er gratitude was expressed in blushes, and by assuring him
she was now "So well, as to sup on the dishes before her." She spoke,
however, and had not made the trial; for the moment she carried a morsel
to her lips, she laid it on her plate again, and turned paler, from the
vain endeavour to force her appetite. Lord Elmwood had always been
attentive to her; but now he watched her as he would a child; and when
he saw by her struggles that she could not eat, he took her plate from
her; gave her something else; and all with a care and watchfulness in
his looks, as if he had been a tender-hearted boy, and she his darling
bird, the loss of which would embitter all the joy of his holidays.

This attention had something in it so tender, so officious, and yet so
sincere, that it brought the tears into Miss Woodley's eyes, attracted
the notice of Mr. Sandford, and the observation of Mrs. Horton; while
the heart of Miss Milner overflowed with a gratitude, that gave place to
no sentiment except her love.

To relieve the anxiety which her guardian expressed, she endeavoured to
appear cheerful, and that anxiety, at length, really made her so. He now
pressed her to take one glass of wine with such solicitude, that he
seemed to say a thousand things besides. Sandford still made his
observations, and being unused to conceal his thoughts before the
present company, he said bluntly,

"Miss Fenton was indisposed the other night, my Lord, and you did not
seem half thus anxious about her."

Had Sandford laid all Lord Elmwood's estate at Miss Milner's feet, or
presented her with that eternal bloom which adorns the face of a
goddess, he would have done less to endear himself to her, than by this
one sentence--she looked at him with a most benign countenance, and felt
affliction that she had ever offended him.

"Miss Fenton," Lord Elmwood replied, "has a brother with her: her health
and happiness are in _his_ care--Miss Milner's are in mine."

"Mr. Sandford," said Miss Milner, "I am afraid that I behaved uncivilly
to you last night--will you accept of an atonement?"

"No, Madam," returned he, "I accept no expiation without amendment."

"Well, then," said she, smiling, "suppose I promise never to offend you
again, what then?"

"Why, then, you'll break your promise."

"Do not promise him," said Lord Elmwood, "for he means to provoke you to
it."

In the like conversation the evening passed, and Miss Milner retired to
rest in far bette