"Nay, do not let me add to your uneasiness," he resumed, "while I am
attempting to alleviate it. Instruct me what I can do to show my esteem
and respect, rather than permit me thus unguided, to rush upon what you
may construe into insult and arrogance."

Miss Woodley went to Matilda, took her hand, then wiped the tears from
her eyes, while Matilda reclined against her, entirely regardless of
Rushbrook's presence.

"If I have been in the least instrumental to this sorrow,"--said
Rushbrook, with a face as much agitated as his mind.

"No," said Miss Woodley, in a low voice, "you have not--she is often
thus."

"Yes," said Matilda, raising her head, "I am frequently so weak that I
cannot resist the smallest incitement to grief. But do not make your
visit long, Mr. Rushbrook," she continued, "for I was just then
thinking, that should Lord Elmwood hear of this attention you have paid
me, it might be fatal to you." Here she wept again, as bitterly as
before.

"There is no probability of his hearing of it, Madam," Rushbrook
replied; "or if there was, I am persuaded that he would not resent it;
for yesterday, when I am confident he knew that Mr. Sandford had been to
see you, he received him on his return, with unusual marks of
kindness."

"Did he?" said she--and again she lifted up her head; her eyes for a
moment beaming with hope and joy.

"There is something which we cannot yet define," said Rushbrook, "that
Lord Elmwood struggles with; but when time shall have eradicated"----

Before he could proceed further, Matilda was once more sunk into
despondency, and scarce attended to what he was saying.

Miss Woodley observing this, said, "Mr. Rushbrook, let it be a token we
shall be glad to see you hereafter, that I now use the freedom to beg
you will put an end to your visit."

"You send me away, Madam," returned he, "with the warmest thanks for the
reception you have give me; and this last assurance of your kindness, is
beyond any other favour you could have bestowed. Lady Matilda," added
he, "suffer me to take your hand at parting, and let it be a testimony
that you acknowledge me for a relation."

She put out her hand--which he knelt to receive, but did not raise it to
his lips--he held the boon too sacred--and looking earnestly upon it, as
it lay pale and wan in his, he breathed one sigh over it, and withdrew.

CHAPTER VII.

Sorrowful and affecting as this interview had been, Rushbrook, as he
rode home,