A Simple Story

by Mrs. Inchbald

  CHAPTER II.

  Rushbrook, who, at twenty miles distance, could have no conjecture whathad passed at Elmwood House, during the short visit Lord Elmwood madethere, went that way with his dogs and gun in order to meet him on hisreturn, and accompany him in the chaise back--he did so--and getting intothe carriage, told him eagerly the sport he had had during the day;laughed at an accident that had befallen one of his dogs; and for sometime did not perceive but that his uncle was perfectly attentive. Atlength, observing he answered more negligently than usual to what hesaid, Rushbrook turned his eyes quickly upon him, and cried,

  "My Lord, are you not well?"

  "Yes; perfectly well, I thank you, Rushbrook," and he leaned backagainst the carriage.

  "I thought, Sir," returned Rushbrook, "you spoke languidly--I beg yourpardon."

  "I have the head-ache a little," answered he:--then taking off his hat,brushed the powder from it, and as he put it on again, fetched a mostheavy sigh; which no sooner had escaped him, than, to drown its sound,he said briskly,

  "And so you tell me you have had good sport to-day?"

  "No, my Lord, I said but indifferent."

  "True, so you did. Bid the man drive faster--it will be dark before weget home."

  "You will shoot to-morrow, my Lord?"

  "Certainly."

  "How does Mr. Sandford do, Sir?"

  "I did not see him."

  "Not see Mr. Sandford, My Lord? but he was out I suppose--for they didnot expect you at Elmwood House."

  "No, they did not."

  In such conversation Rushbrook and his uncle continued to the end oftheir journey. Dinner was then immediately served, and Lord Elmwoodappeared much in his usual spirits; at least, not suspecting any causefor their abatement, Rushbrook did not observe any alteration.

  Lord Elmwood went, however, earlier to bed than ordinary, or rather tohis bed-chamber; for though he retired some time before his nephew, whenRushbrook passed his chamber door it was open, and he not in bed, butsitting in a musing posture, as if he had forgot to shut it.

  When Rushbrook's valet came to attend his master, he said to him,

  "I suppose, Sir, you do not know what has happened at the Castle?"

  "For heaven's sake what?" cried Rushbrook.

  "My Lord has met Lady Matilda:" replied the man.

  "How? Where? What's the consequence?"

  "We don't know yet, Sir; but all the servants suppose her Ladyship willnot be suffered to remain there any longer."

  "They all suppose wrong," returned Rushbrook hastily--"My Lord loves herI am certain, and this event may be the happy means of his treating heras his child from this day."

  The servant smiled and shook his head.

  "Why, what more do you know?"

  "Nothing more than I have told you, Sir; except that his Lordship tookno kind of notice of her Ladyship that appeared like love."

  Rushbrook was all uneasiness and anxiety to know the particulars of whathad passed; and now Lord Elmwood's inquietude, which he had but slightlynoticed before, came full to his observation. He was going to ask morequestions; but he recollected Lady Matilda's misfortunes were toosacred, to be talked of thus familiarly by the servants of thefamily;--besides, it was evident this man thought, and but naturally, itmight not be for his master's interest the father and the daughtershould be united; and therefore would certainly give to all he said theopposite colouring.

  In spite of his prudence, however, and his delicacy towards Matilda,Rushbrook could not let his valet leave him till he had inquired, andlearned all the circumstantial account of what had happened; except,indeed, the order received by Giffard, which being given after LordElmwood was in his carriage and in concise terms, the domestics whoattended him (and from whom this man had gained his intelligence) wereunacquainted with it.

  When the servant had left Rushbrook alone, the perturbation of his mindwas so great, that he was, at length, undetermined whether to go to bed,or to rush into his uncle's apartment, and at his feet beg for thatcompassion upon his daughter, which he feared he had denied her. Butthen, to what peril would he not expose himself by such a step? Nay, hemight perhaps even injure her whom he wished to serve; for if his unclewas at present unresolved, whether to forgive or to resent thisdisobedience to his commands, another's interference might enrage, andprecipitate him on the latter.

  This consideration was so weighty, it resigned Rushbrook to the suspensehe was compelled to endure till the morning; when he flattered himself,that by watching every look and motion of Lord Elmwood, his penetrationwould be able to discover the state of his heart, and how he meant toact.

