A Simple Story

by Mrs. Inchbald

  CHAPTER I.

  When Miss Milner arrived at Bath, she thought it the most altered placeshe had ever seen--she was mistaken--it was herself that was changed.

  The walks were melancholy, the company insipid, the ball-roomfatiguing--for, she had left behind all that could charm or please her.

  Though she found herself much less happy than when she was at Bathbefore, yet she felt, that she would not, even to enjoy all that pasthappiness, be again reduced to the being she was at that period. Thusdoes the lover consider the extinction of his passion with the samehorror as the libertine looks upon annihilation; the one would ratherlive hereafter, though in all the tortures described as constituting hisfuture state, than cease to exist; so, there are no tortures which alover would not suffer, rather than cease to love.

  In the wide prospect of sadness before her, Miss Milner's fancy caughthold of the only comfort which presented itself; and this, faint as itwas, in the total absence of every other, her imagination painted to heras excessive. The comfort was a letter from Miss Woodley--a letter, inwhich the subject of her love would most assuredly be mentioned, and inwhatever terms, it would still be the means of delight.

  A letter arrived--she devoured it with her eyes. The post mark denotingfrom whence it came, the name of "Milner Lodge" written on the top, wereall sources of pleasure--and she read slowly every line it contained, toprocrastinate the pleasing expectation she enjoyed, till she shouldarrive at the name of Dorriforth. At last, her impatient eye caught theword, three lines beyond the place she was reading--irresistibly, sheskipped over those lines, and fixed on the point to which she wasattracted.

  Miss Woodley was cautious in her indulgence; she made the slightestmention of Dorriforth; saying only, "He was extremely concerned, andeven dejected, at the little hope there was of his cousin, LordElmwood's, recovery." Short and trivial as this passage was, it wasstill more important to Miss Milner than any other in the letter--sheread it again and again, considered, and reflected upon it. Dejected,thought she, what does that word exactly mean?--did I ever see Mr.Dorriforth dejected?--how, I wonder, does he look in that state? Thus didshe muse, while the cause of his dejection, though a most serious one,and pathetically described by Miss Woodley, scarce arrested herattention once. She ran over with haste the account of Lord Elmwood'sstate of health; she certainly pitied him while she thought of him, butshe did not think of him long. To die, was a hard fate for a youngnobleman just in possession of his immense fortune, and on the eve ofmarriage with a beautiful young woman; but Miss Milner thought that anabode in Heaven might be still better than all this, and she had nodoubt but his Lordship would go thither. The forlorn state of MissFenton ought to have been a subject for compassion, but she knew thatlady had resignation to bear any lot with patience, and that a trial ofher fortitude might be more flattering to her vanity than to be Countessof Elmwood: in a word, she saw no one's misfortunes equal to her own,because she saw no one so little able to bear misfortune.

  She replied to Miss Woodley's letter, and dwelt very long on thatsubject which her friend had passed over lightly; this was anotherindulgence; and this epistolary intercourse was now the only enjoymentshe possessed. From Bath she paid several visits with Lady Luneham--allwere alike tedious and melancholy.

  But her guardian wrote to her, and though it was on a topic of sorrow,the letter gave her joy--the sentiments it expressed were merelycommon-place, yet she valued them as the dearest effusions of friendshipand affection; and her hands trembled, and her heart beat with rapturewhile she wrote the answer, though she knew it would not be received byhim with one emotion like those which she experienced. In her secondletter to Miss Woodley, she prayed like a person insane to be taken homefrom confinement, and like a lunatic protested, in sensible language,she "Had no disorder." But her friend replied, "That very declarationproves its violence." And she assured her, nothing less than placing heraffections elsewhere, should induce her to believe but that she wasincurable.

  The third letter from Milner Lodge brought the news of Lord Elmwood'sdeath. Miss Woodley was exceedingly affected by this event, and saidlittle else on any other subject. Miss Milner was shocked when she readthe words "He is dead", and instantly thought,

  "How transient are all sublunary things! Within a few years _I_ shall bedead--and how happy will it then be, if I have resisted every temptationto the alluring pleasures of this life!" The happiness of a peacefuldeath occupied her contemplation for near an hour; but at length, everyvirtuous and pious sentiment this meditation inspired, served but toremind her of the many sentences she had heard from her guardian's lipsupon the same subject--her thoughts were again fixed on him, and shecould think of nothing besides.

