It seemed but a very short time they were at breakfast, when the carriage, that was to take Lord Elmwood away, drove to the door. Miss Milner started at the sound—so did he—but she had nearly dropped her cup and saucer; on which Sandford took them out of her hand, saying,
“Perhaps you had rather have coffee?”
Her lips moved, but he could not hear what she said.
A servant came in, and told Lord Elmwood, “The carriage was at the door.”
He replied, “Very well.” But though he had breakfasted, he did not attempt to move.
At last, rising briskly, as if it was necessary to go in haste when he did go; he took up his hat, which he had brought with him into the room, and was turning to Miss Woodley to take his leave, when Sandford cried, “My Lord, you are in a great hurry.” And then, as if he wished to give poor Miss Milner every moment he could, added, (looking about) “I don’t know where I have laid my gloves.”
Lord Elmwood, after repeating to Miss Woodley his last night’s farewell, now went up to Miss Milner, and taking one of her hands, again held it between his, but still without speaking—while she, unable to suppress her tears as heretofore, suffered them to fall in torrents.
“What is all this?” cried Sandford, going up to them in anger.
They neither of them replied, or changed their situation.
“Separate this moment,” cried Sandford, “or resolve to be separated only by—death.”