“My Lord, I do not presume—”
“Do not, Sandford, and we may still be good friends. But I am not to be controlled as formerly; my temper is changed of late; changed to what it was originally; till your religious precepts reformed it. You may remember, how troublesome it was, to conquer my stubborn disposition in my youth; then, indeed, you did; but in my more advanced age, you will find the task too difficult.”
Sandford again repeated, “He should not presume—”
To which Lord Elmwood again made answer, “Do not, Sandford;” and added, “for I have a sincere regard for you, and should be loath, at these years, to quarrel with you seriously.”
Sandford turned away his head to conceal his feelings.
“Nay, if we do quarrel,” resumed Lord Elmwood, “You know it must be your own fault; and as this is a theme the most likely of any, nay, the only one on which we can have a difference (such as we cannot forgive) take care never from this day to resume it; indeed that of itself, would be an offence I could not pardon. I have been clear and explicit in all I have said; there can be no fear of mistaking my meaning; therefore, all future explanation is unnecessary—nor will I permit a word, or a hint on the subject from any one, without shewing my resentment even to the hour of my death.” He was going out of the room.
“But before we bid adieu to the subject for ever, my Lord—there was another person whom I named to you—”
“Do you mean Miss Woodley? Oh, by all means let her live at Elmwood House too. On consideration, I have no objection to see Miss Woodley at any time—I shall be glad to see her—do not let her be frightened at me—to her I shall be the same, that I have always been.”
“She is a good woman, my Lord,” cried Sandford, pleased.
“You need not tell me that, Mr. Sandford; I know her worth.” And he left the room.