To the farm-house, the place of Matilda’s residence, there came, besides Sandford, another visitor far less welcome—Viscount Margrave. He had heard with surprise, and still greater joy, that Lord Elmwood had once more shut his doors against his daughter. In this her discarded state, he no longer burthened his lively imagination with the dull thoughts of marriage, but once more formed the idea of making her his mistress.
Ignorant of a certain decorum which attended all Lord Elmwood’s actions, he suspected that his child might be in want; and an acquaintance with the worst part of her sex informed him, that relief from poverty was the sure bargain for his success. With these hopes, he again paid Miss Woodley and her a visit; but the coldness of the former, and the haughtiness of the latter, still kept him at a distance, and again made him fear to give one allusion to his purpose: but he returned home resolved to write what he durst not speak—he did so—he offered his services, his purse, his house—they were rejected with contempt, and a stronger prohibition than ever given to his visits.
CHAPTER III.
Lord Elmwood had now allowed Rushbrook a long vacation, in respect to his answer upon the subject of marriage; and the young man vainly imagined, his intentions upon that subject were entirely given up. One morning, however, as he was attending him in the library,
“Henry,”——said his uncle, with a pause at the beginning of his speech, which indicated that he was going to say something of importance, “Henry——you have not forgot the discourse I had with you a little time previous to your illness?”
Henry hesitated—for he wished to have forgotten it—but it was too strongly impressed upon his memory. Lord Elmwood resumed,
“What! equivocating again, Sir? Do you remember it, or do you not?”
“Yes, my Lord, I do.”
“And are you prepared to give me an answer?”