A Simple Story

by Mrs. Inchbald

  CHAPTER XII.

  When Miss Milner retired to her bed-chamber, Miss Woodley went with her,nor would leave her the whole night--but in vain did she persuade her torest--she absolutely refused; and declared she would never, from thathour, indulge repose. "The part I undertook to perform," cried she, "isover--I will now, for my whole life, appear in my own character, and givea loose to the anguish I endure."

  As daylight showed itself--"And yet I might see him once again," saidshe--"I might see him within these two hours, if I pleased, for Mr.Sandford invited me."

  "If you think, my dear Miss Milner," said Miss Woodley, "that a secondparting from Lord Elmwood would but give you a second agony, in the nameof Heaven do not see him any more--but, if you hope your mind would beeasier, were you to bid each other adieu in a more direct manner thanyou did last night, let us go down and breakfast with him. I'll gobefore, and prepare him for your reception--you shall not surprisehim--and I will let him know, it is by Mr. Sandford's invitation you arecoming."

  She listened with a smile to this proposal, yet objected to theindelicacy of her wishing to see him, after he had taken his leave--butas Miss Woodley perceived that she was inclined to infringe thisdelicacy, of which she had so proper a sense, she easily persuaded her,it was impossible for the most suspicious person (and Lord Elmwood wasfar from such a character) to suppose, that the paying him a visit atthat period of time, could be with the most distant idea of regaininghis heart, or of altering one resolution he had taken.

  But though Miss Milner acquiesced in this opinion, yet she had not thecourage to form the determination that she would go.

  Daylight now no longer peeped, but stared upon them. Miss Milner went tothe looking-glass, breathed upon her hands and rubbed them on her eyes,smoothed her hair and adjusted her dress; yet said, after all, "I darenot see him again."

  "You may do as you please," said Miss Woodley, "but I will. I that havelived for so many years under the same roof with him, and on the mostfriendly terms, and he going away, perhaps for these ten years, perhapsfor ever, I should think it a disrespect not to see him to the lastmoment of his remaining in the house."

  "Then do you go," said Miss Milner, eagerly; "and if he should ask forme, I will gladly come, you know; but if he does not ask for me, I willnot--and pray don't deceive me."

  Miss Woodley promised her not to deceive her; and soon after, as theyheard the servants pass about the house, and the clock had struck six,Miss Woodley went to the breakfast room.

  She found Lord Elmwood there in his travelling dress, standing pensivelyby the fire-place--and, as he did not dream of seeing her, he startedwhen she entered, and, with an appearance of alarm, said, "Dear MissWoodley, what's the matter?" She replied, "Nothing, my Lord; but I couldnot be satisfied without seeing your Lordship once again, while I had itin my power."

  "I thank you," he returned with a sigh--the heaviest and most intelligentsigh she ever heard him condescend to give. She imagined, alas, that helooked as if he wished to ask how Miss Milner did, but would not allowhimself the indulgence. She was half inclined to mention her to him, andwas debating in her mind whether she should or not, when Mr. Sandfordcame into the room, saying, as he entered,

  "For Heaven's sake, my Lord, where did you sleep last night?"

  "Why do you ask!" said he.

  "Because," replied Sandford, "I went into your bed-chamber just now, andI found your bed made. You have not slept there to-night."

  "I have slept no where," returned he; "I could not sleep--and having somepapers to look over, and to set off early, I thought I might as well notgo to bed at all."

  Miss Woodley was pleased at the frank manner in which he made thisconfession, and could not resist the strong impulse to say, "You havedone just then, my Lord, like Miss Milner, for she has not been in bedthe whole night."

  Miss Woodley spoke this in a negligent manner, and yet, Lord Elmwoodechoed back the words with solicitude, "Has not Miss Milner been in bedthe whole night?"

  "If she is up, why does not she come and take some coffee?" saidSandford, as he began to pour it out.

  "If she thought it would be agreeable," returned Miss Woodley, "I daresay she would." And she looked at Lord Elmwood while she spoke, thoughshe did not absolutely address him; but he made no reply.

  "Agreeable!" returned Sandford, angrily--"Has she then a quarrel with anybody here? or does she suppose any body here bears enmity to _her?_ Isshe not in peace and charity?"

  "Yes," replied Miss Woodley, "that I am sure she is."

  "Then bring her hither," cried Sandford, "directly. Would she have thewickedness to imagine we are not all friends with her?"

  Miss Woodley left the room, and found Miss Milner almost in despair,lest she should hear Lord Elmwood's carriage drive off before herfriend's return.

  "Did he send for me?" were the words she uttered as soon as she saw her.

  "Mr. Sandford did, in his presence," returned Miss Woodley, "and you maygo with the utmost decorum, or I would not tell you so."

  She required no protestations of this, but readily followed her belovedadviser, whose kindness never appeared in so amiable a light as at thatmoment.

  On entering the room, through all the dead white of her presentcomplection, she blushed to a crimson. Lord Elmwood rose from his seat,and brought a chair for her to sit down.

  Sandford looked at her inquisitively, sipped his tea, and said, "Henever made tea to his own liking."

  Miss Milner took a cup, but had scarce strength to hold it.

  It seemed but a very short time they were at breakfast, when thecarriage, that was to take Lord Elmwood away, drove to the door. MissMilner started at the sound--so did he--but she had nearly dropped her cupand saucer; on which Sandford took them out of her hand, saying,

  "Perhaps you had rather have coffee?"

  Her lips moved, but he could not hear what she said.

  A servant came in, and told Lord Elmwood, "The carriage was at thedoor."

