She and Mrs. Horton were both standing as well as Lord Elmwood; but Miss Milner kept her seat, till his eye was turned upon her, and he moved slowly towards her; she then rose:—every one who was present, attentive to what he would now say, and how she would receive what he said, here cast their eyes upon them, and listened with impatience. They were all disappointed—he did not utter a syllable. Yet he took her hand, and held it closely between his. He then bowed most respectfully and left her.
No “I wish you well;—I wish you health and happiness.” No “Prayers for blessings on her.” Not even the word “Farewell,” escaped his lips—perhaps, to have attempted any of these, might have choaked his utterance.
She had behaved with fortitude the whole evening, and she continued to do so, till the moment he turned away from her. Her eyes then overflowed with tears, and in the agony of her mind, not knowing what she did, she laid her cold hand upon the person next to her—it happened to be Sandford; but not observing it was he, she grasped his hand with violence—yet he did not snatch it away, nor look at her with his wonted severity. And thus she stood, silent and motionless, while Lord Elmwood, now at the door, bowed once more to all the company, and retired.
Sandford had still Miss Milner’s hand fixed upon his; and when the door was shut after Lord Elmwood, he turned his head to look in her face, and turned it with some marks of apprehension for the grief he might find there. She strove to overcome that grief, and after a heavy sigh, sat down, as if resigned to the fate to which she was decreed.
Instead of following Lord Elmwood, as usual, Sandford poured out a glass of wine, and drank it. A general silence ensued for near three minutes. At last, turning himself round on his seat, towards Miss Milner, who sat like a statue of despair at his side, “Will you breakfast with us to-morrow?” said he.
She made no answer.
“We shan’t breakfast before half after six,” continued he, “I dare say; and if you can rise so early—why do.”
“Miss Milner,” said Miss Woodley, (for she caught eagerly at the hope of her passing this night in less unhappiness than she had foreboded) “pray rise at that hour to breakfast; Mr. Sandford would not invite you, if he thought it would displease Lord Elmwood.”
“Not I,” replied Sandford, churlishly.
“Then desire her maid to call her:” said Mrs. Horton to Miss Woodley.