“But as that is impossible,” answered he, “I shall suppose, till proof appears, that I have been mistaken in my conjectures.” Matilda looked deeply concerned that the argument should conclude in her disappointment; for to have believed herself thought of with tenderness by her father, would have alone constituted her happiness. When the servant came up with something by way of supper, he told Mr. Sandford that his Lord was returned from his walk and had enquired for him; Sandford immediately bade his companions good night, and left them. “How strange is this!” cried Matilda, when Miss Woodley and she were alone, “My father within a few rooms of me, and yet I am debarred from seeing him! Only by walking a few paces I could be at his feet, and perhaps receive his blessing!” “You make me shudder,” cried Miss Woodley; “but some spirits less timid than mine, might perhaps advise you to the experiment.” “Not for worlds!” returned Matilda, “no counsel could tempt me to such temerity—and yet to entertain the thought that it is possible I could do this, is a source of infinite comfort.” This conversation lasted till bed time, and later; for they sat up beyond their usual hour to indulge it. Miss Woodley slept little, but Matilda less—she awaked repeatedly during the night, and every time sighed to herself, “I sleep in the same house with my father! Blessed spirit of my mother, look down and rejoice.” CHAPTER VII. The next day the whole Castle appeared to Lady Matilda (though she was in some degree retired from it) all tumult and bustle, as was usually the case while Lord Elmwood was there. She saw from her windows, the servants running across the yards and park; horses and carriages driving with fury; all the suite of a nobleman; and it sometimes elated, at other times depressed her. These impressions however, and others of fear and anxiety, which her father’s arrival had excited, by degrees wore off; and after some little time, she was in the same tranquil state that she enjoyed before he came.