " No, my dear," answered Miss Woodley : " the 
 ground is damp, and the air cold." 
 
 " You are not well, indeed, Lady Matilda," said 
 Rushbrook gazing upon her with the most tender 
 respect. 
 
 She shook her head ; and the tears, without any 
 effort either to impel or to restrain them, ran down 
 her face. 
 
 Rushbrook rose from his seat, and, with an accent 
 and manner the most expressive, said, " We are 
 cousins, Lady Matilda : in our infancy we were 
 brought up together : we were beloved by the same 
 
 mother ; fostered by the same father " 
 
 " Oh! oh!" cried she, interrupting him with a 
 tone which indicated the bitterest anguish.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 325 
 
 " Nay, do not let me add to your uneasiness," he 
 resumed, " while I am attempting to alleviate it. 
 Instruct me what 1 can do to show my esteem and 
 respect, rather than permit me, thus unguided, to 
 rush upon what you may construe into insult and 
 arrogance." 
 
 Miss Woodley went to Matilda, took her hand, 
 then wiped the tears from her eyes, while Matilda 
 reclined against her, entirely regardless of Rush- 
 brook's presence. 
 
 " If I have been in the least instrumental to this 
 sorrow," said Rushbrook, with a face as much 
 agitated as his mind. 
 
 " No," said Miss Woodley, in a low voice, " you 
 have not she is often thus." 
 
 " Yes," said Matilda, raising her head, " I am 
 frequently so weak, that I cannot resist the smallest 
 incitement to grief. But do not make your visit 
 long, Mr. Rushbrook," she continued; " for I was 
 just then thinking, that should Lord Elmwood hear 
 of this attention you have paid me, it might be fatal 
 to you." Here she wept again, as bitterly as 
 before. 
 
 " There is no probability of his hearing of it, 
 madam," Rushbrook replied : " or if there was, I 
 am persuaded that he would not resent it ; for 
 yesterday, when I am confident he knew that Mr. 
 Sandford had been to see you, he received him on 
 his return with unusual marks of kindness." 
 
 " Did he I " said she and again she lifted up her 
 head ; her eyes for a moment beaming with hope 
 and joy. 
 
 " There is something which we cannot yet de- 
 fine," said Rushbrook, " that Lord Elmwood strug- 
 gles with ; but when time shall have eradicated" 
 
 Before he could proceed further, Matilda waa 
 vol. xxvm. 2 F
 
 5)26 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 once more sunk into despondency, and scarcely 
 attended to what he was saying. 
 
 Miss Woodley, observing this, said, " Mr. Rush- 
 brook, let it be a token we shall be glad to see you 
 hereafter, that I now use the freedom to beg you 
 will put an end to your visit." 
 
 " You send me away, madam," returned he, 
 " with the warmest thanks for the reception you 
 have given me ; and this last assurance of your kind- 
 ness is beyond any other favour you could have 
 bestowed. Lady Matilda," added he, " suffer me 
 to take your hand at parting, and let it be a testi- 
 mony that you acknowledge me for a relation." 
 
 She put out her hand, which he knelt to receive, 
 but did not raise it to his lips. He held the boon 
 too sacred ; and looking earnestly upon it, as it lay 
 pale and wan in his, he breathed one sigh over it, 
 and withdrew. 
 
 CHAPTER L. 
 
 Sorrowful and affecting as this interview had 
 been, Rushbrook, as he rode home, reflected upon 
 it with the most inordinate delight ; and had he not 
 seen decline of health in the looks and behaviour of 
 Lady Matilda, his felicity had been unbounded. 
 Entranced in the happiness of her society, the 
 thought of his rival never came once to his mind 
 while he was with her: a want of recollection, how- 
 ever, he by no means regretted, as her whole ap- 
 pearance contradicted every suspicion he could 
 possibly entertain, that she favoured the addresses 
 of any man living; and had he remembered, he 
 would not have dared to name the subject.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 327 
 
 The time ran so swiftly while he was away, that, 
 it was beyond the dinner hour at Elmwood House 
 when he returned. Heated, his dress and his hair 
 disordered, he entered the dining-room just as the 
 dessert was put upon the table. He was confounded 
 at his own appearance, and at the falsehoods he 
 should be obliged to fabricate in his excuse : there 
 was yet, that which engaged his attention, beyond 
 any circumstance relating to himself the features 
 of Lord Elmwood of which his daughter's, whom 
 he had just beheld, had the most striking resem- 
 blance : though hers were softened by sorrow, while 
 his were made austere by the self-same cause. 
 
 * Where have you been?" said his uncle, with a 
 frown. 
 
 " A chase, my lord I beg your pardon but a 
 pack of dogs I unexpectedly met." For in the 
 hackneyed art of lying without injury to any one, 
 Rushbrook, to his shame, was proficient. 
 
 His excuses were received, and the subject 
 ceased. 
 
 During his absence that day, Lord Elmwood had 
 called Sandford apart, and said to him, that as 
 the malevolence which he once observed between 
 him and Rushbrook had, he perceived, subsided, 
 he advised him, if he was a wellwisher to the young 
 man, to sound his heart, and counsel him not to act 
 against the will of his nearest relation and friend. 
 " I myself am too hasty," continued Lord Elm- 
 wood ; " and, unhappily, too much determined 
 upon what I have once (though, perhaps, rashly) 
 said, to speak upon a topic where it is probable 1 
 shall meet with opposition. You, Sandford, can 
 reason with moderation. For after all that 1 have 
 done for my nephew, it would be a pity to forsake 
 him at last ; and yet, that is but loo likely, if he 
 should provoke me to it." 
 
 2 F 2
 
 328 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " Sir," replied Sandford, " I will speak to him." 
 
 " Yet," added Lord Elmwood, sternly, " do not 
 urge what you say for my sake, but for his own : I 
 can part from him with ease but he may then re- 
 pent ; and, you know, repentance always comes too 
 late with me." 
 
