“I think not,” he replied: “such as it is, however, I grant it: but in the strictest sense of the word—no farther—and one neglect of my commands, releases me from this promise totally.” “We will take care, Sir, not to disobey them.” “Then listen to what they are, for to you I give the charge of delivering them again. Lady Elmwood has petitioned me in the name of her father, (a name I reverence) to give his grandchild the sanction of my protection. In the literal sense, to suffer that she may reside at one of my seats; dispensing at the same time with my ever seeing her.” “And you will comply?” “I will, till she encroaches on this concession, and dares to hope for a greater. I will, while she avoids my sight, or the giving me any remembrance of her. But if, whether by design or by accident, I ever see or hear from her, that moment, my compliance to her mother’s supplication ceases, and I abandon her once more.” Sandford sighed. Lord Elmwood continued: “I am glad her request stopped where it did. I would rather comply with her desires than not; and I rejoice they are such as I can grant with ease and honour to myself. I am seldom now at Elmwood castle; let her daughter go there; the few weeks or months I am down in the summer, she may easily in that extensive house avoid me—while she does, she lives in security—when she does not—you know my resolution.” Sandford bowed—the Earl resumed: “Nor can it be a hardship to obey this command—she cannot lament the separation from a parent whom she never knew—” Sandford was going eagerly to prove the error of that assertion, but he prevented him, saying, “In a word—without farther argument—if she obeys me in this, I will provide for her as my daughter during my life, and leave her a fortune at my death—but if she dares—” Sandford interrupted the menace prepared for utterance, saying, “and you still mean, I suppose, to make Mr. Rushbrook your heir?” “Have you not heard me say so? And do you imagine I have changed my determination? I am not given to alter my resolutions, Mr. Sandford; and I thought you knew I was not; besides, will not my title be extinct, whoever I make my heir? Could any thing but a son have preserved my title?” “Then it is yet possible——” “By marrying again, you mean? No—no—I have had enough of marriage—and Henry Rushbrook I shall leave my heir. Therefore, Sir——” “My Lord, I do not presume—” “Do not, Sandford, and we may still be good friends. But I am not to be controlled as formerly; my temper is changed of late; changed to what it was originally; till your religious precepts reformed it. You may remember, how troublesome it was, to conquer my stubborn disposition in my youth; _then_, indeed, you _did_; but in my more advanced age, you will find the task too difficult.” Sandford again repeated, “He should not presume—”