“Then you believe that love is not in my nature?”
“No more of it, my Lord, than habit could very soon extinguish.”
“But I would not have it extinguished—I would rather it should mount to a flame, for I think it a crime to be insensible of the divine blessings love can bestow.”
“Then you indulge the passion to avoid a sin?—this very motive deters Mr. Dorriforth from that indulgence.”
“It ought to deter him, for the sake of his oaths—but monastick vows, like those of marriage, were made to be broken—and surely when your guardian looks at you, his wishes”——
“Are never less pure,” she replied eagerly, “than those which dwell in the bosom of my celestial guardian.”
At that instant Dorriforth entered the room. The colour had mounted into Miss Milner’s face from the warmth with which she had delivered her opinion, and his accidental entrance at the very moment this praise had been conferred upon him in his absence, heightened the blush to a deep glow on every feature—confusion and earnestness caused even her lips to tremble and her whole frame to shake.
“What’s the matter?” cried Dorriforth, looking with concern on her discomposure.
“A compliment paid by herself to you, Sir,” replied Lord Frederick, “has affected your ward in the manner you have seen.”
“As if she blushed at the untruth,” said Dorriforth.