  But the morning came, and he found all his prying curiosity was of noavail; Lord Elmwood did not drop one word, give one look, or use oneaction that was not customary.

  On first seeing him, Rushbrook blushed at the secret with which he wasentrusted; then, as he gazed on the Earl, contemplated the joy he oughtto have known in clasping in his arms a child like Matilda, whosetenderness, reverence, and duty, had deprived her of all sensation athis sight; which was in Rushbrook's mind an honour, that rendered himsuperior to what he was before.

  They were in the fields all the day as usual; Lord Elmwood now cheerful,and complaining no more of the head-ache. Yet once being separated fromhis nephew, Rushbrook crossed over a stile into another field, and foundhim sitting by the side of a bank, his gun lying by him, and himselflost in thought. He rose on seeing him, and proceeded to the sport asbefore.

  At dinner, he said he should not go to Elmwood House the next day, as hehad appointed, but stay where he was, three or four days longer. Fromthese two small occurrences, Rushbrook would fain have extractedsomething by which to judge the state of his mind; but upon the test,that was impossible--he had caught him so musing many a time before; andas to his prolonging his stay, that might arise from the sport--or,indeed, had any thing more material swayed him, who could penetratewhether it was the effect of the lenity, or the severity, he had dealttowards his child? whether his continuance there was to shun her, or toshun the house from whence he had banished her?

  The three or four days for their temporary abode being passed, they bothreturned together to Elmwood House. Rushbrook thought he saw his uncle'scountenance change as they entered the avenue, yet he did not appearless in spirits; and when Sandford joined them at dinner, the Earl wentwith his usual alacrity to him, and (as was his custom after anyseparation) put out his hand cheerfully to take his. Sandford said, "Howdo you do, my Lord?" cheerfully in return; but put both his hands intohis bosom, and walked to the other side of the room. Lord Elmwood didnot seem to observe this affront--nor was it done as an affront--it wasmerely what poor Sandford felt; and he felt he could _not_ shake handswith him.

  Rushbrook soon learned the news that Matilda was gone, and Elmwood Housewas to him a desert--he saw there no real friend of her's, except poorSandford, and to him, Rushbrook knew himself now, more displeasing thanever; and all his overtures of atonement, he, at this time, found moreand more ineffectual. Matilda was exiled; and her supposed triumphantrival was, to Sandford, more odious than he had ever been.

  In alleviation of their banishment, Miss Woodley, with her charge, hadnot returned to their old retreat; but were gone to a farm house, notfarther than thirty miles from Lord Elmwood's: here Sandford, withlittle inconvenience, visited them; nor did his patron ever take noticeof his occasional absence; for as he had before given his daughter, insome measure, to his charge; so honour, delicacy, and the common ties ofduty, made him approve, rather than condemn his attention to her.

  Though Sandford's frequent visits soothed Matilda, they could notcomfort her; for he had no consolation to bestow that was suited to hermind--her father had given no one token of regret for what he had done.He had even inquired sternly of Giffard on his returning home,

  "If Miss Woodley had left the house?"

  The steward guessing the whole of his meaning, answered, "Yes, my Lord;and _all_ your commands in that respect have been
obeyed."

  He replied, "I am satisfied." And, to the grief of the old man, appearedreally so.

  To the farm-house, the place of Matilda's residence, there came, besidesSandford, another visitor far less welcome--Viscount Margrave. He hadheard with surprise, and still greater joy, that Lord Elmwood had oncemore shut his doors against his daughter. In this her discarded state,he no longer burthened his lively imagination with the dull thoughts ofmarriage, but once more formed the idea of making her his mistress.

  Ignorant of a certain decorum which attended all Lord Elmwood's actions,he suspected that his child might be in want; and an acquaintance withthe worst part of her sex informed him, that relief from poverty was thesure bargain for his success. With these hopes, he again paid MissWoodley and her a visit; but the coldness of the former, and thehaughtiness of the latter, still kept him at a distance, and again madehim fear to give one allusion to his purpose: but he returned homeresolved to write what he durst not speak--he did so--he offered hisservices, his purse, his house--they were rejected with contempt, and astronger prohibition than ever given to his visits.