 " My lord, I will exert all the efforts in my power 
 for his welfare. But what is the subject on which 
 he has refused to comply with your desires ? " 
 
 " Matrimony have not I told you 1 " 
 
 " Not a word." 
 
 " I wish him to marry, that I may then conclude 
 the deeds in respect to my estate ; and the only 
 child of Sir William Winterton (a rich heiress) was 
 the wife I meant to propose : but from his indiffer- 
 ence to all I have said on the occasion, I have not 
 yet mentioned her name to him you may." 
 
 " I will, my lord, and use all my persuasion to 
 engage his obedience ; and you shall have, at least, 
 a faithful account of what he says." 
 
 Sandford the next morning sought an opportunity 
 of being alone with Rushbrook. He then plainly 
 repeated to him what Lord Elmwood had said, and 
 saw him listen to it all, and heard him answer to it 
 all, with the most tranquil resolution, " That he 
 would do any thing to preserve the friendship and 
 patronage of his uncle but marry." 
 
 " What can be your reason?" asked Sandford, 
 though he guessed. 
 
 " A reasoH I cannot give to Lord Elmwood." 
 
 " Then do not give it to me, for I have promised 
 to tell him every thing you shall say to me." 
 
 " And every thing I have said ? " asked Rush- 
 brook, hastily. 
 
 " As to what you have said, I don't know whether 
 it has made impression enough on my memory to 
 enable me to repeat it."
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 8*29 
 
 "lam glad it has not." 
 
 " And my answer to your uncle is to be, simply, 
 that you will not obey him V 
 
 " I should hope, Mr. Sandford, that you would 
 express it in better terms." 
 
 " Tell me the terms, and I will be exact." 
 
 Rushbrook struck his forehead, and walked about 
 the room. 
 
 " Am I to give him any reason for your disobey- 
 ing him ?" 
 
 " I tell you again, that I dare not name the 
 cause." 
 
 " Then why do you submit to a power you are 
 ashamed to own ? " 
 
 " I am not ashamed I glory in it. Are you 
 ashamed of your esteem for Lady Matilda 1 " 
 
 " Oh ! if she is the cause of your disobedience, 
 be assured I shall not mention it; for I am forbid to 
 name her." 
 
 " And, surely, as that is the case, I need not fear 
 to speak plainly to you. I love Lady Matilda ; 01, 
 perhaps, unacquainted with love, what I feel may be 
 only pity : and if so, pity is the most pleasing pas- 
 sion that ever possessed a human heart, and 1 would 
 not change it for all her father's estates." 
 
 " Pity, then, gives rise to very different sensa- 
 tions for I pity you, and that sensation 1 would 
 gladly exchange for approbation." 
 
 " If you really feel compassion for me, and I be- 
 lieve you do, contrive some means by your answers 
 to Lord Elmwood to pacify him, without involving 
 me in ruin. Hint at my affections being engaged, 
 but not to whom : and add, that I have given my 
 word, if he will allow me a short time, a year or two 
 only, I will, during that period, try to disengage 
 them, and use all my power to render myself worthy 
 of the union for which he designs me." 
 2 F 3
 
 330 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " And this is not only your solemn promise, but 
 your fixed determination." 
 
 " Nay, why will you search my heart to the bot- 
 tom, when the surface ought to content you?" 
 
 " If you cannot resolve on what you have pro- 
 posed, why do you ask this time of your uncle? 
 For should he allow it you, your disobedience at the 
 expiration will be less pardonable than it is now." 
 
 " Within a year, Mr. Sandford, who can tell what 
 strange events may not occur, to change all our 
 prospects ? Even my passion may decline." 
 
 " In that expectation, then, the failure of which 
 yourself must answer for, I will repeat as much of 
 this discourse as shall be proper." 
 
 Here llushbrook communicated his having been 
 to see Lady Matilda ; for which Sandford reproved 
 him, but in less rigorous terms than he generally 
 used in his reproofs : and Rushbrook, by his entrea- 
 ties, now gained the intelligence who the nobleman 
 was who addressed Matilda, and on what views ; but 
 was restrained to patience, by Sandford's arguments 
 and threats. 
 
 Upon the subject of this marriage, Sandford met 
 his patron, without having determined exactly what 
 to say ; but rested on the temper in which he should 
 find him. 
 
 At the commencement of the conversation he told 
 him, " llushbrook begged for time." 
 
 " I have given him time have I not ? " cried Lord 
 Elmwood : " what can be the meaning of his thus 
 trifling with me?" 
 
 Sandford replied, " My lord, young men are fre- 
 quently romantic in their notions of love, and think 
 it impossible to have a sincere affection where theisr 
 own inclinations do not first point out the choice." 
 " If he is in love," answered Lord Elmwood, 
 " let him take the object, and leave my house and
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 331 
 
 me for ever. Nor under this destiny can he have 
 any claim to pity ; for genuine love will make him 
 happy in banishment, in poverty, or in sickness : it 
 makes the poor man happy as the rich, the fool 
 blest as the wise." The sincerity with which Lord 
 Elniwood had loved was expressed, as he said this, 
 more than in words. 
 
 " Your lordship is talking," replied Sandford, 
 " of the passion in its most refined and predominant 
 sense, while I may possibly be speaking of a mere 
 phantom that has led this young man astray." 
 
 " Whatever it be," returned Lord Elmwood, " let 
 him and his friends weigh the case well, and act for 
 the best so shall I." 
 
 " His friends, my lord ! What friends, or what 
 friend has he upon earth but you ? " 
 
 " Then why will he not submit to my advice, or 
 himself give me a proper reason why he cannot 1 " 
 
 " Because there may be friendship without fami- 
 liarity ; and so it is between him and you." 
 
 '* That cannot be ; for I have condescended to 
 talk to him in the most familiar terms." 
 
 " To condescend, my lord, is not to be familiar." 
 
 " Then come, sir, let us be on an equal footing 
 through you. And now speak out his thoughts 
 freely, and hear mine in return." 
 
 " Why then, he begs a respite for a year or two." 
 
