Miss Milner was enough recovered to be present at dinner, though she scarce tasted a morsel. Lord Elmwood did not dine at home, at which Miss Woodley rejoiced, but at which Mr. Sandford appeared highly disappointed. He asked the servants several times, what he said when he went out? They replied, “Nothing more than that he should not be at home to dinner.”
“I can’t imagine where he dines?” said Sandford.
“Bless me, Mr. Sandford, can’t you guess?” (cried Mrs. Horton, who by this time was made acquainted with his intended marriage) “He dines with Miss Fenton to be sure.”
“No,” replied Sandford, “he is not there; I came from thence just now, and they had not seen him all day.” Poor Miss Milner, on this, ate something; for where we hope for nothing, we receive small indulgencies with joy.
Notwithstanding the anxiety and trouble under which Miss Woodley had laboured all the morning, her heart for many weeks had not felt so light as it did this day at dinner. The confidence that she reposed in the promises of Lord Elmwood—the firm reliance she had upon his delicacy and his justice—the unabated kindness with which her friend received her, while she knew that no one suspicious thought had taken harbour in her bosom—and the conscious integrity of her own intentions, though she might have been misled by her judgment, all comforted her with the hope, she had done nothing she ought to wish recalled. But although she felt thus tranquil, in respect to what she had divulged, yet she was a good deal embarrassed with the dread of next seeing Lord Elmwood.
Miss Milner, not having spirits to go abroad, passed the evening at home. She read part of a new opera, played upon her guitar, mused, sighed, occasionally talked with Miss Woodley, and so passed the tedious hours till near ten, when Mrs. Horton asked Mr. Sandford to play a game at piquet, and on his excusing himself, Miss Milner offered in his stead, and was gladly accepted. They had just begun to play when Lord Elmwood came into the room—Miss Milner’s countenance immediately brightened, and though she was in a negligent morning dress, and looked paler than usual, she did not look less beautiful. Miss Woodley was leaning on the back of her chair to observe the game, and Mr. Sandford sat reading one of the Fathers at the other side of the fire place. Lord Elmwood, as he advanced to the table, bowed, not having seen the ladies since the morning, or Miss Milner that day: they returned the salute, and he was going up to Miss Milner, (as if to enquire of her health) when Mr. Sandford, laying down his book, said,
“My Lord, where have you been all day?”
“I have been very busy,” replied he, and walking from the card-table, went up to him.
Miss Milner played one card for another.
“You have been at Mr. Fenton’s this evening, I suppose?” said Sandford.