Earl resided in town; he then mostly stole a visit to Lady
Elmwood.--On this last visit he staid to see her buried.

After some mature deliberations, Sandford was now preparing to go to
Lord Elmwood at his house in town, and there, to deliver himself the
news that must sooner or later be told; and he meant also to venture, at
the same time, to keep the promise he had made to his dying Lady--but the
news reached his Lordship before Sandford arrived; it was announced in
the public papers, and by that means first came to his knowledge.

He was breakfasting by himself, when the newspaper that first gave the
intelligence of Lady Elmwood's death, was laid before him--the paragraph
contained these words:

"On Wednesday last died, at Dring Park, a village in Northumberland, the
right honourable Countess Elmwood.--This lady, who has not been heard of
for many years in the fashionable world, was a rich heiress, and of
extreme beauty; but although she received overtures from many men of the
first rank, she preferred her guardian, the present Lord Elmwood (then
Mr. Dorriforth) to them all--and it is said, their marriage was followed
by an uncommon share of felicity, till his Lordship going abroad, and
remaining there some time, the consequences (to a most captivating young
woman left without a protector) were such as to cause a separation on
his return. Her Ladyship has left one child by the Earl, a daughter,
about fifteen."

Lord Elmwood had so much feeling upon reading this, as to lay down the
paper, and not take it up again for several minutes--nor did he taste his
chocolate during this interval, but leaned his elbow on the table and
rested his head upon his hand. He then rose up--walked two or three times
across the room--sat down again--took up the paper--and read as usual.--Nor
let the vociferous mourner, or the perpetual weeper, here complain of
his want of sensibility--but let them remember that Lord Elmwood was a
man--a man of understanding--of courage--of fortitude--above all, a man of
the nicest feelings--and who shall say, but that at the time he leaned
his head upon his hand, and rose to walk away the sense of what he felt,
he might not feel as much as Lady Elmwood did in her last moments.

Be this as it may, his susceptibility on the occasion was not suspected
by any one--yet he passed that day the same as usual; the next day too,
and the day after. On the morning of the fourth, he sent for his steward
to his stu