 " On what pretence V 
 
 " To me, it was preference of a single life ; but I 
 suspect it is, what he imagines to be, love, and for 
 some object whom he thinks your lordship would 
 disapprove." 
 
 " He has not, then, actually confessed this to 
 you?" 
 
 " If he has, it was drawn from him by such means, 
 that I am not warranted to say it in direct words." 
 
 " 1 have entered into no contract, no agreement
 
 332 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 on his account with the friends of the lady I have 
 pointed out," said Lord Elmwood : " nothing beyond 
 implications have passed betwixt her family and 
 myself at present; and if the person on whom he 
 has fixed his affections should not be in a situ- 
 ation absolutely contrary to my wishes, I may, 
 perhaps, confirm his choice." 
 
 That moment Sandford's courage prompted him 
 to name Lady Matilda, but his discretion opposed. 
 However, in the various changes of his counte- 
 nance from the conflict, it was plain to discern that 
 he wished to say more than he dared. 
 
 On which Lord Elmwood cried, 
 
 " Speak on, Sandford ; what are you afraid of? " 
 
 " Of you, my lord." 
 
 He started. 
 
 Sandford went on : "I know no tie, no bond, 
 no innocence, that is a protection when you feel 
 resentment." 
 
 " You are right," he replied, significantly. 
 
 " Then how, my lord, can you encourage me to 
 speak on, when that which I perhaps should say 
 might offend you to hear ? " 
 
 " To what, and whither are you changing our 
 subject?" cried Lord Elmwood. " But, sir, if you 
 know my resentful and relentless temper, you surely 
 know how to shun it." 
 
 " Not, and speak plainly." 
 
 " Then dissemble." 
 
 " No, I'll not do that ; but I'll be silent." 
 
 " A new parade of submission. You are more 
 tormenting to me than any one I have about me; 
 constantly on the verge of disobeying my orders, 
 that you may recede, and gain my good will by your 
 forbearance. But know, Mr. Sandford, that I will 
 not suffer this much longer. If you choose in every 
 conversation we have together (though the most
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 333 
 
 remote from such a topic) to think of my daughter, 
 you must either banish your thoughts, or conceal 
 them ; nor by one sign, one item, remind me of 
 her." 
 
 " Your daughter did you call her? Can you call 
 yourself her father?' 
 
 " I do, sir : but I was likewise the husband of her 
 mother. And, as that husband, I solemnly swear " 
 He was proceeding with violence. 
 
 " Oh ! my lord," cried Sandford, interrupting 
 him, with his hands clasped in the most fervent sup- 
 plication " Oh ! do not let me draw upon her one 
 oath more of your eternal displeasure. I'll kneel to 
 beg that you will drop the subject." 
 
 The inclination he made, with his knees bent to- 
 wards the ground, stopped Lord Elmwood instantly. 
 But though it broke in upon his words, it did not 
 alter one angry look : his eyes darted, and his lips 
 trembled with, indignation. 
 
 Sandford, in order to appease him, bowed and 
 offered to withdraw, hoping to be recalled. He 
 wished in vain : Lord Elmwood's eyes followed him 
 to the door, expressive of the joy he should receive 
 from his absence. 
 
 CHAPTER LI. 
 
 The companions and counsellors of Lord Margrave, 
 who had so prudently advised gentle methods in the 
 pursuit of his passion, while there was left any hope 
 of their success ; now, convinced there was none, 
 as strenuously recommended open violence ; and 
 sheltered under the consideration, that their depre- 
 dations were to be practised upon a defenceless 
 woman, who had not one protector, except an old
 
 334 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 priest, the subject of their ridieule ; assured like 
 wise from the influence of Lord Margrave's wealth, 
 that all inferior consequences could be overborne, 
 they saw no room for fears on any side ; and what 
 they wished to execute, they with care and skill 
 premeditated. 
 
 When their scheme was mature for performance, 
 three of his chosen companions, and three servants, 
 trained in all the villanous exploits of their masters, 
 set off for the habitation of poor Matilda, and arrived 
 there about the twilight of the evening. 
 
 Near four hours after that time (just as the family 
 were going to bed), they came up to the doors of the 
 house, and, rapping violently, gave the alarm of fire, 
 conjuring all the inhabitants to make their way out 
 immediately, as they would save their lives. 
 
 The family consisted of few persons, all of whom 
 ran instantly to the doors and opened them ; on 
 which two men rushed in, and with the plea of 
 saving Lady Matilda from the pretended flames, 
 caught her in their arms, and carried her oft"; 
 while all the deceived people of the house, running 
 eagerly to save themselves, paid no regard to her ; 
 till looking for the cause for which they had been 
 terrified, they perceived the stratagem, and the fatal 
 consequences. 
 
 Amidst the complaints, the sorrow, and the affright 
 of the people of the farm, Miss Woodley's sensa- 
 tions wanted a name. Terror and anguish give but a 
 faint description of what she suffered : something 
 like the approach of death stole over her senses, and 
 she sat like one petrified with horror. She had no 
 doubt who was the perpetrator of this wickedness ; 
 but how was she to follow ; how effect a rescue ? 
 
 The circumstances of this event, as soon as the 
 people had time to call up their recollection, were 
 sent to a neighbouring magistrate ; but little could
 
 A SIMPLH STORY. 335 
 
 be hoped from that. Who was to swear to the 
 robber? Who undertake to rind him out? Miss 
 Woodley thought of Rushbrook, of Sandford, of 
 Lord Elrawood ; but what could she hope from the 
 want of power in the two former ? what from the 
 latter, for the want of will? Now stupified, and 
 now distracted, she walked about the house inces- 
 santly, begging for instructions how to act or how 
 to forget her misery. 
 
 A tenant of Lord Elmwood's, who occupied a 
 little farm near to that where Lady Matilda lived, 
 and who was well acquainted with the whole history 
 of her and her mother's misfortunes, was returning 
 from a neighbouring fair just as this inhuman plan 
 was put in execution. He heard the cries of a 
 woman in distress, and followed the sound, till he 
 arrived at a chaise in waiting, and saw Matilda 
 placed in it by the side of two men, who presented 
 pistols to him as he offered to approach and ex- 
 postulate. 
 
