A Simple Story

by Mrs. Inchbald

  CHAPTER VI.

  It was on a dark evening in the month of March, that Lady Matilda,accompanied by Sandford and Miss Woodley, arrived at Elmwood Castle, themagnificent seat of her father. Sandford chose the evening, rather tosteal into the house privately, than by any appearance of parade, tosuffer Lord Elmwood to be reminded of their arrival by the publicprints, or by any other accident. Nor would he give the neighbours orservants reason to suppose, the daughter of their Lord was admitted intohis house, in any other situation than that, in which she really waspermitted to be there.

  As the porter opened the gates of the avenue to the carriage thatbrought them, Matilda felt an awful, and yet gladsome sensation, whichno terms can describe. As she entered the door of the house thissensation increased--and as she passed along the spacious hall, thesplendid staircase, and many stately apartments, wonder, with a crowd ofthe tenderest, yet most afflicting sentiments, rushed to her heart. Shegazed with astonishment!--she reflected with still more.

  "And is _my father_ the master of this house?" she cried--"and was mymother once the mistress of this castle?" Here tears relieved her from apart of that burthen, which was before insupportable.

  "Yes," replied Sandford, "and you are the mistress of it now, till yourfather arrives."

  "Good God!" exclaimed she, "and will he ever arrive? and shall I live tosleep under the same roof with my father?"

  "My dear," replied Miss Woodley, "have not you been told so?"

  "Yes," said she, "but though I heard it with extreme pleasure, yet theidea never so forcibly affected me as at this moment. I now feel, as thereality approaches, that to be admitted here, is kindness enough--I donot ask for more--I am now convinced, from what this trial makes me feel,that to see my father, would occasion emotions I could not survive."

  The next morning gave to Matilda, more objects of admiration and wonder,as she walked over the extensive gardens, groves, and other pleasuregrounds belonging to the house. She, who had never been beyond thedreary, ruinous places which her deceased mother had made her residence,was naturally struck with amazement and delight at the grandeur of aseat, which travellers came for miles to see, nor thought their timemispent.

  There was one object, however, among all she saw, which attracted herattention above the rest, and she would stand for hours to look at it.This was a whole length portrait of Lord Elmwood, esteemed a verycapital picture, and a perfect likeness--to this picture she would sighand weep; though when it was first pointed out to her, she shrunk backwith fear, and it was some time before she dared venture to cast hereyes completely upon it. In the features of her father she was proud todiscern the exact mould in which her own appeared to have been modelled;yet Matilda's person, shape, and complexion were so extremely like whather mother's once were, that at the first glance she appeared to have astill greater resemblance of her, than of her father--but her mind andmanners were all Lord Elmwood's; softened by the delicacy of her sex,the extreme tenderness of her heart, and the melancholy of hersituation.

  She was now in her seventeenth year--of the same age, within a year and afew months, of her mother, when she became the ward of Dorriforth. Shewas just three years old when her father went abroad, and rememberedsomething of bidding him farewell; but more of taking cherries from hishand, as he pulled them from the tree to give to her.

  Educated in the school of adversity, and inured to retirement from herinfancy, she had acquired a taste for all those amusements which arecluse life affords. She was fond of walking and riding--wasaccomplished in the arts of music and drawing, by the most carefulinstructions of her mother--and as a scholar, she excelled most of hersex, from the pains which Sandford had taken with that part of hereducation, and the superior abilities he possessed for the task.

  In devoting certain hours of the day to study with him, others to music,riding, and such amusements, Matilda's time never appeared tedious atElmwood Castle, although she received and paid no one visit--for it wassoon divulged in the neighbourhood, upon what stipulation she resided ather father's, and studiously intimated, that the most prudent andfriendly behaviour of her true friends, would be, to take no noticewhatever that she lived among them: and as Lord Elmwood's will was a lawall around, such was the consequence of that will, known, or merelysupposed.

