At half after eleven, Miss Milner’s chair, and another with Miss Woodley, took them from Lord Elmwood’s, to call upon the party (wood-nymphs and huntresses) who were to accompany them, and make up the suit of Diana. They had not left the house two minutes, when a thundering rap came at the door—it was Lord Elmwood in a post chaise. Upon some occasion the next day’s hunt was deferred: he had been made acquainted with it, and came from Windsor at that late hour. After he had informed Mrs. Horton and Mr. Sandford, who were sitting together, of the cause of his sudden return, and had supper ordered for him, he enquired, “What company had just left the house?” “We have been alone the whole evening, my Lord,” replied Mrs. Horton. “Nay,” returned he, “I saw two chairs, with several servants, come out of the door as I drove up, but what livery I could not discern.” “We have had no creature here,” repeated Mrs. Horton. “Nor has Miss Milner had visitors?” asked he. This brought Mrs. Horton to her recollection, and she cried, “Oh! now I know;”——and then checked herself, as if she knew too much. “What do you know, Madam?” said he, sharply. “Nothing,” said Mrs. Horton, “I know nothing—” and she lifted up her hands and shook her head. “So all people say, who know a great deal,” cried Sandford, “and I suspect that is at present your case.” “Then I know more than I wish, I am sure, Mr. Sandford,” returned she, shrugging up her shoulders. Lord Elmwood was all impatience. “Explain, Madam, explain.” “Dear my Lord,” said she, “if your Lordship will recollect, you may just have the same knowledge that I have.” “Recollect what?” said he sternly. “The quarrel you and your ward had about the masquerade.” “What of that? she is not gone there?” he cried. “I am not sure she is,” returned Mrs. Horton; “but if your Lordship saw two sedan chairs going out of this house, I cannot but suspect it must be Miss Milner and my niece going to the masquerade.” He made no answer, but rang the bell violently. A servant entered. “Send Miss Milner’s maid hither,” said he, “immediately.” The man withdrew. “Nay, my Lord,” cried Mrs. Horton, “any of the other servants could tell you just as well, whether Miss Milner is at home, or gone out.” “Perhaps not,” replied he. The maid entered. “Where is your mistress?” said Lord Elmwood. The woman had received no orders to conceal where the ladies were gone, and yet a secret influence which governs the thoughts of all waiting-women and chambermaids, whispered to her that she ought not to tell the truth. “Where is your mistress?” repeated he, in a louder voice than before. “Gone out, my Lord,” she replied. “Where?” “My Lady did not tell me.” “And don’t you know?” “No, my Lord:” she answered, and without blushing. “Is this the night of the masquerade?” said he. “I don’t know, my Lord, upon my word; but, I believe, my Lord, it is not.”