 The farmer, though uncertain who this female 
 was, yet went to the house she had been taken from 
 (as the nearest) with the tale of what he had seen j 
 and there, being informed it was Lady Matilda 
 whom he had beheld, this intelligence, joined to the 
 powerful effect her screams had on him, made him 
 resolve to take horse immediately, and, with some 
 friends, follow the carriage till they should trace the 
 place to which she was conveyed. 
 
 The anxiety, the firmness discovered in determin- 
 ing upon this undertaking, somewhat alleviated the 
 agony Miss Woodley endured ; and she began to 
 hope timely assistance might yet be given to her 
 beloved charge. 
 
 The man set out, meaning at all events to attempt 
 her release ; but before he had proceeded far, the few 
 friends that accompanied him began to reflect on
 
 330 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 the improbability of their success, against a noble- 
 man, surrounded by servants, with other attendants 
 likewise, and, perhaps, even countenanced by the 
 father of the lady, whom they presumed to take 
 from him : or if not, while Lord Elmwood beheld 
 the offence with indifference, that indifference gave 
 it a sanction they might in vain oppose. These 
 cool reflections tending to their safety, had their 
 weight with the companions of the farmer: they all 
 rode back, rejoicing at their second thoughts, and 
 left him to pursue his journey and prove his valour 
 by himself. 
 
 CHAPTER LII. 
 
 It was not with Sandford as it had lately been with 
 Rushbrook under the displeasure of Lord Elmwood : 
 to the latter he behaved, as soon as their dissen- 
 sion was past, as if it had never happened. But to 
 Sandford it was otherwise: the resentment which he 
 had repressed at the time of the offence, lurked in 
 his heart, and dwelt upon his mind for several days; 
 during which he carefully avoided exchanging a 
 word with him, and gave other demonstrations of 
 being still in enmity. 
 
 Sandford, though experienced in the cruelty and 
 ingratitude of the world, yet could not without dif- 
 ficulty brook this severity, this contumely, from a 
 man, for whose welfare, ever since his infancy, he 
 had laboured; and whose happiness was more dear 
 to him, in spite of all his faults, than that of any 
 other person. Even Lady Matilda was not so dear 
 to Sandford as her father ; and he loved her more 
 that she was Lord Elmwood's child, than for any 
 other cause.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 337 
 
 Sometimes the old priest, incensed beyond bear- 
 ing, was on the point of saying to his patron, "How, 
 in my age, dare you thus treat the man whom in his 
 youth you respected and revered ? " 
 
 Sometimes, instead of anger, he felt the tear, he 
 was ashamed to own, steal to his eye, and even fall 
 down his cheek. Sometimes he left the room half 
 determined to leave the house : but these were all 
 half determinations ; for he knew him with whom he 
 had to deal too well, not to know that he might be 
 provoked into yet greater anger ; and that should he 
 once rashly quit his house, the doors, most proba- 
 bly, would be shut against him for ever after. 
 
 In this humiliating state (lor even the domestics 
 could not but observe their lord's displeasure) Sand- 
 ford passed three days, and was beginning the 
 fourth, when sitting with Lord Elmwood and 
 Rushbrook just after breakfast, a servant entered, 
 saying, as he opened the door, to somebody who 
 followed, " You must wait till you have my lord's 
 permission." 
 
 This attracted their eyes to the door, and a man 
 meanly dressed walked in, following close to the 
 servant. 
 
 The latter turned, and seemed again to desire the 
 person to retire, but in vain : he rushed forward re- 
 gardless ofhis opposer, and, in great agitation, said, 
 
 " My lord, if you please, 1 have business with 
 you, provided you will choose to be alone." 
 
 Lord Elmwood, struck with the intruder's earnest- 
 ness, bade the servant leave the room ; and then 
 said to the stranger, 
 
 " You may speak before these gentlemen." 
 
 The man instantly turned pale, and trembled 
 then, to prolong the time before he spoke, went to 
 the door to see if it was shut returned yet, still 
 trembling, seemed unwilling to say his errand. 
 
 VOL. XX VI II. 2 G
 
 338 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " What have you done," cried Lord Elmwood, 
 " that you are in this terror ? What have you done, 
 man?" 
 
 " Nothing, my lord," replied he; " but I am afraid 
 I am going to offend you." 
 
 "Well, no matter," he answered carelessly ; " only 
 go on, and let me know your business." 
 
 The man's distress increased ; and he replied, 
 in a voice of grief and affright, " Your child, my 
 lord !" 
 
 Rushbrook and Sandford started ; and, looking 
 at Lord Elmwood, saw him turn white as death. In 
 a tremulous voice he instantly cried, 
 
 " What of her?" and rose from his seat. 
 
 Encouraged by the question, and the agitation 
 of him who asked it, the poor man gave way 
 to his feelings, and answered with every sign of 
 sorrow, 
 
 " I saw her, my lord, taken away by force : two 
 ruffians seized and carried her away, while she 
 screamed in vain to me for help, and looked like 
 one in distraction." 
 
 " Man, what do you mean?" cried the earl. 
 
 " Lord Margrave," replied the stranger, " we 
 have no doubt, has formed this plot : he has for 
 some time past beset the house where she lived ; 
 and, when his visits were refused, he threatened this. 
 Besides, one of his servants attended the carriage : 
 I saw, and knew him." 
 
 Lord Elmwood listened to the last part of this 
 account with seeming composure : then turning 
 hastily to Rushbrook, he said, 
 
 " Where are my pistols, Harry?" 
 
 Sandford forgot, at this instant, all the anger that 
 had passed between him and the earl : he rushed 
 towards him, and grasping his hand, cried, " Will 
 you then prove yourself a father ? "
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 339 
 
 Lord Elmwood only answered, " Yes," and left 
 the room. 
 
 Rushbrook followed, and begged, with all the 
 earnestness he felt, to be permitted to accompany 
 his uncle. 
 