  Neither did Miss Woodley regret the want of visitors, but found herselffar more satisfied in her present situation, than her most sanguinehopes could have formed. She had a companion whom she loved with anequal fondness, with which she had loved her deceased mother; andfrequently, in this charming mansion, where she had so often beheld LadyElmwood, her imagination represented Matilda as her friend risen fromthe grave, in her former youth, health, and exquisite beauty.

  In peace, in content, though not in happiness, the days and weeks passedaway till about the middle of August, when preparations began to be madefor the arrival of Lord Elmwood. The week in which he was to come was atlength fixed, and some part of his retinue was arrived before him. Whenthis was told Matilda, she started, and looked just as her mother at herage had often done, when in spite of her love, she was conscious thatshe had offended him, and was terrified at his approach. Sandfordobserving this, put out his hand, and taking hers, shook it kindly; andbade her (but it was not in a cheering tone) "not be afraid." This gaveher no confidence; and she began, before her father's arrival, toseclude herself in the apartments allotted for her during the time ofhis stay; and in the timorous expectation of his coming, her appetitedeclined, and she lost all her colour. Even Miss Woodley, whose spiritshad been for some time elated with the hopes she had formed, on drawingnear to the test, found those hopes vanished; and though she endeavouredto conceal it, she was full of apprehensions. Sandford, had certainlyfewer fears than either; yet upon the eve of the day on which his patronwas to arrive, he was evidently cast down.

  Lady Matilda once asked him--"Are you certain, Mr. Sandford, you made nomistake in respect to what Lord Elmwood said, when he granted mymother's request? Are you sure he _did_ grant it? Was there nothingequivocal on which he may ground his displeasure should he be told thatI am here? Oh do not let me hazard being once again turned out of hishouse! Oh! save me from provoking him perhaps to curse me." And here sheclasped her hands together with the most fervent petition, in the dreadof what might happen.

  "If you doubt my words or my senses," said Sandford, "call Giffard, andlet him inform you; the same words were repeated to him as to me."

  Though from her reason, Matilda could not doubt of any mistake from Mr.Sandford, yet her fears suggested a thousand scruples; and thisreference to the steward she received with the utmost satisfaction,(though she did not think it necessary to apply to him) as it perfectlyconvinced her of the folly of the suspicions she had entertained.

  "And yet, Mr. Sandford," said she, "if it is so, why are you lesscheerful than you were? I cannot help thinking but it must be yourexpectation of Lord Elmwood, which has occasioned this change."

  "I don't know," replied Sandford, carelessly, "but I believe I am grownafraid of your father. His temper is a great deal altered from what itonce was--he raises his voice, and uses harsh expressions upon the leastprovocation--his eyes flash lightning, and his face is distorted withanger upon the slightest motives--he turns away his old servants at amoment's warning, and no concession can make their peace. In a word, Iam more at my ease when I am away from him--and I really believe," addedhe with a smile, but with a tear at the same time, "I really believe, Iam more afraid of _him_ in my age, than he was of _me_ when he was aboy."

  Miss Woodley was present; she and Matilda looked at one another; andeach of them saw the other turn pale at this description.

  The day at length came, on which Lord Elmwood was expected to dinner. Itwould have been a high gratification to his daughter to have gone to thetopmost window of the house, and have only beheld his carriage enter theavenue; but it was a gratification which her fears, her tremor, herextreme sensibility would not permit her to enjoy.

  Miss Woodley a
nd she, sat down that day to dinner in their retiredapartments, which were detached from the other part of the house by agallery; and of the door leading to the gallery, they had a key toimpede any one from passing that way, without first ringing a bell; toanswer which, was the sole employment of a servant, who was placed thereduring the Earl's residence, lest by any accident he might chance tocome near that unfrequented part of the house, on which occasion the manwas to give immediate notice to his Lady.

  Matilda and Miss Woodley sat down to dinner, but did not dine. Sandforddined as usual, with Lord Elmwood. When tea was brought, Miss Woodleyasked the servant, who attended, if he had seen his Lord. The mananswered, "Yes, Madam; and he looks vastly well." Matilda wept with joyto hear it.

