“Not a word.”
“I wish him to marry, that I may then conclude the deeds in respect to my estate,—and the only child of Sir William Winterton (a rich heiress) was the wife I meant to propose; but from his indifference to all I have said on the occasion, I have not yet mentioned her name to him; you may.”
“I will, my Lord, and use all my persuasion to engage his obedience; and you shall have, at least, a faithful account of what he says.”
Sandford the next morning sought an opportunity of being alone with Rushbrook—he then plainly repeated to him what Lord Elmwood had said, and saw him listen to it all, and heard him answer with the most tranquil resolution, “That he would do any thing to preserve the friendship and patronage of his uncle—but marry.”
“What can be your reason?” asked Sandford—though he guessed.
“A reason, I cannot give to Lord Elmwood.”
“Then do not give it to me, for I have promised to tell him every thing you say to me.”
“And every thing I have said?” asked Rushbrook hastily.
“As to what you have said, I don’t know whether it has made impression enough on my memory, to enable me to repeat it.”
“I am glad it has not.”