 While Sandford shook hands with the farmer a 
 thousand times ; and he, in his turn, rejoiced, as 
 if he had already seen Lady Matilda restored to 
 liberty. 
 
 Rushbrook in vain entreated Lord Elmwood : he 
 laid his commands upon him not to go a step from 
 the castle ; while the agitation of his own mind was 
 too great to observe the rigour of this sentence on 
 his nephew. 
 
 During hasty preparations for the earl's depar- 
 ture, Sandford received from Miss Woodley the sad 
 intelligence of what had occurred ; but he returned 
 an answer to recompense her for all she had suffered 
 on the sad occasion. 
 
 Within a short hour Lord Elmwood set off, ac- 
 companied by his guide, the farmer, and other at- 
 tendants furnished with every requisite to ascertain 
 the success of their enterprize : while poor Matilda 
 little thought of a deliverer nigh ; much less, that 
 her deliverer should prove her father. 
 
 CHAPTER L1II. 
 
 Lord Margrave, black as this incident of his life 
 must make him appear to the reader, still nursed in 
 his conscience a reserve of specious virtue, to keep 
 him in peace with himself. It was his design to 
 plead, to argue, to implore, nay even to threaten, 
 long before he put his threats in force ; and with 
 this and the following reflection, he reconciled as 
 2 G 2
 
 340 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 most bad men can what he had done, not only to 
 the laws of humanity, but to the laws of honour. 
 
 " 1 have stolen a woman certainly," said he to 
 himself, " but I will make her happier than she was 
 in that humble state from which 1 have taken her. 
 1 will even," said he, "now that she is in my 
 power, win her affections ; and when, in fondness, 
 hereafter she hangs upon me, how will she thank me 
 for this little trial, through which I shall have con- 
 ducted her to happiness!" 
 
 Thus did he hush his remorse, while he waited 
 impatiently at home, in expectation of his prize. 
 
 Half expiring with her sufferings, of body as well 
 as of mind, about twelve o'clock the next night, 
 after she was borne away, Matilda arrived ; and felt 
 her spirits revive by the superior sufferings that 
 awaited her ; for her increasing terrors roused her 
 from the death-like weakness brought on by extreme 
 fatigue. 
 
 Lord Margrave's house, to which he had gone 
 previous to this occasion, was situated in the lonely 
 part of a well-known forest, not more than twenty 
 miles distant from London. This was an estate he 
 rarely visited ; and as he had but few servants 
 here, it was a spot which he supposed would be 
 less the object of suspicion in the present case, than 
 any other of his seats. To this, then, Lady Matilda 
 was conveyed a superb apartment allotted her 
 and one of his confidential females placed to attend 
 upon her person, with all respect and assurances 
 of safety. 
 
 Matilda looked in this woman's face, and seeing 
 she bore the features of her sex, while her own 
 knowledge reached none of those worthless cha- 
 racters of which this creature was a specimen, she 
 imagined that none of those could look as she did, 
 and therefore found consolation in her seeming ten-
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 341 
 
 derness. She was even prevailed upon (by her 
 promises to sit by her side and watch) to throw her- 
 self on a bed, and suffer sleep for a few minutes 
 for sleep to her was suffering ; her fears giving birth 
 to dreams terrifying as her waking thoughts. 
 
 More wearied than refreshed with her sleep, she 
 rose at break of day ; and, refusing to admit of the 
 change of an article in her dress, she persisted to 
 wear the torn disordered habiliment in which she 
 had been dragged away : nor would she taste a mor- 
 sel of all the delicacies that were prepared for her. 
 
 Her attendant for some time observed the most 
 reverential awe ; but finding this humility had not 
 the effect of gaining compliance with her advice, 
 she varied her manners, and began by less submissive 
 means to attempt an influence. She said her orders 
 were to be obedient, while she herself was obeyed 
 at least in circumstances so material as the lady's 
 health, of which she had the charge as a physician, 
 and expected equal compliance from her patient. 
 Food and fresh apparel she prescribed as the only 
 means to prevent death ; and even threatened her 
 invalid with something worse, a visit from Lord 
 Margrave, if she continued obstinate. 
 
 Now loathing her for the deception she had prac- 
 tised, more than had she received her thus at first, 
 Matilda hid her eyes from the sight of her ; and, 
 when she was obliged to look, she shuddered. 
 
 This female at length thought it her duty to wait 
 upon her worthy employer, and inform him the 
 young lady in her trust would certainly die, unless 
 there were means employed to oblige her to take 
 some nourishment. 
 
 Lord Margrave, glad of an opportunity that might 
 apologize for his intrusion upon Lady Matilda, went 
 with eagerness to her apartment ; and, throwinghim- 
 2 G 3
 
 34*2 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 self at her feet conjured her, if she would save his 
 life, as well as her own, to submit to be consoled. 
 
 The extreme aversion, the horror which his pre- 
 sence inspired, caused Matilda for a moment to 
 forget all her want of power, her want of health, her 
 weakness ; and rising from the place where she sat, 
 she cried, with her voice elevated, 
 
 " Leave me, my lord, or I'll die in spite of all 
 your care. I'll instantly expire with grief, if you do 
 not leave me." 
 
 Accustomed to the tears and reproaches of the 
 sex, though not of those like her, he treated with 
 indifference these menaces of anger, and, seizing her 
 hand, carried it to his lips. 
 
 Enraged, and overwhelmed with terror at the 
 affront, she exclaimed (forgetting every other friend 
 she had), " Oh ! my dear Miss Woodley, why are 
 you not here to protect me V 
 
 " Nay," returned Lord Margrave, stifling a pro- 
 pensity to laugh, " I should think the old priest 
 would be as good a champion as the lady." 
 
 The remembrance of Sandford, with all his kind- 
 ness, now rushed so forcibly on Matilda's mind, that 
 she shed tears, from the certainty how much he 
 felt, and would continue to feel, for her situation. 
 Once she thought on Rushbrook, and thought even 
 he would be sorry for her. Of her father she did 
 not think she dared not : one single moment, in- 
 deed, that thought had intruded; but she hurried it 
 away it was too bitter. 
 
