“But mine have been the most gratifying,” replied he; “for I have seen—what I must always love.”
Sandford sighed, and lifted up his hands.
“Mr. Sandford,” resumed Lord Elmwood, with a voice and manner such as he used to put on when not all the power of Sandford, or of any other, could change his fixed determination, “Mr. Sandford, my eyes are now open to every failing, as well as to every accomplishment; to every vice, as well as to every virtue of Miss Milner; nor will I suffer myself to be again prepossessed in her favour, by your prejudice against her—for I believe it was compassion at your unkind treatment, that first gained her my heart.”
“I, my Lord?” cried Sandford; “do not load me with the burthen—with the mighty burthen of your love for her.”
“Do not interrupt me. Whatever your meaning has been, the effect of it is what I have described. Now, I will no longer,” continued he, “have an enemy, such as you have been, to heighten her charms, which are too transcendent in their native state. I will hear no more complaints against her, but I will watch her closely myself—and if I find her mind and heart (such as my suspicions have of late whispered) too frivolous for that substantial happiness I look for with an object so beloved, depend upon my word—the marriage shall yet be broken off.”
“I depend upon your word; it will then,”—replied Sandford eagerly.
“You are unjust, Sir, in saying so before the trial,” replied Lord Elmwood, “and your injustice shall make me more cautious, lest I follow your example.”
“But, my Lord——”
“My mind is made up, Mr. Sandford,” returned he, interrupting him; “I am no longer engaged to Miss Milner than she shall deserve I should be—but, in my strict observations upon her conduct, I will take care not to wrong her as you have done.”
“My Lord, call my observations wrong, when you have reflected upon them as a man, and not as a lover—divest yourself of your passion, and meet me upon equal ground.”