A Simple Story. Mrs. Inchbald

father; yet, from some volatile thought, or some quick sense of feeling, which she had not been accustomed to subdue, she was perpetually on the verge of treating him with levity; but he would immediately recall 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 subject of Sir Edward Ashton's hopes. He first spoke warmly in his praise, then plainly said that he believed she possessed the power of making so deserving a man happy to the summit of his wishes. A laugh of ridicule was the only answer; but a sudden frown from Dorriforth having put an end to it, he resumed his usual politeness, and said,

      "I wish you would shew a better taste, than thus pointedly to disapprove of 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 so bad an example of his, in approving me?"

      Dorriforth wished not to flatter her by a compliment she seemed to have sought 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 what your humility has advanced be just, yet Sir Edward will not suffer by the suggestion; for in cases where the heart is so immediately concerned, as I believe Sir Edward's to be, taste, or rather reason, has no 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 not consent to marry a man whom I could never love."

      "Unless your heart is already given away, Miss Milner, what can make you speak with such a degree of certainty?"

      He thought on Lord Frederick when he said this, and he riveted his eyes upon her as if to penetrate her sentiments, and yet trembled for what he should find there. She blushed, 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 given away; and yet I can venture to declare, Sir Edward will never possess an atom of it."

      "I am sorry, for both your sakes, that these are 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 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 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 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, experienced all its dangerous allurements, all its repentant sorrows; than like one who has lived his whole time secluded in a monastery, 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 Frederick, 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!"

      "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," answered Miss Woodley, "but I think I can guess what it is."

      "Nor can I 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.

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      Sir Edward, not wholly discouraged by the denial with which Dorriforth had, with delicacy, acquainted him, still hoped for a kind reception, and 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 ardour, that Miss Woodley, who was sometimes present, and ever compassionate, could not resist wishing him success. He now unequivocally offered marriage, and entreated that he might lay his proposals 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 sudden 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 the time, which else her friend 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?"

      Unprepared for the sudden question, she blushed and replied, "Yes."—Though she knew she was engaged to a brilliant assembly, for which her milliner had been consulted a whole week.

      She, however, flattered herself that what she had said might be excused as a mistake, the lapse of 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 guardian looked astonished.

      "I thought, Miss Milner, you gave me your word that you would pass this evening at home?"

      "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