 It was now again quite night, and near to that 
 hour when she came first to the house. Lord Mar- 
 grave, though at some distance from her, remained 
 still in her apartment, while her female companion 
 had stolen away. His insensibility to her lamenta- 
 tions the agitated looks he sometimes cast upon
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 343 
 
 her her weak and defenceless state all conspired 
 to fill her mind with increasing horror. 
 
 He saw her apprehensions in her distracted face, 
 dishevelled hair, and the whole of her forlorn ap- 
 pearance ; yet, in spite of his former resolutions, he 
 did not resist the wish of fulfilling all her dreadful 
 expectations. 
 
 He once again approached her, and again was 
 going to seize her hand ; when the report of a 
 pistol, and a confused noise of persons assembling 
 towards the door of the apartment, caused him to 
 desist. 
 
 He started but looked more surprised than 
 alarmed her alarm was augmented ; for she sup- 
 posed this tumult was some experiment to intimi- 
 date her into submission. She wrung her hands, 
 and lifted up her eyes to Heaven, in the last agony 
 of despair, when one of Lord Margrave's servants 
 entered hastily, and announced 
 
 " Lord Elmwood ! " 
 
 That moment her father entered and, with all 
 the unrestrained fondness of a parent, folded her in 
 his arms. 
 
 Her extreme, her excess of joy on such a meet- 
 ing, and from such anguish rescued, was, in part, 
 repressed by his awful presence. The apprehen- 
 sions to which she had been accustomed kept her 
 timid and doubtful : she feared to speak, or clasp 
 him in return for his embrace, but, falling on her 
 knees, clung round his legs, and bathed his feet with 
 her tears. These were the happiest moments that 
 she had ever known ; perhaps, the happiest he had 
 ever known. 
 
 Lord Margrave, on whom Lord Elmwood had not 
 even cast a look, now left the room ; but, as he quit- 
 ted it, called out,
 
 344 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " My Lord Elmwood, if you have any demands 
 
 The earl interrupted him : " Would you make 
 me an executioner ? The law shall be your only an- 
 tagonist." 
 
 Matilda, quite exhausted, yet upheld by the sud- 
 den transport she had felt, was led by her father out 
 of this wretched dwelling more despicable than the 
 hovel of the veriest beggar. 
 
 CHAPTER LIV. 
 
 Overcome with the want of rest for two nights, 
 through her distracting fears, and all those fears now 
 hushed ; Matilda, soon after she was placed in the 
 carriage with Lord Elmwood, dropped fast asleep ; 
 and thus, insensibly surprised, she leaned her 
 head against her father in the sweetest slumber that 
 imagination can conceive. 
 
 When she awoke, instead of the usual melancholy 
 scene before her view, she beheld her father ; and 
 heard the voice of the once dreaded Lord Elmwood 
 tenderly saying, 
 
 " We will go no further to-night : the fatigue is 
 to^ much for her. Order beds here directly, and 
 some proper person to sit up and attend her." 
 
 She could only turn to him with a look of love 
 and duty : her lips could not utter a sentence. 
 
 In the morning she found her father by the side 
 of her bed. He inquired " if she was in health suf- 
 ficient to pursue her journey, or if she would remain 
 at the inn where she was." 
 
 *' I am able to go with you," she answered in- 
 stantly.
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 345 
 
 " Nay," replied he, " perhaps you ought to stay 
 here till you are perfectly recovered V 
 
 " I am recovered," said she, " and ready to go 
 with you," fearful that he meant to separate from 
 her, as he had ever done. 
 
 He perceived her fears, and replied, " Nay, if 
 you stay, I shall do the same and, when I go, shall 
 take you with me to my house." 
 
 " To Elmwood House?" she asked eagerly. 
 
 " No, to my house in town, where I intend to be 
 all the winter, and where you shall still continue 
 under my care." 
 
 She turned her face on the pillow to conceal tears 
 of joy, but her sobs revealed them. 
 
 " Come," said he, " this kiss is a token you have 
 nothing to dread. I shall send for Miss Woodley 
 too immediately," continued he. 
 
 " Oh ! I shall be overjoyed to see her, ray lord 
 and to see Mr. Sandford and even Mr. Rush- 
 brook." 
 
 " Do you know him ? " said Lord Elmwood. 
 
 " I have seen him two or three times." 
 
 The earl, hoping the air might be a means of re- 
 establishing her health and spirits, now left the 
 room and ordered his carriage to be prepared : 
 while she arose, attended by one of his female ser- 
 vants, for whom he had sent to town, to bring such 
 changes of apparel as were requisite. 
 
 When Matilda was ready to join her father in the 
 next room, she felt a tremor seize her, that made it 
 almost impossible to appear before him. No other 
 circumstance now impending to agitate her heart, 
 she felt more forcibly its embarrassment at meeting, 
 on terms of easy intercourse, him of whom she had 
 never been used to think but with that distant re- 
 verence and fear which his severity had excited ; 
 and she knew not how she should dare to speak to
 
 346 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 or look on him with that freedom which her affec- 
 tion warranted. 
 
 After many efforts to conquer these nice and re- 
 fined sensations, but to no purpose, she at last went 
 to his apartment. He was reading ; but, as she 
 entered, he put out his hand and drew her to him. 
 Her tears wholly overcame her. He could hate 
 intermingled his: but assuming a grave counte- 
 nance, he entreated her to desist from exhausting 
 her spirits; and, after a few powerful struggles, she 
 obeyed. 
 
 Before the morning was over, she experienced 
 the extreme joy of sitting by her father's side as 
 they drove to town, and of receiving, during his 
 conversation, a thousand intimations of his love, and 
 tokens of her lasting happiness. 
 
 It was now the middle of November ; and yet, as 
 Matilda passed along, never to her did the sun shine 
 so bright as upon this morning never did her ima- 
 gination comprehend that the human heart could 
 feel happiness true and genuine as hers ! 
 
