He named Miss Woodley first, to prolong the time before he mentioned Matilda; for though to name her gave him extreme pleasure, yet it was a pleasure accompanied by confusion and pain. “They are both very well,” replied Sandford, “at least they did not complain they were sick.” “They are not in spirits, I suppose?” said Rushbrook. “No, indeed:” replied Sandford, shaking his head. “No new misfortune has happened, I hope?” cried Rushbrook; for it was plain to see Sandford’s spirits were unusually cast down. “Nothing new,” returned he, “except the insolence of a young nobleman.” “What nobleman?” cried Rushbrook. “A lover of Lady Matilda’s,” replied Sandford. Rushbrook was petrified. “Who? What lover, Mr. Sandford?—explain?” They were now arrived at the house; and Sandford, without making any reply to this question, said to the servant who took his horse, “She has come a long way this morning; take care of her.” This interruption was torture to Rushbrook, who kept close to his side, in order to obtain a further explanation; but Sandford, without attending to him, walked negligently into the hall, and before they advanced many steps, they were met by Lord Elmwood. All further information was put an end to for the present. “How do you do, Sandford?” said Lord Elmwood with extreme kindness; as if he thanked him for the journey which, it was likely, he suspected he had been taking. “I am indifferently well, my Lord:” replied he, with a face of deep concern, and a tear in his eye, partly in gratitude for his patron’s civility, and partly in reproach for his cruelty. It was not now till the evening, that Rushbrook had an opportunity of renewing the conversation, which had been so barbarously interrupted. In the evening, no longer able to support the suspense into which he was thrown; without fear or shame, he followed Sandford into his chamber at the time of his retiring, and entreated of him, with all the anxiety he suffered, to explain his allusion when he talked of a lover, and of insolence to Lady Matilda. Sandford, seeing his emotion, was angry with himself that he had inadvertently mentioned the subject; and putting on an air of surly importance, desired,—if he had any business with him, that he would call in the morning. Exasperated at so unexpected a reception, and at the pain of his disappointment, Rushbrook replied, “He treated him cruelly, nor would he stir out of his room, till he had received a satisfactory answer to his question.” “Then bring your bed,” replied Sandford, “for you must pass your whole night here.” He found it vain to think of obtaining any intelligence by threats, he therefore said in a timid and persuasive manner, “Did you, Mr. Sandford, hear Lady Matilda mention my name?” “Yes,” replied Sandford, a little better reconciled to him. “Did you tell her what I lately declared to you?” he asked with still more diffidence. “No,” replied Sandford.