“What will the absence of a few months effect?” said she, pleading her own cause; “At the end of a few months at farthest, he will expect me back, and where then will be the merit of this separation?”
“In that time,” replied Miss Woodley, “we may find some method to make it longer.” To this she listened with a kind of despair, but uttered, she “Was resigned,”—and she prepared for her departure.
Dorriforth was all anxiety that every circumstance of her journey should be commodious; he was eager she should be happy; and he was eager she should see that he entirely forgave her. He would have gone part of the way with her, but for the extreme illness of Lord Elmwood, in whose chamber he passed most of the day, and slept in Elmwood House every night.
On the morning of her journey, when Dorriforth gave his hand and conducted Miss Milner to the carriage, all the way he led her she could not restrain her tears; which increased, as he parted from her, to convulsive sobs. He was affected by her grief; and though he had previously bid her farewell, he drew her gently on one side, and said, with the tenderest concern,
“My dear Miss Milner, we part friends?—I hope we do?—On my side, depend upon it, that I regret nothing so much at our separation, as having ever given you a moment’s pain.”
“I believe so,” was all she could utter, for she hastened from him, lest his discerning eye should discover the cause of the weakness which thus overcame her. But her apprehensions were groundless; the rectitude of his own heart was a bar to the suspicion of her’s. He once more kindly bade her adieu, and the carriage drove away.
Miss Fenton and Miss Woodley accompanied her part of the journey, about thirty miles, where they were met by Sir Harry and Lady Luneham. Here was a parting nearly as affecting as that between her and her guardian. Miss Woodley, who for several weeks had treated her friend with a rigidness she herself hardly supposed was in her nature, now bewailed that she had done so; implored her forgiveness; promised to correspond with her punctually, and to omit no opportunity of giving her every consolation short of cherishing her fatal passion—but in that, and that only, was the heart of Miss Milner to be consoled.
END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.