  He replied, "Very well." But though he had breakfasted, he did notattempt to move.

  At last, rising briskly, as if it was necessary to go in haste when hedid go; he took up his hat, which he had brought with him into the room,and was turning to Miss Woodley to take his leave, when Sandford cried,"My Lord, you are in a great hurry." And then, as if he wished to givepoor Miss Milner every moment he could, added, (looking about) "I don'tknow where I have laid my gloves."

  Lord Elmwood, after repeating to Miss Woodley his last night's farewell,now went up to Miss Milner, and taking one of her hands, again held itbetween his, but still without speaking--while she, unable to suppressher tears as heretofore, suffered them to fall in torrents.

  "What is all this?" cried Sandford, going up to them in anger.

  They neither of them replied, or changed their situation.

  "Separate this moment," cried Sandford, "or resolve to be separated onlyby--death."

  The commanding and awful manner in which he spoke this sentence, madethem both turn to him in amazement, and as it were, petrified with thesensation his words had caused.

  He left them for a moment, and going to a small bookcase in one cornerof the room, took out of it a book, and returning with it in his hand,said,

  "Lord Elmwood, do you love this woman?"

  "More than my life." He replied, with the most heartfelt accents.

  He then turned to Miss Milner--"Can you say the same by him?"

  She spread her hands over her eyes, and exclaimed, "Oh, Heavens!"

  "I believe you _can_ say so," returned Sandford; "and in the name ofGod, and your own happiness, since this is the state of you both, let meput it out of your power to part."

  Lord Elmwood gazed at him with wonder! and yet, as if enraptured by thesudden change this conduct gave to his prospects.

  She, sighed with a kind of trembling ecstasy; while Sandford, with allthe dignity of his official character, delivered these words----

  "My Lord, while I thought my counsel might sa
ve you from the worst ofmisfortunes, conjugal strife, I importuned you hourly, and set forthyour danger in the light it appeared to me. But though old, and apriest, I can submit to think I have been in an error; and I now firmlybelieve, it is for the welfare of you both, to become man and wife. MyLord, take this woman's marriage vows--you can ask no fairer promises ofher reform--she can give you none half so sacred, half so binding; and Isee by her looks that she will mean to keep them. And my dear,"continued he, addressing himself to her, "act but under the dominion ofthose vows, to a husband of sense and virtue, like him, and you will beall that I, himself, or even Heaven can desire. Now, then, Lord Elmwood,this moment give her up for ever, or this moment constrain her by suchties from offending you, as she shall not _dare_ to violate."

  Lord Elmwood struck his forehead in doubt and agitation; but, stillholding her hand, he cried, "I cannot part from her." Then feeling thisreply as equivocal, he fell upon his knees, and cried, "Will you pardonmy hesitation? and will you, in marriage, show me that tender love youhave not shown me yet? Will you, in possessing all my affections, bearwith all my infirmities?"

  She raised him from her feet, and by the expression of her countenance,by the tears that bathed his hands, gave him confidence.

  He turned to Sandford--then placing her by his own side, as the form ofmatrimony requires, gave this for a sign to Sandford that he shouldbegin the ceremony. On which, he opened his book, and--married them.

  With voice and manners so serious, so solemn and so fervent, heperformed these rites, that every idea of jest, or even of lightness,was absent from the mind of all who were present.

  Miss Milner, covered with shame, sunk on the bosom of Miss Woodley.

  When the ring was wanting, Lord Elmwood supplied it with one from hisown hand, but throughout all the rest of the ceremony, appeared lost inzealous devotion to Heaven. Yet, no sooner was it finished, than histhoughts descended to this world. He embraced his bride with all thetransport of the fondest, happiest bridegroom, and in raptures calledher by the endearing name of "wife."

  "But still, my Lord," cried Sandford, "you are only married by your ownchurch and conscience, not by your wife's, or by the law of the land;and let me advise you not to defer that marriage long, lest in the timeyou disagree, and she should refuse to become your legal spouse."

  "I think there is danger," returned Lord Elmwood, "and therefore oursecond marriage must take place to-morrow."

  To this the ladies objected, and Sandford was to fix their secondwedding-day, as he had done their first. He, after consideration, gavethem four days.

  Miss Woodley then recollected (for every one else had forgot it) thatthe carriage was still at the door to convey Lord Elmwood far away. Itwas of course dismissed--and one of those great incidents of delightwhich Miss Milner that morning tasted, was to look out of the window,and see this very carriage drive from the door unoccupied.

  Never was there a more rapid change from despair to happiness--tohappiness perfect and supreme--than was that, which Miss Milner and LordElmwood experienced in one single hour.

  The few days that intervened between this and their lawful marriage,were passed in the delightful care of preparing for that happy day--yet,with all its delights inferior to the first, when every unexpected joywas doubled by the once expected sorrow.

  Nevertheless, on that first wedding-day, that joyful day, which restoredher lost lover to her hopes again; even on that _very_ day, after thesacred ceremony was over, Miss Milner--(with all the fears, the tremors,the superstition of her sex)--felt an excruciating shock; when, lookingon the ring Lord Elmwood had put upon her finger, in haste, when hemarried her, she perceived it was a--mourning ring.

  A

  SIMPLE STORY,

  IN FOUR VOLUMES,

  BY

  MRS. INCHBALD.

  VOL. III.

  _THE FOURTH EDITION._

  LONDON:

  Printed for G. G. and J. ROBINSON,

  PATERNOSTER ROW.

  1799.

  A SIMPLE STORY.