“If you really feel compassion for me, and I believe you do, contrive some means by your answers to Lord Elmwood to pacify him, without involving me in ruin. Hint at my affections being engaged, but not to whom; and add, that I have given my word, if he will allow me a short time, a year or two only, I will, during that period, try to disengage them, and use all my power to render myself worthy of the union for which he designs me.” “And this is not only your solemn promise—but your fixed determination?” “Nay, why will you search my heart to the bottom, when the surface ought to content you?” “If you cannot resolve on what you have proposed, why do you ask this time of your uncle? For should he allow it you, at the expiration, your disobedience to his commands will be less pardonable than it is now.” “Within a year, Mr. Sandford, who can tell what strange events may not occur, to change all our prospects? Even my passion may decline.” “In that expectation, then—the failure of which yourself must answer for—I will repeat as much of this discourse as shall be proper.” Here Rushbrook communicated his having been to see Lady Matilda, for which Sandford reproved him, but in less rigorous terms than he generally used in his reproofs; and Rushbrook, by his entreaties, now gained the intelligence who the nobleman was who addressed Matilda, and on what views; but was restrained to patience, by Sandford’s arguments and threats. Upon the subject of this marriage, Sandford met his patron, without having determined exactly what to say, but rested on the temper in which he should find him. At the commencement of the conversation he said, “Rushbrook begged for time.” “I have given him time, have I not?” cried Lord Elmwood: “What can be the meaning of his thus trifling with me?” Sandford replied, “My Lord, young men are frequently romantic in their notions of love, and think it impossible to have a sincere affection, where their own inclinations do not first point out the choice.” “If he is in love,” answered Lord Elmwood, “let him take the object, and leave my house and me for ever. Nor under this destiny can he have any claim to pity; for genuine love will make him happy in banishment, in poverty, or in sickness: it makes the poor man happy as the rich, the fool blest as the wise.” The sincerity with which Lord Elmwood had loved, was expressed more than in words, as he said this. “Your Lordship is talking,” replied Sandford, “of the passion in its most refined and predominant sense; while I may possibly be speaking of a mere phantom, that has led this young man astray.” “Whatever it be,” returned Lord Elmwood, “let him and his friends weigh the case well, and act for the best—so shall I.” “His friends, my Lord?—What friends, or what friend has he upon earth but you?” “Then why will he not submit to my advice; or himself give me a proper reason why he cannot?”