Her friend looked at her as if to discover some lurking wish, adverse to all these protestations, but she could not discern one. Sandford too fixed his penetrating eyes upon her, as if he would look through her soul, but finding it perfectly composed, he cried out,
“Why then not write his dismission herself, and save you, Mr. Dorriforth, the trouble of any farther contest with him?”
“Indeed, Miss Milner,” said Dorriforth, “that would oblige me; for it is with great reluctance that I meet him upon this subject—he was extremely impatient and importunate when he was last with me—he took advantage of my ecclesiastical situation to treat me with a levity and ill breeding, that I could ill have suffered upon any other consideration than a compliance with my duty.”
“Dictate what you please, Mr. Dorriforth, and I will write it,” said she, with a warmth like the most unaffected inclination. “And while you, Sir,” she continued, “are so indulgent as not to distress me with the importunities of any gentleman to whom I am averse, I think myself equally bound to rid you of the impertinence of every one to whom you may have objection.”
“But,” answered he, “rest assured I have no material objection to my Lord Frederick, except from that dilemma, in which your acquaintance with him has involved us all; and I should conceive the same against any other man, where the same circumstance occurred. As you have now, however, freely and politely consented to the manner in which it has been proposed that you shall break with him, I will not trouble you a moment longer upon a subject on which I have so frequently explained my wishes, but conclude it by assuring you, that your ready acquiescence has given me the sincerest satisfaction.”
“I hope, Mr. Sandford,” said she, turning to him with a smile, “I have given you satisfaction likewise?”
Sandford could not say yes, and was ashamed to say no; he, therefore, made answer only by his looks, which were full of suspicion. She, notwithstanding, made him a very low courtesy. Her guardian then handed her out of the apartment into her coach, which was waiting to take her, Miss Woodley, and himself, home.
CHAPTER XIII.
Notwithstanding the seeming readiness with which Miss Milner had resigned all farther acquaintance with Lord Frederick, during the short ride home she appeared to have lost great part of her wonted spirits; she was thoughtful, and once sighed heavily. Dorriforth began to fear that she had not only made a sacrifice of her affections, but of her veracity; yet, why she had done so, he could not comprehend.