“I know, Miss Milner,” continued he, “the world in general allows to unmarried women great latitude in disguising their mind with respect to the man they love. I too, am willing to pardon any little dissimulation that is but consistent with a modesty that becomes every woman upon the subject of marriage. But here, to what point I may limit, or you may extend, this kind of venial deceit, may so widely differ, that it is not impossible for me to remain unacquainted with your sentiments, even after you have revealed them to me. Under this consideration, I wish once more to hear your thoughts in regard to matrimony, and to hear them before one of your own sex, that I may form an opinion by her constructions.” To all this serious oration, Miss Milner made no other reply than by turning to Mr. Sandford, and asking, “If he was the person of her own sex, to whose judgment her guardian was to submit his own?” “Madam,” cried Sandford angrily, “you are come hither upon serious business.” “Any business must be serious to me, Mr. Sandford, in which you are concerned; and if you had called it _sorrowful_, the epithet would have suited as well.” “Miss Milner,” said her guardian, “I did not bring you here to contend with Mr. Sandford.” “Then why, Sir, bring him hither? for where he and I are, there must be contention.” “I brought him hither, Madam, or I should rather say, brought you to this house, merely that he might be present on this occasion, and with his discernment relieve me from a suspicion, that my own judgment is neither able to suppress nor to confirm.” “Are there any more witnesses you may wish to call in, Sir, to remove your doubts of my veracity? if there are, pray send for them before you begin your interrogations.” He shook his head—she continued. “The whole world is welcome to hear what I say, and every different person is welcome to judge me differently.” “Dear Miss Milner,”—cried Miss Woodley, with a tone of reproach for the vehemence with which she had spoken. “Perhaps, Miss Milner,” said Dorriforth, “you will not now reply to those questions I was going to put?” “Did I ever refuse, Sir,” returned she with a self-approving air, “to comply with any request that you have seriously made? Have I ever refused obedience to your commands whenever you thought proper to lay them upon me? If not, you have no right to suppose that I will do so now.” He was going to reply, when Mr. Sandford sullenly interrupted him, and making towards the door, cried, “When you come to the point for which you brought me here, send for me again.” “Stay now,” said Dorriforth. “And Miss Milner,” continued he, “I not only entreat, but command you to tell me—have you given your word, or your affections to Lord Frederick Lawnly?”