Miss Woodley, vexed to the heart, and provoked every time she saw Lord Elmwood and Rushbrook together, and saw the familiar terms on which this young man lived with his benefactor, now made her visits to him very seldom. If Lord Elmwood observed this, he did not appear to observe it; and though he received her politely when she did pay him a visit, it was always very coldly; nor did she suppose if she never went, he would ever ask for her. For his daughter’s sake, however, she thought it right sometimes to shew herself before him; for she knew it must be impossible that, with all his apparent indifference, he could ever see _her_ without thinking for a moment on his child; and what one fortunate thought might some time bring about, was an object much too serious for her to overlook. She therefore, after remaining confined to her apartments near three weeks, (excepting those anxious walks she and Matilda stole, while Lord Elmwood dined, or before he rose in a morning) went one forenoon into his apartments, where, as usual, she found him, with Mr. Sandford, and Mr. Rushbrook. After she had sat about half an hour, conversing with them all, though but very little with the latter, Lord Elmwood was called out of the room upon some business; presently after, Sandford; and now, by no means pleased with the companion with whom she was left, she rose, and was going likewise, when Rushbrook fixed his speaking eyes upon her, and cried, “Miss Woodley, will you pardon me what I am going to say?” “Certainly, Sir. You can, I am sure, say nothing but what I must forgive.” But she made this reply with a distance and a reserve, very unlike the usual manners of Miss Woodley. He looked at her earnestly and cried, “Ah! Miss Woodley, you don’t behave so kindly to me as you used to do!” “I do not understand you, Sir,” she replied very gravely; “Times are changed, Mr. Rushbrook, since you were last here—you were then but a child.” “Yet I love all those persons now, that I loved then,” replied he; “and so I shall for ever.” “But you mistake, Mr. Rushbrook; I was not even then so very much the object of your affections—there were other ladies you loved better. Perhaps you don’t remember Lady Elmwood?” “Don’t I,” cried he, “Oh!” (clasping his hands and lifting up his eyes to heaven) “shall I ever forget her?”