A Simple Story | Page 9

the same house with
her guardian, receive the same visits, and cultivate the acquaintance of
his companions and friends.
When the will of her father was made known to Miss Milner, she
submitted, without the least reluctance, to all he had required. Her mind,
at that time impressed with the most poignant sorrow for his loss, made
no distinction of happiness that was to come; and the day was

appointed, with her silent acquiescence, when she was to arrive in
London, and there take up her abode, with all the retinue of a rich
heiress.
Mrs. Horton was delighted with the addition this acquisition to her
family was likely to make to her annual income, and style of living.
The good-natured Miss Woodley was overjoyed at the expectation of
their new guest, yet she herself could not tell why--but the reason was,
that her kind heart wanted a more ample field for its benevolence; and
now her thoughts were all pleasingly employed how she should render,
not only the lady herself, but even all her attendants, happy in their new
situation.
The reflections of Dorriforth were less agreeably engaged--Cares,
doubts, fears, possessed his mind--and so forcibly possessed it, that
upon every occasion which offered, he would inquisitively endeavour
to gain intelligence of his ward's disposition before he saw her; for he
was, as yet, a stranger not only to the real propensities of her mind, but
even to her person; a constant round of visits having prevented his
meeting her at her father's, the very few times he had been at his house,
since her final return from school. The first person whose opinion he,
with all proper reserve, asked concerning Miss Milner, was Lady Evans,
the widow 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. His
figure was tall and elegant, but his face, except a pair of dark bright
eyes, a set of white teeth, and a graceful fall in his clerical curls of
brown hair, had not one feature to excite admiration--yet such a gleam
of sensibility was diffused over each, that many people mistook his
face for handsome, and all were more or less attracted by it--in a word,
the charm, that is here meant to be described, is a countenance--on his
you read the feelings of his heart--saw all its inmost workings--the
quick pulses that beat with hope and fear, or the gentle ones that moved
in a more equal course of patience and resignation. On this countenance
his thoughts were pourtrayed; and as his mind was enriched with every
virtue that could make it valuable, so was his face adorned with every

expression of those virtues--and they not only gave a lustre to his
aspect, but added a harmonious sound to all he uttered; it was
persuasive, it was perfect eloquence; whilst in his looks you beheld his
thoughts moving with his lips, and ever coinciding with what he said.
With one of those interesting looks which revealed the anxiety of his
heart, and yet with that graceful restraint of all gesticulation, for which
he was remarkable, even in his most anxious concerns, he addressed
Lady Evans, who had called on Mrs. Horton to hear and to request the
news of the day: "Your Ladyship was at Bath last spring--you know the
young lady to whom I have the honour of being appointed guardian.
Pray,"--
He was earnestly intent upon asking a question, but was prevented by
the person interrogated.
"Dear Mr. Dorriforth, do not ask me any thing about Miss
Milner--when I saw 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 the
doubts 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 chair in
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, frighten
yourself, and imagine your ward worse than she really is--all I know of
her, is merely, that she's young, idle, indiscreet, and giddy, with half a
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 a manly
sorrow, "I wish I had never known her father."
"Nay," said Mrs. Horton, who expected every thing to happen just as
she wished, (for neither an excellent education, the best company,