CHAPTER V.
Six weeks have now elapsed since Miss Milner has been in Londonpartaking with delight all its pleasures, while Dorriforth has beensighing with apprehension, attending to her with precaution, and prayingwith zealous fervour for her safety. Her own and her guardian'sacquaintance, and, added to them, the new friendships (to use theunmeaning language of the world) which she was continually forming,crowded so perpetually to the house, that seldom had Dorriforth even amoment left him from her visits or visitors, to warn her of herdanger:--yet when a moment offered, he caught it eagerly--pressed thenecessity of "Time not always passed in society; of reflection; ofreading; of thoughts for a future state; and of virtues acquired to makeold age supportable." That forcible power of genuine feeling, whichdirects the tongue to eloquence, had its effect while she listened tohim, and she sometimes put on the looks and gesture of assent--sometimeseven spoke the language of conviction; but this the first call ofdissipation would change to ill-timed raillery, or peevish remonstrance,at being limited in delights her birth and fortune entitled her toenjoy.
Among the many visitors who attended at her levees, and followed herwherever she went, there was one who seemed, even when absent from her,to share her thoughts. This was Lord Frederick Lawnly, the younger sonof a Duke, and the avowed favourite of all the most discerning women oftaste.
He was not more than twenty-three; animated, elegant, extremelyhandsome, and possessed of every accomplishment that would captivate aheart less susceptible of love than Miss Milner's was supposed to be.With these allurements, no wonder if she took pleasure in his company--nowonder if she took pride in having it known that he was among the numberof her devoted admirers. Dorriforth beheld this growing intimacy withalternate pain and pleasure--he wished to see Miss Milner married, to seehis charge in the protection of another, rather than of himself; yetunder the care of a young nobleman, immersed in all the vices of thetown, without one moral excellence, but such as might result eventuallyfrom the influence of the moment--under such care he trembled for herhappiness--yet trembled more lest her heart should be purloined withouteven the authority of matrimonial views.
With sentiments like these, Dorriforth could never disguise hisuneasiness at the sight of Lord Frederick, nor could the latter helpdiscerning the suspicion of the guardian, and consequently each wasembarrassed in the presence of the other. Miss Milner observed, butobserved with indifference, the sensations of both--there was but onepassion 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 immoderateenjoyment of the art of pleasing, for her own individual happiness, andnot for the happiness of others. Still had she a heart inclined, andoftentimes affected by tendencies less unworthy; but those approaches towhat was estimable, were in their first impulse too frequently met andintercepted by some darling folly.
Miss Woodley (who could easily discover a virtue, although of the mostdiminutive kind, and scarce through the magnifying glass of calumnycould ever perceive a fault) was Miss Milner's inseparable companion athome, and her zealous advocate with Dorriforth, whenever, during herabsence, she became the subject of discourse. He listened with hope tothe praises of her friend, but saw with despair how little they weremerited. Sometimes he struggled to subdue his anger, but oftener stroveto suppress tears of pity for her hapless state.
By this time all her acquaintance had given Lord Frederick to her as alover; the servants whispered it, and some of the public prints had evenfixed the day of marriage;--but as no explanation had taken place on hispart, Dorriforth's uneasiness was increased, and he seriously told hisward, he thought it would be indispensably prudent in her to entreatLord Frederick to discontinue his visits. She smiled with ridicule atthe caution, but finding it repeated, and in a manner that indicatedauthority, she promised not only to make, but to enforce the request.The next time he came she did so, assuring him it was by her guardian'sdesire; "Who, from motives of delicacy, had permitted her to solicit asa favour, what he could himself make a demand." Lord Frederick reddenedwith anger--he loved Miss Milner; but he doubted whether, from thefrequent proofs he had experienced of his own inconstancy, he shouldcontinue to love--and this interference of her guardian threatened anexplanation or a dismission, before he became thoroughly acquainted withhis own heart.--Alarmed, confounded, and provoked, he replied,
"By heaven, I believe Mr. Dorriforth loves you himself, and it isjealousy that makes him treat me in this manner."
"For shame, my Lord!" cried Miss Woodley, who was present, and whotrembled with horror at the sacrilegious idea.
"Nay, shame to him if he is not in love"--answered his Lordship, "for whobut a savage could behold beauty like her's without owning its power?"
"Habit," replied Miss Milner, "is every thing--Mr. Dorriforth sees andconverses with beauty, but from habit he does not fall in love; as you,my Lord, from habit, so often do."
"Then you believe that love is not in my nature?"
"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 toa flame, for I think it a crime to be insensible of the divine blessingslove can bestow."
"Then you indulge the passion to avoid a sin?--this very motive detersMr. Dorriforth from that indulgence."
"It ought to deter him, for the sake of his oaths--but monastick vows,like those of marriage, were made to be broken--and surely when yourguardian looks at you, his wishes"----
"Are never less pure," she replied eagerly, "than those which dwell inthe bosom of my _celestial_ guardian."
At that instant Dorriforth entered the room. The colour had mounted intoMiss Milner's face from the warmth with which she had delivered heropinion, and his accidental entrance at the very moment this praise hadbeen conferred upon him in his absence, heightened the blush to a deepglow on every feature--confusion and earnestness caused even her lips totremble and her whole frame to shake.
"What's the matter?" cried Dorriforth, looking with concern on herdiscomposure.
"A compliment paid by herself to you, Sir," replied Lord Frederick, "hasaffected your ward in the manner you have seen."
"As if she blushed at the untruth," said Dorriforth.
"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 left himto vindicate himself."
"Is it possible that I can want any vindication? Who would think itworth 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?" said Dorriforth, with a firmnessin his voice, and with an eye so fixed, that his antagonist hesitatedfor a moment in want of a reply--and Miss Milner softly whispering tohim, as her guardian turned his head, to avoid an argument, he bowedacquiescence. And then, as if in compliment to her, he changed thesubject;--with an air of ridicule he cried,
"I wish, Mr. Dorriforth, you would give me absolution of all my sins,for I confess they are many, and manifold."
"Hold, my Lord," exclaimed Dorriforth, "do not confess before theladies, lest, in order to excite their compassion, you should be temptedto accuse yourself of sins you have never yet committed."
At this Miss Milner laughed, seemingly so well pleased, that LordFrederick, with a sarcastic sneer, repeated,
"From Abelard it came, And Eloisa still must love the name."
Whether from an inattention to the quotation, or from a consciousness itwas wholly inapplicable, Dorriforth heard it without one emotion ofshame or of anger--while Miss Milner seemed shocked at the implication;her pleasantry was immediately suppressed, and she threw open the sashand held her head out at the window, to conceal the embarrassment theselines had occasioned.
The Earl of Elmwood was at that juncture announced--a Cath
olic nobleman,just come of age, and on the eve of marriage. His visit was to hiscousin, Mr. Dorriforth, but as all ceremonious visits were alikereceived by Dorriforth, Miss Milner, and Mrs. Horton's family, in onecommon apartment, Lord Elmwood was ushered into this, and of coursedirected the conversation to a different subject.
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