  In a short time after this, her health became impaired from theindisposition of her mind; she languished, and was once in imminentdanger. During a slight delirium of her fever, Miss Woodley's name andher guardian's were incessantly repeated; Lady Luneham sent themimmediate word of this, and they both hastened to Bath, and arrivedthere just as the violence and danger of her disorder had ceased. Assoon as she became perfectly recollected, her first care, knowing thefrailty of her heart, was to enquire what she had uttered whiledelirious. Miss Woodley, who was by her bedside, begged her not to bealarmed on that account, and assured her she knew, from all herattendants, that she had only spoken with a friendly remembrance (as wasreally the case) of those persons who were dear to her.

  She wished to know whether her guardian was come to see her, but shehad not the courage to ask before her friend; and she in her turn wasafraid by the too sudden mention of his name, to discompose her. Hermaid, however, after some little time, entered the chamber, andwhispered Miss Woodley. Miss Milner asked inquisitively "What she said?"

  The maid replied softly, "Lord Elmwood, Madam, wishes to come and seeyou for a few moments, if you will allow him."

  At this reply Miss Milner stared wildly.

  "I thought," said she, "I thought Lord Elmwood had been dead--are mysenses disordered still?"

  "No, my dear," answered Miss Woodley, "it is the present Lord Elmwoodwho wishes to see you; he whom you left ill when you came hither, _is_dead."

  "And who is the present Lord Elmwood?" 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 moderatethat glow of satisfaction which for a moment sparkled even in herlanguid eye, and blushed over her pallid countenance. "Yes--as he heardyou were ill, he thought it right to come and see you."

  "He is very good," she answered, and the tear started in her eyes.

  "Would you please to see his Lordship?" asked her maid.

  "Not yet, not yet," she replied; "let me recollect myself first." Andshe 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 Elmwoodwas introduced.

  To those who sincerely love, every change of situation or circumstancesin the object beloved, appears an advantage. So, the acquisition of atitle and estate was, in Miss Milner's eye, an inestimable advantage toher guardian; not on account of their real value; but that any change,instead of diminishing her passion, would have served only to increaseit--even a change to the utmost poverty.

  When he entered--the sight of him seemed to be too much for her, andafter the first glance she turned her head away. The sound of his voiceencouraged her to look once more--and then she riveted 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 possible to _look_ what hefelt, and his looks expressed his feelings. In the zeal of thosesensation
s, he laid hold of her hand, and held it between his--this hedid not himself know--but she did.

  "You have prayed for me, my Lord, I make no doubt?" said she, andsmiled, as if thanking him for those prayers.

  "Fervently, ardently!" returned he; and the fervency with which he hadprayed spoke in every feature.

  "But I am a protestant, you know, and if I had died such, do you believeI should have gone to Heaven?"

  "Most assuredly, that would not have prevented you."

  "But Mr. Sandford does not think so."

  "He must; for he means to go there himself."

  To keep her guardian with her, Miss Milner seemed inclined to converse;but her solicitous friend gave Lord Elmwood a look, which implied thatit might be injurious to her, and he retired.

  They had only one more interview before he left the place; at which MissMilner was capable of sitting up--he was with her, however, but a veryshort time, some necessary concerns relative to his late kinsman'saffairs, calling him in haste to London. Miss Woodley continued with herfriend till she saw her entirely reinstated in her health: during whichtime her guardian was frequently the subject of their privateconversation; and upon those occasions Miss Milner has sometimes broughtMiss Woodley to acknowledge, "That could Mr. Dorriforth have possiblyforeseen the early death of the last Lord Elmwood, it had been more forthe honour of his religion (as that ancient title would now after himbecome extinct), if he had preferred marriage vows to those ofcelibacy."