Unexpected affairs, in which Lord Elmwood had been for some time engaged, had diverted his attention for awhile from the marriage of his nephew; nor did he at this time find his disposition sufficiently severe, to exact from the young man a compliance with his wishes, at so cruel an alternative as that of being for ever discarded. He felt his mind, by the late incident, too much softened for such harshness; he yet wished for the alliance he had proposed; for he was more consistent in his character than to suffer the tenderness his daughter’s peril had awakened, to derange those plans which he had long projected. Never even now, for a moment did he indulge—for perhaps it would have been an indulgence—the idea of replacing her exactly in the rights of her birth, to the disappointment of all his nephew’s expectations. Yet, milder at this crisis in his temper than he had been for years before, and knowing he could be no longer irritated upon the subject of his daughter, he once more resolved to trust himself in a conference with Rushbrook on the subject of marriage; meaning at the same time to mention Matilda as an opponent from whom he had nothing to fear. But for some time before Rushbrook was called to this private audience, he had, by his unwearied attention, endeavoured to impress upon Matilda’s mind, the softest sentiments in his favour. He succeeded—but not as he wished. She loved him as her friend, her cousin, her foster-brother, but not as a lover. The idea of love never once came to her thoughts; and she would sport with Rushbrook like the most harmless child, while he, all impassioned, could with difficulty resist telling her, what she made him suffer. At the meeting between him and Lord Elmwood, to which he was called for his final answer on that subject which had once nearly proved so fatal to him; after a thousand fears, much confusion and embarrassment, he at length frankly confessed his “Heart was engaged, and had been so, long before his uncle offered to direct his choice.” Lord Elmwood desired to know, “On whom he had placed his affections.” “I dare not tell you, my Lord,” returned he, infinitely confused; “but Mr. Sandford can witness their sincerity and how long they have been fixed.” “Fixed!” cried the Earl. “Immoveably fixed, my Lord; and yet the object is as unconscious of my love to this moment, as you yourself have been; and I swear ever shall be so, without your permission.” “Name the object,” said Lord Elmwood, anxiously. “My Lord, I dare not.—The last time I named her to you, you threatened to abandon me for my arrogance.” Lord Elmwood started.——“My daughter! Would you marry her?” “But with your approbation, my Lord; and that——” Before he could proceed a word further, his uncle left the room hastily—and left Rushbrook all terror for his approaching fate.