“Are there any more witnesses you may wish to call in, Sir, to remove your doubts of my veracity? if there are, pray send for them before you begin your interrogations.”
He shook his head—she continued.
“The whole world is welcome to hear what I say, and every different person is welcome to judge me differently.”
“Dear Miss Milner,”—cried Miss Woodley, with a tone of reproach for the vehemence with which she had spoken.
“Perhaps, Miss Milner,” said Dorriforth, “you will not now reply to those questions I was going to put?”
“Did I ever refuse, Sir,” returned she with a self-approving air, “to comply with any request that you have seriously made? Have I ever refused obedience to your commands whenever you thought proper to lay them upon me? If not, you have no right to suppose that I will do so now.”
He was going to reply, when Mr. Sandford sullenly interrupted him, and making towards the door, cried, “When you come to the point for which you brought me here, send for me again.”
“Stay now,” said Dorriforth. “And Miss Milner,” continued he, “I not only entreat, but command you to tell me—have you given your word, or your affections to Lord Frederick Lawnly?”
The colour spread over her face, and she replied—“I thought confessions were always to be in secret; however, as I am not a member of your church, I submit to the persecution of a heretic, and I answer—Lord Frederick has neither my word, nor any share in my affections.”
Sandford, Dorriforth, and Miss Woodley looked at each other with a degree of surprise that for some time kept them silent. At length Dorriforth said, “And it is your firm intention never to become his wife?”