CHAPTER VI.
With an anxious desire that the affection, or acquaintance, between LordFrederick and Miss Milner might be finally dissolved, her guardianreceived with infinite satisfaction, overtures of marriage from SirEdward Ashton. Sir Edward was not young or handsome; old or ugly; butimmensely rich, and possessed of qualities that made him worthy of thehappiness to which he aspired. He was the man whom Dorriforth would havechosen before any other for the husband of his ward, and his wishes madehim sometimes hope, against his cooler judgment, that Sir Edward wouldnot be rejected--he was resolved, at all events, to try the force of hisown power in the strongest recommendation of him.
Notwithstanding that dissimilarity of opinion which, in almost everyinstance, subsisted between Miss Milner and her guardian, there was ingeneral the most punctilious observance of good manners from eachtowards the other--on the part of Dorriforth more especially; for hispoliteness would sometimes appear even like the result of a system whichhe had marked out for himself, as the only means to keep his wardrestrained within the same limitations. Whenever he addressed her therewas an unusual reserve upon his countenance, and more than usualgentleness in the tone of his voice; this appeared the effect ofsentiments which her birth and situation inspired, joined to a studiedmode of respect, best calculated to enforce the same from her. Thewished-for consequence was produced--for though there was an instinctiverectitude in the understanding of Miss Milner that would have taughther, without other instruction, what manners to observe towards herdeputed father; yet, from some volatile thought, or some quick sense offeeling, which she had not been accustomed to subdue, she wasperpetually on the verge of treating him with levity; but he wouldimmediately recall her recollection by a reserve too awful, and agentleness too sacred for her to violate. The distinction which bothrequired, was thus, by his skilful management alone, preserved.
One morning he took an opportunity, before her and Miss Woodley, tointroduce and press the subject of Sir Edward Ashton's hopes. He firstspoke warmly in his praise, then plainly said that he believed shepossessed the power of making so deserving a man happy to the summit ofhis wishes. A laugh of ridicule was the only answer; but a sudden frownfrom Dorriforth having put an end to it, he resumed his usualpoliteness, and said,
"I wish you would shew a better taste, than thus pointedly to disapproveof Sir Edward."
"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 sobad an example of his, in approving me?"
Dorriforth wished not to flatter her by a compliment she seemed to havesought for, and for a moment hesitated what answer to make.
"Reply, Sir, to that question," she said.
"Why then, Madam," returned he, "it is my opinion, that supposing whatyour humility has advanced be just, yet Sir Edward will not suffer bythe suggestion; for in cases where the heart is so immediatelyconcerned, as I believe Sir Edward's to be, taste, or rather reason, hasno power to act."
"You are in the right, Mr. Dorriforth; this is a proper justification ofSir Edward--and when I fall in love, I beg that you will make the sameexcuse for me."
"Then," said he earnestly, "before your heart is in that state which Ihave described, exert your reason."
"I shall," answered she, "and not consent to marry a man whom I couldnever love."
"Unless your heart is already given away, Miss Milner, what can make youspeak with such a degree of certainty?"
He thought on Lord Frederick when he said this, and he riveted his eyesupon her as if to penetrate her sentiments, and yet trembled for what heshould find there. She blushed, and her looks would have confirmed herguilty, if the unembarrassed and free tone of her voice, more than herwords, had not preserved her from that sentence.
"No," she replied, "my heart is not given away; and yet I can venture todeclare, Sir Edward will never possess an atom of it."
"I am sorry, for both your sakes, that these are your sentiments," hereplied. "But as your heart is still your own," (and he seemed rejoicedto find it was) "permit me to warn you how you part with a thing soprecious--the dangers, the sorrows you hazard in bestowing it, aregreater than you may be aware of. The heart once gone, our thoughts, ouractions, are no more our own, than that is." He seemed _forcing_ himselfto utter all this, and yet broke off as if he could have said much more,if the extreme delicacy of the subject had not prevented him.
When he left the room, and she heard the door shut after him, she said,with an inquisitive thoughtfulness, "What can make good people soskilled in all the weaknesses of the bad? Mr. Dorriforth, with all thoseprudent admonitions, appears rather like a man who has passed his lifein the gay world, experienced all its dangerous allurements, all itsrepentant sorrows; than like one who has lived his whole time secludedin a monastery, or in his own study. Then he speaks with such exquisitesensibility on the subject of love, that he commends the very thingwhich he attempts to depreciate. I do not think my Lord Frederick wouldmake the passion appear in more pleasing colours by painting itsdelights, than Mr. Dorriforth could in describing its sorrows--and if hetalks to me frequently in this manner, I shall certainly take pity onLord Frederick, for the sake of his adversary's eloquence."
Miss Woodley, who heard the conclusion of this speech with the tenderestconcern, cried, "Alas! you then think seriously of Lord Frederick!"
"Suppose I do, wherefore that _alas!_ Miss Woodley?"
"Because I fear you will never be happy with him."
"That is plainly telling me he will not be happy with me."
"I do not know--I cannot speak of marriage from experience," answeredMiss Woodley, "but I think I can guess what it is."
"Nor can I speak of love from experience," replied Miss Milner, "but Ithink I can guess what it is."
"But do not fall in love, my dear," (cried Miss Woodley, with heraccustomed simplicity of heart, as if she had been asking a favour thatdepended upon the will of the person entreated,) "pray do not fall inlove without the approbation of your guardian."
Her young friend smiled at the inefficacious prayer, but promised to doall she could to oblige her.