Miss Milner had not been in a good humour the whole evening—she had been provoked several times to the full extent of her patience: but this harsh sentence hurried her beyond all bounds, and she arose from her seat in the most violent agitation, exclaiming, “What have I done to be thus treated?” Though Mr. Sandford was not a man easily intimidated, he was upon this occasion evidently alarmed; and stared about him with so violent an expression of surprise, that it partook, in some degree, of fear. Miss Woodley clasped her friend in her arms, and cried with the tenderest affection and pity, “My dear Miss Milner, be composed.” Miss Milner sat down, and was so for a minute; but her dead silence was almost as alarming to Sandford as her rage had been; and he did not perfectly recover himself till he saw tears pouring down her face. He then heaved a sigh of content that all had thus ended; but in his heart resolved never to forget the ridiculous affright into which he had been thrown. He stole out of the room without uttering a syllable—but as he never retired to rest before he had repeated a long form of evening prayer, when this evening he came to that part which supplicates “Grace for the wicked,” he mentioned Miss Milner’s name with the most fervent devotion. CHAPTER V. Of the many restless nights that Miss Milner passed, this was not one. It is true, she had a weight of care upon her heart, even heavier than usual, but the burden had overcome her strength: wearied out with hopes, with fears, and, at the end, with disappointment and rage, she sunk at once into a deep slumber. But the more forgetfulness had then prevailed, the more powerful was the force of remembrance when she awoke. At first, so sound her sleep had been, that she had a difficulty in calling to mind why she was unhappy; but that she _was_ unhappy she well recollected—when the cause came to her memory, she would have slept again—but it was impossible. Though her rest had been sound, it had not been refreshing—she was far from well, and sent word of her indisposition, as an apology for not being present at breakfast. Lord Elmwood looked concerned when the message was delivered—Mr. Sandford shook his head. “Miss Milner’s health is not good!” said Mrs. Horton a few minutes after. Lord Elmwood laid down the newspaper to attend to her. “To me, there is something very extraordinary about her!” continued Mrs. Horton, finding she had caught his Lordship’s attention. “So there is to me!” added Sandford, with a sarcastic sneer. “And so there is to me!” said Miss Woodley, with a serious face and a heartfelt sigh. Lord Elmwood gazed by turns at each, as each delivered their sentiments—and when they were all silent, he looked bewildered, not knowing what judgment to form from any of these sentences.