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A Simple Story

Page 38

by Mrs. Inchbald


  CHAPTER VII.

  The next day the whole Castle appeared to Lady Matilda (though she wasin some degree retired from it) all tumult and bustle, as was usuallythe case while Lord Elmwood was there. She saw from her windows, theservants running across the yards and park; horses and carriages drivingwith fury; all the suite of a nobleman; and it sometimes elated, atother times depressed her.

  These impressions however, and others of fear and anxiety, which herfather's arrival had excited, by degrees wore off; and after some littletime, she was in the same tranquil state that she enjoyed before hecame.

  He had visitors, who passed a week or two with him; he paid visitshimself for several days; and thus the time stole away, till it wasabout four weeks from the time that he had arrived; in which longperiod, Sandford, with all his penetration, could never clearly discoverwhether he had once called to mind that his daughter was living in thesame house. He had not once named her (that was not extraordinary)consequently no one dared name her to him; but he had not even mentionedMiss Woodley, of whom he had so lately spoken in the kindest terms, andhad said, "He should take pleasure in seeing her again." From thesecontradictions in Lord Elmwood's behaviour in respect to her, it wasMiss Woodley's plan neither to throw herself in his way, nor avoid him.She therefore frequently walked about the house while he was in it, notindeed entirely without restraint, but at least with the show ofliberty. This freedom, indulged for some time without peril, became atlast less cautious; and as no ill consequences had arisen from itspractice, her scruples gradually ceased.

  One morning, however, as she was crossing the large hall, thoughtless ofdanger, a footstep at a distance alarmed her almost without knowing why.She stopped for a moment, thinking to return; the steps approachedquicker, and before she could retreat, she beheld Lord Elmwood at theother end of the hall, and perceived that he saw her. It was too late tohesitate what was to be done; she could not go back, and had not courageto go on; she therefore stood still. Disconcerted, and much affected athis sight, (their former intimacy coming to her mind with the manyyears, and many sad occurrences passed, since she last saw him) all herintentions, all her meditated plans how to conduct herself on such anoccasion, gave way to a sudden shock--and to make the meeting yet moredistressing, her very fright, she knew, would serve to recall morepowerfully to his mind, the subject she most wished him to forget. Thesteward was with him, and as they came up close by her side, Giffardobserving him look at her earnestly, said softly, but so as she heardhim, "My Lord, it is Miss Woodley." Lord Elmwood took off his hatinstantly--and, with an apparent friendly warmth, laying hold of herhand, he said, "Indeed, Miss Woodley, I did not know you--I am very gladto see you:" and while he spoke, shook her hand with a cordiality whichher tender heart could not bear--and never did she feel so hard astruggle as to restrain her tears. But the thought of Matilda's fate--theidea of awakening in his mind a sentiment that might irritate himagainst his child, wrought more forcibly than every other effort; andthough she could not reply distinctly, she replied without weeping.Whether he saw her embarrassment, and wished to release her from it, orwas in haste to conceal his own, he left her almost instantly: but nottill he had entreated she would dine that very day with him and Mr.Sandford, who were to dine without other company. She curtsied assent,and flew to tell Matilda what had occurred. After listening with anxietyand with joy to all she told, Matilda laid hold of that hand which shesaid Lord Elmwood had held, and pressed it to her lips with love andreverence.

  When Miss Woodley made her appearance at dinner, Sandford, (who had notseen her since the invitation, and did not know of it) looked amazed; onwhich Lord Elmwood said, "Do you know, Sandford, I met Miss Woodley thismorning, and had it not been for Giffard, I should have passed herwithout knowing her--but Miss Woodley, if I am not so much altered butthat you knew me, I take it unkind you did not speak first." She wasunable to speak even now--he saw it, and changed the conversation; whenSandford eagerly joined in discourse, which relieved him from the painof the former.

  As they advanced in their dinner, the embarrassment of Miss Woodley andof Mr. Sandford diminished; Lord Elmwood in his turn became, notembarrassed, but absent and melancholy. He now and then sighedheavily--and called for wine much oftener than he was accustomed.

  When Miss Woodley took her leave, he invited her to dine with him andSandford whenever it was convenient to her; he said, besides, manythings of the same kind, and all with the utmost civility, yet not withthat warmth with which he had spoken in the morning--into _that_ he hadbeen surprised--his coolness was the effect of reflection.

  When she came to Lady Matilda, and Sandford had joined them, they talkedand deliberated on what had passed.

  "You acknowledge Mr. Sandford," said Miss Woodley, "that you think mypresence affected Lord Elmwood, so as to make him much more thoughtfulthan usual; if you imagine these thoughts were upon Lady Elmwood, Iwill never intrude again; but if you suppose that I made him think uponhis daughter, I cannot go too often."

  "I don't see how he can divide those two objects in his mind," repliedSandford, "therefore you must e'en visit him on, and take your chance,what reflections you may cause--but, be they what they will, time willsteal away from you that power of affecting him."

  She concurred in the opinion, and occasionally she walked into LordElmwood's apartments, dined, or took her coffee with him, as theaccident suited; and observed, according to Sandford's prediction, thattime wore off the impression her visits first made. Lord Elmwood nowbecame just the same before her as before others. She easily discerned,too, through all that politeness which he assumed--that he was no longerthe considerate, the forbearing character he formerly was; but haughty,impatient, imperious, and more than ever, _implacable._

 

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