  About nine in the evening, Sandford rang at the bell, and wasadmitted--never had he been so welcome--Matilda hung upon him, as if hisrecent interview with her father, had endeared him to her more thanever; and staring anxiously in his face, seemed to enquire of himsomething about Lord Elmwood, and something that should not alarm her.

  "Well--how do you find yourself?" said he to her.

  "How are you, Mr. Sandford?" she returned, with a sigh.

  "Oh! very well," replied he.

  "Is my Lord in a good temper?" asked Miss Woodley.

  "Yes; very well," replied Sandford, with indifference.

  "Did he seem glad to see you?" asked Matilda.

  "He shook me by the hand," replied Sandford.

  "That was a sign he was glad to see you, was it not?" said Matilda.

  "Yes; but he could not do less."

  "Nor more:" replied she.

  "He looks very well, our servant tells us," said Miss Woodley.

  "Extremely well indeed," answered Sandford: "and to tell the truth, Inever saw him in better spirits."

  "That is well--" said Matilda, and sighed a weight of fears from herheart.

  "Where is he now, Mr. Sandford?"

  "Gone to take a walk about his grounds, and I stole here in the meantime."

  "What was your conversation during dinner?" asked Miss Woodley.

  "Horses, hay, farming, and politics."

  "Won't you sup with him?"

  "I shall see him again before I go to bed."

  "And again to-morrow!" cried Matilda, "what happiness!"

  "He has visitors to-morrow," said Sandford, "coming for a week or two."

  "Thank Heaven," said Miss Woodley, "he will then be diverted fromthinking on us."

  "Do you know," returned Sandford, "it is my firm opinion, that histhinking of ye at present, is the cause of his good spirits."

  "Oh, Heavens!" cried Matilda, lifting up her hands with rapture.

  "Nay, do not mistake me," said Sandford; "I would not have you build afoundation for joy upon this surmise; for if he is in spirits that youare in this house--so near him--positively under his protection--yet hewill not allow himself to think it is the cause of his content--and thesentiments he has adopted, and which are now become natural to him, willremain the same as ever; nay, perhaps with greater force, should hesuspect his weakness (as he calls it) acting in opposition to them."

  "If he does but think of me with tenderness," cried Matilda, "I amrecompensed."

  "And what recompense would his kind thoughts be to you," said Sandford,"were he to turn you out to beggary?"

  "A great deal--a great deal," she replied.

  "But how are you to know he has these kind thoughts, if he gives you noproof of them?"

  "No, Mr. Sandford; but _supposing_ we could know them without proof."

  "But as that is impossible," answered he, "I shall suppose, till proofappears, that I have been mistaken in my conjectures."

  Matilda looked deeply concerned that the argument should conclude in herdisappointment; for to have believed herself thought of with tendernessby her father, would have alone constituted her happiness.

  When the servant came up with something by way of supper, he told Mr.Sandford that his Lord was returned from his walk and had enquired forhim; Sandford immediately bade his companions good night, and left them.

  "How strange is this!" cried Matilda, when Miss Woodley and she werealone, "My father within a few rooms of me, and yet I am debarred fromseeing him! Only by walking a few paces I could be at his feet, andperhaps receive his blessing!"

  "You make me shudder," cried Miss Woodley; "but some spirits less timidthan mine, might perhaps advise you to the experiment."

  "Not for worlds!" returned Matilda, "no counsel could tempt me to suchtemerity--and yet to entertain the thought that it is possible I could dothis, is a source of infinite comfort."

  This conversation lasted till bed time, and later; for they sat upbeyond their usual hour to indulge it.

  Miss Woodley slept little, but Matilda less--she awaked repeatedly duringthe night, and every time sighed to herself, "I sleep in the same housewith my father! Blessed spirit of my mother, look down and rejoice."