Miss Woodley--wishing he might answer in the affirmative.

"Not that I can foresee. No, Heaven forbid," he replied, "for I look
upon them to be formed for each other--their dispositions, their
pursuits, their inclinations the same. Their passions for each other
just the same--pure--white as snow."

"And I dare say, not warmer," replied Miss Milner.

He looked provoked beyond measure.

"My dear," cried Miss Woodley, "how can you talk thus? I believe in my
heart you are only envious, because my Lord Elmwood has not offered
himself to you."

"To her!" said Sandford, affecting an air of the utmost surprise; "to
her! Do you think he received a dispensation from his vows, to become
the husband of a coquette--a----."--He was going on.

"Nay, Mr. Sandford," cried Miss Milner, "I believe, after all, my worst
crime, in your eyes, is that of being a heretic."

"By no means--it is the only circumstance that can apologize for your
faults; and if you had not that excuse, there would be none for you."

"Then, at present, there _is_ an excuse--I thank you, Mr. Sandford--this
is the kindest thing you ever said to me. But I am vext to see that you
are sorry you have said it."

"Angry at your being a heretic!" he resumed--"Indeed I should be much
more concerned to see you a disgrace to our religion."

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 thi