 On arriving at the house, there was no abatement 
 of her felicity : all was respect and duty on the 
 part of the domestics- all paternal care on the part 
 of Lord Elmwood ; and she would have been at 
 that summit of her wishes which annihilates hope, 
 but that the prospect of seeing Miss Woodley and 
 Mr. Sandford still kept this passion in existence. 
 
 CHAPTER LV. 
 
 Rushbrook was detained at Elmwood House during 
 all this time, more by the persuasions, nay prayers, 
 of Sandford than the commands of Lord Elmwood. 
 He had, but for Sandford, followed his uncle,
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 347 
 
 and exposed himself to his anger, sooner than have 
 endured the most piercing inquietude which he was 
 doomed to suffer till the news arrived of Lady Ma- 
 tilda's safety. He indeed had little else to fear from 
 the known firm, courageous character of her father, 
 and the expedition with which he undertook his 
 journey : but lovers' fears are like those of women, 
 obstinate ; and no argument could persuade either 
 him or Miss Woodley (who had now ventured to 
 come to Elmwood House), but that Matilda's peace 
 of mind might be for ever destroyed before she was 
 rescued from her danger. 
 
 The summons from Lord Elmwood for their com- 
 ing to town, was received by each of this party with 
 delight ; but the impatience to obey it was in Rush- 
 brook so violent, it was painful to himself, and ex- 
 tremely troublesome to Sandford ; who wished, from 
 his regard to Lady Matilda, rather to delay than 
 hurry their journey. 
 
 " You are to blame," said he to him and Miss 
 Woodley, " to wish, by your arrival, to divide with 
 Lord Elmwood that tender bond which ties the 
 good, who confer obligations, to the object of their 
 benevolence. At present there is no one with him 
 to share in the care and protection of his daughter, 
 and he is under the necessity of discharging that 
 duty himself: this habit may become so powerful, 
 that he cannot throw it off, even if his former reso- 
 lutions should urge him to it. While we remain 
 here, therefore, Lady Matilda is safe with her fa- 
 ther ; but it would not surprise me, if on our arrival 
 (especially if we are precipitate) he should place 
 her again with Miss Woodley at a distance." 
 
 To this forcible conjecture they submitted for a 
 few days, and then most gladly set out for town. 
 
 On their arrival, they were met, even at the 
 street-door, by Lady Matilda; and, with an expres-
 
 348 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 sion of joy they did not suppose her features could 
 have woru, she embraced Miss Woodley ! hung 
 upon Sandford ! and to Mr. Rushbrook, who from 
 his conscious love only bowed at an humble dis- 
 tance, she held out her hand with every look and 
 gesture of the tenderest esteem. 
 
 When Lord Elmwood joined them, he welcomed 
 them all sincerely ; but Sandford more than the rest, 
 with whom he had not spoken for many days before 
 he left the country, for his allusion to the wretched 
 situation of his daughter and Sandford (with his 
 fellow-travellers) now saw him treat that daughter 
 with an easy, a natural fondness, as if she had lived 
 with him from her infancy. He appeared, however, 
 at times, under the apprehension that the propen- 
 sity of man to jealousy might give Rushbrook a 
 pang at this dangerous rival in his love and fortune. 
 For though Lord Elmwood remembered well the 
 hazard he had once ventured to befriend Matilda, 
 yet the present unlimited reconciliation was some- 
 thing so unlooked for, it might be a trial too much 
 for his generosity. Slight as was this suspicion, it 
 did Rushbrook injustice. He loved Lady Matilda 
 too sincerely, he loved her father's happiness and 
 her mother's memory too faithfully, not to be re- 
 joiced at all he witnessed : nor could the secret hope 
 that whispered him, " their blessings might one 
 day be mutual," increase the pleasure he found in 
 beholding Matilda happy. 
 
 Unexpected affairs, in which Lord Elmwood had 
 been for some time engaged, had diverted his atten- 
 tion for a while from the marriage of his nephew : 
 nor did he at this time find his disposition sufficient- 
 ly severe, to exact from the young man a compli- 
 ance with his wishes, at so cruel an alternative as 
 that of being for ever discarded. He felt his mind, 
 by the late incident, too much softened for such
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 340 
 
 harshness : he yet wished for the alliance he had 
 proposed ; for he was more consistent in his cha- 
 racter than to suffer the tenderness his daughter's 
 peril had awakened, to derange those plans which 
 he had long projected. Never, even now, for a mo- 
 ment did he indulge for perhaps it would have 
 been an indulgence the design of replacing her 
 exactly in the rights of her birth, to the disappoint- 
 ment of all his nephew's expectations. 
 
 Yet, milder at this crisis in his temper than he had 
 been for years before, and knowing he could be no 
 longer irritated upon the subject of neglect to his 
 child, he at length once more resolved to trust him- 
 self in a conference with Rushbrook on the plan of 
 his marriage ; meaning at the same time to mention 
 Matilda as an opponent from whom he had nothing 
 to fear. But, for some time before Rushbrook was 
 called to this private audience, he had, by his un- 
 wearied attention, endeavoured to impress upon 
 Matilda's mind the softest sentiments in his favour. 
 He succeeded but not so fully as he wished. 
 She loved him as her friend, her cousin, her foster- 
 brother, but not as a lover. The idea of love never 
 once came to her thoughts ; and she would sport 
 with Rushbrook like the most harmless infant, while 
 he, all impassioned, could with difficulty resist dis- 
 closing to her what she made him suffer. 
 
 At the meeting between him and Lord Elmwood, 
 to which he was called for his final answer on that 
 subject, which had once nearly proved so fatal to 
 him ; after a thousand fears, much confusion and 
 embarrassment, he at length frankly confessed his 
 " heart was engaged, and had been so long before 
 his uncle offered to direct his choice.'' 
 
 Lord Elmwood, as he had done formerly, desired 
 to know, " on whom he had placed his affections." 
 
