CHAPTER V.
Of the many restless nights that Miss Milner passed, this was not one.It is true, she had a weight of care upon her heart, even heavier thanusual, but the burden had overcome her strength: wearied out with hopes,with fears, and, at the end, with disappointment and rage, she sunk atonce into a deep slumber. But the more forgetfulness had then prevailed,the more powerful was the force of remembrance when she awoke. At first,so sound her sleep had been, that she had a difficulty in calling tomind why she was unhappy; but that she _was_ unhappy she wellrecollected--when the cause came to her memory, she would have sleptagain--but it was impossible.
Though her rest had been sound, it had not been refreshing--she was farfrom well, and sent word of her indisposition, as an apology for notbeing present at breakfast. Lord Elmwood looked concerned when themessage was delivered--Mr. Sandford shook his head.
"Miss Milner's health is not good!" said Mrs. Horton a few minutesafter.
Lord Elmwood laid down the newspaper to attend to her.
"To me, there is something very extraordinary about her!" continued Mrs.Horton, finding 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 aheartfelt sigh.
Lord Elmwood gazed by turns at each, as each delivered theirsentiments--and when they were all silent, he looked bewildered, notknowing what judgment to form from any 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 Woodleywere left alone. He immediately rose from his seat, and said,
"I think, Miss Woodley, Miss Milner was extremely to blame, though I didnot chuse to tell her so before Mr. Sandford, in giving Lord Frederickan opportunity of speaking to her, unless she means that he shall renewhis addresses."
"That, I am certain," replied Miss Woodley, "she does _not_ mean--and Iassure you, my Lord, seriously, it was by mere accident she saw himyesterday evening, or permitted his attendance upon her to hercarriage."
"I am glad to hear it," he returned quickly; "for although I am not of asuspicious nature, yet in regard to her affections for him, I cannot butstill have my doubts."
"You need have none, my Lord," replied Miss Woodley, with a smile ofconfidence.
"And yet you must own her behaviour has warranted them--has it not beenin this particular incoherent and unaccountable?"
"The behaviour of a person in love, no doubt," answered Miss Woodley.
"Don't I say so?" replied he warmly; "and is not that a just reason formy suspicions?"
"But is there only one man in the world on whom those suspicions canfix?" said Miss Woodley, with the colour mounting into her face.
"Not that I know of--not one more that I know of," he replied, withastonishment at what she had insinuated, and yet with a perfectassurance that she was in the wrong.
"Perhaps I am mistaken," answered she.
"Nay, that is impossible too," returned he with anxiety--"You share herconfidence--you are perpetually with her; and if she did not confide inyou, (which I know, and rejoice that she does) you would yet beacquainted 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 therewas some secret to learn.
After a hesitation----
"It is far from me," replied he, "to wish to be entrusted with theprivate sentiments of those who desire to with-hold them from me; muchless would I take any unfair means to be informed of them. To ask anymore questions of you, I believe, would be unfair. Yet I cannot butlament that I am not as well informed as you are. I wish to prove myfriendship to Miss Milner, but she will not suffer me--and every stepthat I take for her happiness, I take in the most perplexinguncertainty."
Miss Woodley sighed--but she did not speak. He seemed to wait for herreply; but as she made none, he proceeded--
"If ever breach of confidence could be tolerated, I certainly know nooccasion that would so justly authorise it as the present. I am not onlyproper from character, but from circumstances, to be relied upon--myinterest is so nearly connected with the interest, and my happiness withthe 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 ourfriend we distrust--where a common interest is concerned, we are ashamedof drawing on a common danger--afraid of advice, though that advice is tosave us.----Miss Woodley," said he, changing his voice with excess ofearnestness, "do you not believe, that I would do anything to make MissMilner happy?"
"Any thing in honour, my Lord."
"She can desire nothing farther," he replied in agitation. "Are herdesires so unwarrantable, that I cannot grant them?"
Miss Woodley again did not speak--and he continued----
"Great as my friendship is, there are certainly bounds to it--bounds thatshall 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 I have alwayslooked with fear and dismay) there is no accounting for the rashness ofa woman's choice, or sometimes for the depravity of her taste. But insuch 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 ofher fortune, she has beauty to captivate the heart of any man; and withall her follies, she has a frankness in her manner, an unaffected wisdomin her thoughts, a vivacity in her conversation, and withal, a softnessin her demeanour, that might alone engage the affections of a man of thenicest sentiments, and the strongest understanding. I will not see allthese qualities and accomplishments debased. It is my office to protecther from the consequences of a degrading choice, and I will."
"My Lord, Miss Milner's taste is not a depraved one; it is but toorefined."
"What can you mean by that, Miss Woodley? You talk mysteriously. Is shenot afraid that I will thwart her inclinations?"
"She is sure that you will, my Lord."
"Then must the person be unworthy of her."
Miss Woodley rose from her seat--she clasped her hands--every look andevery gesture proved her alternate resolution and irresolution ofproceeding. Lord Elmwood's attention was arrested before; but now it wasfixed to a degree which her extraordinary manner only could occasion.
"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 inhis mind all the persons he could recollect, in order to arrive at theknowledge 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 hersilent and covered with confusion. Again he searched his own thoughts;nor ineffectually as before. At the first glance, the object waspresented, and he beheld--_himself._
The rapid emotion of varying passions, which immediately darted over hisfeatures, informed Miss Woodley that her secret was discovered--she hidher face, while the tears that fell down to her bosom, confirmed thetruth of his suggestion, beyond what oaths could have done. A shortinterval of silence followed, during which, she suffered tortures forthe manner in which he would next address her--two seconds gave her thisreply:
"For God's sake take care what you are doing--you are destroying myprospects of futurity--you are making this world too dear to me."
Her drooping head was then lifted up, and she caught the eye ofDorriforth; she saw it beam expectation, amazement, joy, ardour, andlove.----Nay, there was a fire, a vehemence
in the quick fascinating raysit sent forth, she never before had seen--it filled her with alarm--shewished him to love Miss Milner, but to love her with moderation. MissWoodley was too little versed in the subject, to know, this would havebeen not to love at all; at least, not to the extent of breakingthrough engagements, and all the various obstacles that still militatedagainst their union.
Lord Elmwood was sensible of the embarrassment his presence gave MissWoodley, and understood the reproaches which she seemed to vent uponherself in silence. To relieve her from both, he laid his hand withforce 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 my passions now dictate," continued he, "I will notanswer. They are confused--they are triumphant at present. I have neveryet, however, been vanquished by them; and even upon this occasion, myreason shall combat them to the last--and my reason shall fail me, beforeI do wrong."
He was going to leave the room--she followed him, and cried, "But, myLord, how shall I see again the unhappy object of my treachery?"
"See her," replied he, "as one to whom you meant no injury, and to whomyou have done none."
"But she would account it an injury."
"We are not judges of what belongs to ourselves," he replied--"I amtransported at the tidings you have revealed, and yet, perhaps, I hadbetter never have heard them."
Miss Woodley was going to say something farther, but as if incapable ofattending to her, he hastened out of the room.