A Simple Story

by Mrs. Inchbald

  CHAPTER II.

  Dorriforth returned to London heavily afflicted for the loss of hisfriend; and yet, perhaps, with his thoughts more engaged upon the trustwhich that friend had reposed in him. He knew the life Miss Milner hadbeen accustomed to lead; he dreaded the repulses his admonitions mightpossibly meet; and feared he had undertaken a task he was too weak toexecute--the protection of a young woman of fashion.

  Mr. Dorriforth was nearly related to one of our first Catholic Peers;his income was by no means confined, but approaching to affluence; yetsuch was his attention to those in poverty, and the moderation of hisown desires, that he lived in all the careful plainness of oeconomy. Hishabitation was in the house of a Mrs. Horton, an elderly gentlewoman,who had a maiden niece residing with her, not many years younger thanherself. But although Miss Woodley was thirty-five, and in personexceedingly plain, yet she possessed such an extreme cheerfulness oftemper, and such an inexhaustible fund of good nature, that she escapednot only the ridicule, but even the appellation of an old maid.

  In this house Dorriforth had lived before the death of Mr. Horton; norupon that event had he thought it necessary, notwithstanding hisreligious vow of celibacy, to fly the roof of two such innocent femalesas Mrs. Horton and her niece. On their part, they regarded him with allthat respect and reverence which the most religious flock shews to itspastor; and his friendly society they not only esteemed a spiritual, buta temporal advantage, as the liberal stipend he allowed for hisapartments and board, enabled them to continue in the large andcommodious house which they had occupied during the life of Mr. Horton.

  Here, upon Mr. Dorriforth's return from his journey, preparations weremade for the reception of his ward; her father having made it hisrequest that she might, for a time at least, reside in the same housewith her guardian, receive the same visits, and cultivate theacquaintance of his companions and friends.

  When the will of her father was made known to Miss Milner, shesubmitted, without the least reluctance, to all he had required. Hermind, at that time impressed with the most poignant sorrow for his loss,made no distinction of happiness that was to come; and the day wasappointed, with her silent acquiescence, when she was to arrive inLondon, and there take up her abode, with all the retinue of a richheiress.

  Mrs. Horton was delighted with the addition this acquisition to herfamily was likely to make to her annual income, and style of living. Thegood-natured Miss Woodley was overjoyed at the expectation of their newguest, yet she herself could not tell why--but the reason was, that herkind heart wanted a more ample field for its benevolence; and now herthoughts were all pleasingly employed how she should render, not onlythe lady herself, but even all her attendants, happy in their newsituation.

  The reflections of Dorriforth were less agreeably engaged--Cares, doubts,fears, possessed his mind--and so forcibly possessed it, that upon everyoccasion which offered, he would inquisitively endeavour to gainintelligence of his ward's disposition before he saw her; for he was, asyet, a stranger not only to the real propensities of her mind, but evento her person; a constant round of visits having prevented his meetingher at her father's, the very few times he had been at his house, sinceher final return from school. The first person whose opinion he, withall proper reserve, asked concerning Miss Milner, was Lady Evans, thewidow of a Baronet, who frequently visited at Mrs. Horton's.

  But that the reader may be interested in what Dorriforth says and does,it is necessary to give some description of his person and manners. Hisfigure was tall and elegant, but his face, except a pair of dark brighteyes, a set of white teeth, and a graceful fall in his clerical curls ofbrown hair, had not one feature to excite admiration--yet such a gleam ofsensibility was diffused over each, that many people mistook his facefor handsome, and all were more or less attracted by it--in a word, thecharm, that is here meant to be described, is a _countenance_--on _his_you read the feelings of his heart--saw all its inmost workings--thequick pulses that beat with hope and fear, or the gentle ones that movedin a more equal course of patience and resignation. On this countenancehis thoughts were pourtrayed; and as his mind was enriched with everyvirtue that could make it valuable, so was his face adorned with everyexpression of those virtues--and they not only gave a lustre to hisaspect, but added a harmonious sound to all he uttered; it waspersuasive, it was perfect eloquence; whilst in his looks you beheld histhoughts moving with his lips, and ever coinciding with what he said.

  With one of those interesting looks which revealed the anxiety of hisheart, and yet with that graceful restraint of all gesticulation, forwhich he was remarkable, even in his most anxious concerns, he addressedLady Evans, who had called on Mrs. Horton to hear and to request thenews of the day: "Your Ladyship was at Bath last spring--you know theyoung lady to whom I have the honour of being appointed guardian.Pray,"--

  He was earnestly intent upon asking a question, but was prevented by theperson interrogated.

  "Dear Mr. Dorriforth, do not ask me any thing about Miss Milner--when Isaw her she was very young: though indeed that is but three months ago,and she can't be much older now."