 " I dare not tell you, my lord," returned he ; 
 
 VOL. XXVITI. 2 H
 
 350 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 " but Mr. Sandford can witness their sincerity, and 
 how lqjig they have been fixed." 
 
 ** Fixed !" cried the earl. 
 
 " Immoveably fixed, my lord; and yet the object 
 is as unconscious of my love to this moment, as you 
 yourself have been ; and I swear ever shall be so, 
 without your permission." 
 
 f Name the object," said Lord Elmwood anxi- 
 ously. 
 
 " My lord, I dare not. The last time I named 
 her to you, you threatened to abandon me for my 
 arrogance." 
 
 Lord Elmwood started " My daughter ! 
 
 Would you marry her'" 
 
 " But with your approbation, my lord ; and 
 that " 
 
 Before he could proceed a word further, his uncle 
 left the room hastily ; and left Rushbrook all terror 
 for his approaching fate. 
 
 Lord Elmwood went immediately into the apart- 
 ment where Sandford, Miss Woodley, and Matilda, 
 were sitting, and cried with an angry voice, and 
 with his countenance disordered, 
 
 " Rushbrook has offended me beyond forgiveness. 
 Go, Sandford, to the library, where he is, and tell 
 him this instant to quit my house, and never dare to 
 return." 
 
 Miss Woodley lifted up her hands and sighed. 
 
 Sandford rose slowly from his seat to execute the 
 office; 
 
 While Lady Matilda, who was arranging her 
 music books upon the instrument, stopped from her 
 employment suddenly, and held her handkerchief to 
 her eyes. 
 
 A general silence ensued, till Lord Elmwood, re- 
 suming his angry tone, cried, " Did vou hear me, 
 Mr. Sandford ?"
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 361 
 
 Sandford now, without a word in reply, made for 
 the door ; but there Matilda impeded him, and, 
 throwing her arms about his neck, cried, 
 
 " Dear Mr. Sandford, do not." 
 
 " How !" exclaimed her father. 
 
 She saw the impending frown, and, rushing to- 
 wards him, took his hand fearfully, and knelt at his 
 feet. " Mr. Rushbrook is my relation," she cried in 
 a pathetic voice, " my companion, my friend : be- 
 fore you loved me he was anxious for my happiness, 
 and often visited me to lament with and console me. 
 I cannot see him turned out of your house without 
 feeling for him what he once felt for me." 
 
 Lord Elmwood turned aside to conceal his sensa- 
 tions : then raising her from the floor, he said, " Do 
 you know what he has asked of me 1 " 
 
 " No," answered she in the utmost ignorance, 
 and with the utmost innocence painted on her face ; 
 " but whatever it is, my lord, though you do not 
 grant it, yet pardon him for asking." 
 
 " Perhaps you would grant him what he has re- 
 quested ?" said her father. 
 
 " Most willingly was it in my gift." 
 
 " It is," replied he. " Go to him in the library, 
 and hear what he has to say ; for on your will his 
 fate shall depend.'' 
 
 Like lightning she flew out of the room ; while 
 even the grave Sandford smiled at the idea of their 
 meeting. 
 
 Rushbrook, with his fears all verirkfcl by the man- 
 ner in which his uncle had left him, sat with his 
 head reclined against a book-case, and every limb 
 extended with the despair that had seized him. 
 
 Matilda nimbly opened the door and cried, " Mr. 
 Rushbrook, I am come to comfort you." 
 
 " That you have always done," said he, rising in
 
 352 A SIMPLE STORY. 
 
 rapture to receive her, even in the midst of all his 
 sadness. 
 
 " What is it you want ?" said she. " What have 
 you asked of my father, that he has denied you ? " 
 
 " I have asked for that," replied he, " which is 
 dearer to me than my life." 
 
 " Be satisfied then," returned she ; " for you shall 
 have it." 
 
 " Dear Matilda ! it is not in your power to be- 
 stow." 
 
 " But he has told me it shall be in my power ; 
 and has desired me to give or to refuse it you, at 
 my own pleasure." 
 
 " O Heavens ! " cried Rushbrook in transport, 
 " has he ? " 
 
 " He has indeed before Mr. Sandford and Miss 
 Woodley. Now tell me what you petitioned for?" 
 
 " I asked him," cried Rushbrook, trembling, 
 " for a wife." 
 
 Her hand, which had just then taken hold of his, 
 in the warmth of her wish to serve him, now dropped 
 down as with the stroke of death her face lost its 
 colour and she leaned against the desk by which 
 they were standing without uttering a word. 
 
 " What means this change?" said he. " Do you 
 not wish me happy?" 
 
 " Yes," she exclaimed "Heaven is my witness ; 
 but it gives me concern to think we must part." 
 
 " Then let us be joined," cried he, falling at her 
 feet, " till death alone can part us." 
 
 All the sensibility the reserve the pride, with 
 which she was so amply possessed, returned to her 
 that moment. She started back, and cried, " Could 
 Lord Elrawood know for what he sent me ?" 
 
 " He did," replied Rushbrook" I boldly told 
 him of my presumptuous love ; and he has given to
 
 A SIMPLE STORY. 353 
 
 you alone, the power over my happiness or misery. 
 Oh ! do not doom me to the latter." 
 
 Whether the heart of Matilda, such as it has been 
 described, could sentence him to misery, the reader 
 is left to surmise ; and if he supposes that it could 
 not , he has every reason to suppose that their wed- 
 ded life was a life of happiness. 
 
 He has beheld the pernicious effects of an impro- 
 per education in the destiny which attended the un- 
 thinking Miss Milner. On the opposite side, what 
 may not be hoped from that school of prudence, 
 though of adversity, in which Matilda was bred I 
 
 And Mr. Milner, Matilda's grandfather, had bet- 
 ter have given bis fortune to a distant branch of his 
 family, as Matilda's father once meant to do, so 
 that he had given to his daughter 
 
 A PROPER EDUCATION. 
 
 THE END OF VOL. XXVIII. 
 
 Ellcrton and Hemlerton, Prime. 
 Johnson's Court, London.
 
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