This attention had something in it so tender, so officious, and yet so sincere, that it brought the tears into Miss Woodley’s eyes, attracted the notice of Mr. Sandford, and the observation of Mrs. Horton; while the heart of Miss Milner overflowed with a gratitude, that gave place to no sentiment except her love.
To relieve the anxiety which her guardian expressed, she endeavoured to appear cheerful, and that anxiety, at length, really made her so. He now pressed her to take one glass of wine with such solicitude, that he seemed to say a thousand things besides. Sandford still made his observations, and being unused to conceal his thoughts before the present company, he said bluntly,
“Miss Fenton was indisposed the other night, my Lord, and you did not seem half thus anxious about her.”
Had Sandford laid all Lord Elmwood’s estate at Miss Milner’s feet, or presented her with that eternal bloom which adorns the face of a goddess, he would have done less to endear himself to her, than by this one sentence—she looked at him with a most benign countenance, and felt affliction that she had ever offended him.
“Miss Fenton,” Lord Elmwood replied, “has a brother with her: her health and happiness are in his care—Miss Milner’s are in mine.”
“Mr. Sandford,” said Miss Milner, “I am afraid that I behaved uncivilly to you last night—will you accept of an atonement?”
“No, Madam,” returned he, “I accept no expiation without amendment.”
“Well, then,” said she, smiling, “suppose I promise never to offend you again, what then?”
“Why, then, you’ll break your promise.”
“Do not promise him,” said Lord Elmwood, “for he means to provoke you to it.”