This gentlewoman’s visit inspired Mr. Dorriforth with some confidence
in the principles and character of his ward. The day arrived on which
she was to leave her late father’s seat, and fix her abode at Mrs.
Horton’s; and her guardian, accompanied by Miss Woodley, went in his
carriage to meet her, and waited at an inn on the road for her
reception.
After many a sigh paid to the memory of her father, Miss Milner, upon
the tenth of November, arrived at the place, half-way on her journey to
town, where Dorriforth and Miss Woodley were expecting her. Besides
attendants, she had with her a gentleman and lady, distant relations of
her mother’s, who thought it but a proper testimony of their civility
to attend her part of the way, but who so much envied her guardian the
trust Mr. Milner had reposed in him, that as soon as they had delivered
her safe into his care, they returned.
When the carriage, which brought Miss Milner, stopped at the inn gate,
and her name was announced to Dorriforth, he turned pale—something like
a foreboding of disaster trembled at his heart, and consequently spread
a gloom over all his face. Miss Woodley was even obliged to rouse him
from the dejection into which he was cast, or he would have sunk
beneath it: she was obliged also to be the first to welcome his lovely
charge.—Lovely beyond description.
But the natural vivacity, the gaiety which report had given to Miss
Milner, were softened by her recent sorrow to a meek sadness—and that
haughty display of charms, imputed to her manners, was changed to a
pensive demeanor. The instant Dorriforth was introduced to her by Miss
Woodley as her “Guardian, and her deceased father’s most beloved
friend,” she burst into tears, knelt down to him for a moment, and
promised ever to obey him as her father. He had his handkerchief to his
face at the time, or she would have beheld the agitation—the remotest
sensations of his heart.
This affecting introduction being over, after some minutes passed in
general conversation, the carriages were again ordered; and, bidding
farewell to the relations who had accompanied her, Miss Milner, her
guardian, and Miss Woodley departed for town; the two ladies in Miss
Milner’s carriage, and Dorriforth in that in which he came.
Miss Woodley, as they rode along, made no attempts to ingratiate
herself with Miss Milner; though, perhaps, such an honour might
constitute one of her first wishes—she behaved to her but as she
constantly behaved to every other human creature—that, was sufficient
to gain the esteem of a person possessed of an understanding equal to
Miss Milner’s—she had penetration to discover Miss Woodley’s unaffected
worth, and was soon induced to reward it with the warmest friendship.