Encouraged, nevertheless, by her friend in the commendable desire of gaining the affections of him, who possessed all her own, she, however, left no means unattempted for the conquest—but she began with too great a certainty of success, not to be sensible of the deepest mortification in the disappointment—nay, she anticipated a disappointment, as she had before anticipated her success; by turns feeling the keenest emotions from hope and from despair.
As these passions alternately governed her, she was alternately in spirits or dejected; in good or in ill humour; and the vicissitudes of her prospect at length gave to her behaviour an air of caprice, which not all her follies had till now produced. This was not the way to secure the affections of Lord Elmwood; she knew it was not; and before him she was under some restriction. Sandford observed this, and without reserve, added to the list of her other failings, hypocrisy. It was plain to see that Mr. Sandford esteemed her less and less every day; and as he was the person who most influenced the opinion of her guardian, he became to her, very soon, an object not merely of dislike, but of abhorrence.
These mutual sentiments were discoverable in every word and action, while they were in each other’s company; but still in his absence, Miss Milner’s good nature, and total freedom from malice, never suffered her to utter a sentence injurious to his interest. Sandford’s charity did not extend thus far; and speaking of her with severity one evening while she was at the opera, “His meaning,” as he said, “but to caution her guardian against her faults,” Lord Elmwood replied,
“There is one fault, however, Mr. Sandford, I cannot lay to her charge.”
“And what is that, my Lord?” cried Sandford, eagerly, “What is that one fault, which Miss Milner has not?”
“I never,” replied Lord Elmwood, “heard Miss Milner, in your absence, utter a syllable to your disadvantage.”
“She dares not, my Lord, because she is in fear of you and she knows you would not suffer it.”
“She then,” answered his Lordship, “pays me a much higher compliment than you do; for you freely censure her, and yet imagine I will suffer it.”
“My Lord,” replied Sandford, “I am undeceived now, and shall never take that liberty again.”
As Lord Elmwood always treated Sandford with the utmost respect, he began to fear he had been deficient upon this occasion; and the disposition which had induced him to take his ward’s part, was likely, in the end, to prove unfavourable to her; for perceiving Sandford was offended at what had passed, as the only means of retribution, he began himself to lament her volatile and captious propensities; in which lamentation, Sandford, now forgetting his affront, joined with the heartiest concurrence, adding,