“And yet I thought he held me in his arms,” she replied—“I thought I felt his hands press mine.—Let me sleep and dream again.” Now thinking it best to undeceive her, “It is no dream, my dear,” returned Miss Woodley. “Is it not?” cried she, starting up and leaning on her elbow—“Then I suppose I must go away—go for ever away.” Sandford now entered. Having been told the news, he came to condole—but at the sight of him Matilda was terrified, and cried, “Do not reproach me, do not upbraid me—I know I have done wrong—I know I had but one command from my father, and that I have disobeyed.” Sandford could not reproach her, for he could not speak; he therefore only walked to the window and concealed his tears. That whole day and night was passed in sympathetic grief, in alarm at every sound, lest it should be a messenger to pronounce Matilda’s destiny. Lord Elmwood did not stay upon this visit above three hours at Elmwood House; he then set off again for the seat he had left; where Rushbrook still remained, and from whence his Lordship had merely come by accident, to look over some writings which he wanted dispatched to town. During his short continuance here, Sandford cautiously avoided his presence; for he thought, in a case like this, what nature would not of herself effect, no art, no arguments of his, could accomplish: to Nature and Providence he left the whole. What these two powerful principles brought about, the reader will judge, when he peruses the following letter, received early the next morning by Miss Woodley. A SIMPLE STORY, IN FOUR VOLUMES, BY MRS. INCHBALD. VOL. IV. _THE FOURTH EDITION._ LONDON: Printed for G. G. and J. ROBINSON, PATERNOSTER ROW. 1799. A SIMPLE STORY. CHAPTER I. _A letter from Giffard, Lord Elmwood’s House Steward, to Miss Woodley._ “Madam, “My Lord, above a twelvemonth ago, acquainted me he had permitted his daughter to reside in his house; but at the same time he informed me, the grant was under a certain restriction, which, if ever broken, I was to see his then determination (of which he also acquainted me) put in execution. In consequence of Lady Matilda’s indisposition, Madam, I have ventured to delay this notice till morning.—I need not say with what concern I now give it, or mention to you, I believe, what is forfeited. My Lord staid but a few hours yesterday, after the unhappy circumstance on which I write, took place; nor did I see him after, till he was in his carriage; he then sent for me to the carriage door, and told me he should be back in two days time, and added, ‘Remember your duty.’ That duty, I hope, Madam, you will not require me to explain in more direct terms.—As soon as my Lord returns, I have no doubt but he will ask me if it is fulfilled, and I shall be under the greatest apprehension, should his commands not be obeyed.