“Oh Heavens!” exclaimed Matilda, clasping her hands together, and the tears falling still faster.
“Do not be so much alarmed, my dear,” said Miss Woodley; “you know we are prepared for the worst; and you know you promised your mother, whatever your fate should be, to submit with patience.”
“Yes,” replied Matilda, “and I am prepared for every thing, but my father’s refusal to my dear mother.”
“Your father has not refused your mother’s request,” replied Sandford.
She was leaping from her seat in ecstasy.
“But,” continued he, “do you know what her request was?”
“Not entirely,” replied Matilda, “and since it is granted, I am careless. But she told me her letter concerned none but me.”
To explain perfectly to Matilda, Lady Elmwood’s letter, and that she might perfectly understand upon what terms she was admitted into Elmwood Castle, Sandford now read the letter to her; and repeated, as nearly as he could remember, the whole of the conversation that passed between Lord Elmwood and himself; not even sparing, through an erroneous delicacy, any of those threats her father had denounced, should she dare to transgress the limits he prescribed—nor did he try to soften, in one instance, a word he uttered. She listened sometimes with tears, sometimes with hope, but always with awe, and with terror, to every sentence in which her father was concerned. Once she called him cruel—then exclaimed “He was kind;” but at the end of Sandford’s intelligence, concluded “that she was happy and grateful for the boon bestowed.” Even her mother had not a more exalted idea of Lord Elmwood’s worth than his daughter had formed; and this little bounty just obtained, would not have been greater in her mother’s estimation, than it was now in hers. Miss Woodley, too, smiled at the prospect before her—she esteemed Lord Elmwood beyond any mortal living—she was proud to hear what he had said in her praise, and overjoyed at the prospect of being once again in his company; painting at the same time a thousand bright hopes, from watching every emotion of his soul, and catching every proper occasion to excite or increase his paternal sentiments. Yet she had the prudence to conceal those vague hopes from his child, lest a disappointment might prove fatal; and assuming a behaviour neither too much elated or depressed, she advised that they should hope for the best, but yet, as usual, expect and prepare for the worst.——After taking measures for quitting their melancholy abode, within the fortnight, they all departed for Elmwood Castle—Matilda, Miss Woodley, and even Sandford, first visiting Lady Elmwood’s grave, and bedewing it with their tears.