d Sandford, "of the passion in its
most refined and predominant sense; while I may possibly be speaking of
a mere phantom, that has led this young man astray."

"Whatever it be," returned Lord Elmwood, "let him and his friends weigh
the case well, and act for the best--so shall I."

"His friends, my Lord?--What friends, or what friend has he upon earth
but you?"

"Then why will he not submit to my advice; or himself give me a proper
reason why he cannot?"

"Because there may be friendship without familiarity--and so it is
between him and you."

"That cannot be; for I have condescended to talk to him in the most
familiar terms."

"To condescend, my Lord, is _not_ to be familiar."

"Then come, Sir, let us be on an equal footing through you. And now
speak out _his_ thoughts freely, and hear mine in return."

"Why, then, he begs a respite for a year or two."

"On what pretence?"

"To me, it was preference of a single life--but I suspect it is--what he
imagines to be love--and for some object whom he thinks your Lordship
would disapprove."

"He has not, then, actually confessed this to you?"

"If he has, it was drawn from him by such means, that I am not warranted
to say it in direct words."

"I have entered into no contract, no agreement on his account with the
friends of the lady I have pointed out," said Lord Elmwood; "nothing
beyond implications have passed betwixt her family and myself at
present; and if the person on whom he has fixed his affections, should
not be in a situation absolutely contrary to my wishes, I may, perhaps,
confirm his choice."

That moment Sandford's courage prompted him to name Lady Matilda, but
his discretion opposed--however, in the various changes of his
countenance from the conflict, it was plain to discern that he wished to
say more than he dared.

On which Lord Elmwood cried,

"Speak on, Sandford--what are you afraid of?"

"Of you, my Lord."

He started.

Sandford went on----"I know no tie--no bond--no innocence, that is a
protection when you feel resentment."

"You are right," he replied, significantly.

"Then how, my Lord, can you encourage me to _speak on_, when that which
I perhaps would say, might offend you to hear?"

"To what, and whither are you changing our subject?" cried Lord Elmwood.
"But, Sir, if you know my resentful and relentless temper, you surely
know how to shun it."

"Not, and speak plainly."

"Then dissemble."

"No, I'll not do that--