nxiety--and by the light, frivolous, or resentful
manner in which she treated his admonitions, she triumphed in shewing to
Miss Woodley, and, more especially to Mr. Sandford, how much she dared
upon the strength of his affections.
Everything in preparation for their marriage, which was to take place at
Elmwood House during the summer months, she resolved for the short time
she had to remain in London to let no occasion pass of tasting all those
pleasures that were not likely ever to return; but which, though eager
as she was in their pursuit, she never placed in competition with those
she hoped would succeed--those more sedate and superior joys, of
domestic and conjugal happiness. Often, merely to hasten on the tedious
hours that intervened, she varied and diverted them, with the many
recreations her intended husband could not approve.
It so happened, and it was unfortunate it did, that a lawsuit concerning
some possessions in the West Indies, and other intricate affairs that
came with his title and estate, frequently kept Lord Elmwood from his
house part of the day; sometimes the whole evening; and when at home,
would often closet him for hours with his lawyers. But while he was thus
off his guard, Sandford never was--and had Miss Milner been the dearest
thing on earth to him, he could not have watched her more narrowly; or
had she been the frailest thing on earth, he could not have been more
hard upon her, in all the accounts of her conduct he gave to her
guardian. Lord Elmwood knew, on the other hand, that Sandford's failing
was to think ill of Miss Milner--he pitied him for it, and he pitied her
for it--and in all the aggravation which his representations gave to her
real follies, affection for them both, in the heart of Dorriforth, stood
between that and every other impression.
But facts are glaring; and he, at length, beheld those faults in their
true colours, though previously pointed out by the prejudice of Mr.
Sandford.
As soon as Sandford perceived his friend's uneasiness, "There, my Lord!"
cried he, exultingly, "did I not always say the marriage was an improper
one? but you would not be ruled--you would not see."
"Can you blame _me_ for not seeing," replied his Lordship, "when _you_
were blind? Had you been dispassionate, had you seen Miss Milner's
virtues as well as her faults, I should have believed, and been guided
by you--but you saw her failings only, and therein have been equally
deceived with
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