  "She is eighteen," answered Dorriforth, colouring with regret at thedoubts which this lady had increased, but not inspired.

  "And she is very beautiful, that I can assure you," said Lady Evans.

  "Which I call no qualification," said Dorriforth, rising from his chairin evident uneasiness.

  "But where there is nothing else, let me tell you, beauty is something."

  "Much worse than nothing, in my opinion," returned Dorriforth.

  "But now, Mr. Dorriforth, do not from what I have said, frightenyourself, and imagine your ward worse than she really is--all I know ofher, is merely, that she's young, idle, indiscreet, and giddy, with halfa dozen lovers in her suite; some coxcombs, others men of gallantry,some single, and others married."

  Dorriforth started. "For the first time of my life," cried he with amanly sorrow, "I wish I had never known her father."

  "Nay," said Mrs. Horton, who expected every thing to happen just as shewished, (for neither an excellent education, the best company, or longexperience had been able to cultivate or brighten this good lady'sunderstanding,) "Nay," said she, "I am sure, Mr. Dorriforth, you willsoon convert her from all her evil ways."

  "Dear me," returned Lady Evans, "I am sure I never meant to hint at anything evil--and for what I have said, I will give you up my authors ifyou please; for they were not observations of my own; all I do is tomention them again."

  The good-natured Miss Woodley, who sat working at the window, an humble,but an attentive listener to this discourse, ventured here to sayexactly six words: "Then don't mention them any more."

  "Let us change the subject," said Dorriforth.

  "With all my heart," cried Lady Evans; "and I am sure it will be to theyoung lady's advantage."

  "Is Miss Milner tall or short?" asked Mrs. Horton, still wishing forfarther information.

  "Oh, tall enough of all conscience," returned she; "I tell you againthat no fault can be found with her person."

  "But if her mind is defective"--exclaimed Dorriforth, with a sigh----

  "That may be improved as well as the person," cried Miss Woodley.

  "No, my dear," returned Lady Evans, "I never heard of a pad to makestraight an ill-shapen disposition."

  "Oh, yes," answered Miss Woodley, "good company, good books, experience,and the misfortunes of others, may have more power to form the mind tovirtue, than"----

  Miss Woodley was not permitted to proceed, for Lady Evans rising hastilyfrom her seat, cried, "I must be gone--I have an hundred people waitingfor me at home--besides, were I inclined to hear a sermon, I shoulddesire Mr. Dorriforth to preach, and not you."

  Just then Mrs. Hillgrave was announced. "And here is Mrs. Hillgrave,"continued she--"I believe, Mrs. Hillgrave, you know Miss Milner, don'tyou? The young lady who has lately lost her father."

  Mrs. Hillgrave was the wife of a merchant who had met with severelosses: as soon as th
e name of Miss Milner was uttered, she lifted upher hands, and the tears started in her eyes.

  "There!" cried Lady Evans, "I desire you will give your opinion of her,and I am sorry I cannot stay to hear it." Saying this, she curtsied andtook her leave.

  When Mrs. Hillgrave had been seated a few minutes, Mrs. Horton, wholoved information equally with the most inquisitive of her sex, askedthe new visitor--"If she might be permitted to know, why, at the mentionof Miss Milner, she had seemed so much affected?"

  This question exciting the fears of Dorriforth, he turned anxiouslyround, attentive to the reply.

  "Miss Milner," answered she, "has been my benefactress and the best Iever had." As she spoke, she took out her handkerchief and wiped awaythe tears that ran down her face.

  "How so?" cried Dorriforth eagerly, with his own eyes moistened withjoy, nearly as much as her's were with gratitude.

  "My husband, at the commencement of his distresses," replied Mrs.Hillgrave, "owed a sum of money to her father, and from repeatedprovocations, Mr. Milner was determined to seize upon all oureffects--his daughter, however, by her intercessions, procured us time,in order to discharge the debt; and when she found _that_ time wasinsufficient, and her father no longer to be dissuaded from hisintention, she secretly sold some of her most valuable ornaments tosatisfy his demand, and screen us from its consequences."

  Dorriforth, pleased at this recital, took Mrs. Hillgrave by the hand,and told her, "she should never want a friend."

  "Is Miss Milner tall, or short?" again asked Mrs. Horton, fearing, fromthe sudden pause which had ensued, the subject should be dropped.

  "I don't know," answered Mrs. Hillgrave.

  "Is she handsome, or ugly?"

  "I really can't tell."

  "It is very strange you should not take notice!"

  "I did take notice, but I cannot depend upon my own judgment--to me sheappeared beautiful as an angel; but perhaps I was deceived by thebeauties of her disposition."