“No,” cried Lord Frederick, “not till you have told me when I shall see you again.” “I will write you word, my Lord,” replied she, something alarmed. “You shall have a letter immediately after I get home.” As if he guessed what its contents were to be, he cried out with warmth, “Take care, then, Madam, how you treat me in that letter—and you, Mr. Dorriforth,” turning to him, “do you take care what it contains; for if it is dictated by you, to you I shall send the answer.” Dorriforth, without making any reply, or casting a look at him, put his head out of the window on the opposite side, and called, in a very angry tone, to the coachman, “How dare you not drive on, when your Lady orders you?” The sound of Dorriforth’s voice in anger, was to the servants so unusual, that it acted like electricity upon the man, and he drove on at the instant with such rapidity, that Lord Frederick was in a moment left many yards behind. As soon, however, as he recovered from the surprise into which this sudden command had thrown him, he rode with speed after the carriage, and followed it, till it arrived at the door of Miss Milner’s house; there, giving himself up to the rage of love, or to rage against Dorriforth for the contempt he had shewn to him, he leaped from his horse when Miss Milner stepped from her carriage, and seizing her hand, entreated her “Not to desert him, in compliance with the injunctions of monkish hypocrisy.” Dorriforth heard this, standing silently by, with a manly scorn upon his countenance. Miss Milner struggled to loose her hand, saying, “Excuse me from replying to you now, my Lord.” In return, he lifted her hand eagerly to his lips, and began to devour it with kisses; when Dorriforth, with an instantaneous impulse, rushed forward, and struck him a violent blow in the face. Under the force of this assault, and the astonishment it excited, Lord Frederick staggered, and letting fall the hand of Miss Milner, her guardian immediately laid hold of it, and led her into the house. She was terrified beyond description; and with extreme difficulty Mr. Dorriforth conveyed her to her own chamber, without taking her in his arms. When, by the assistance of her maid, he had placed her upon a sofa—covered with shame and confusion for what he had done, he fell upon his knees before her, and earnestly “Entreated her forgiveness for the indelicacy he had been guilty of in her presence.” And that he had alarmed her, and had forgot the respect which he thought sacredly her due, seemed the only circumstance which then dwelt upon his thoughts. She felt the indecorum of the posture he had condescended to take, and was shocked. To see her guardian at her feet, struck her with a sense of impropriety, as if she had seen a parent there. All agitation and emotion, she implored him to rise, and, with a thousand protestations, declared, “That she thought the rashness of the action was the highest proof of his regard for her.”