Charlotte perceiving that her friend was
determined, for some inexplicable reason, to be
alone, quietly resumed her seat. Her musing air
was soon changed to one of surprise, by the
following remark of her companion:
"You appear, Miss Henley," he said, "to be
sensitively alive to the ailings of all you know but
me."
"I did not know that you were ill, Mr. Delafield!
Really, sir, I never met with any gentleman's looks
which so belied him, if you are otherwise than both
well and happy."
As much experience as Delafield possessed in the
trifling manoeuvres of managers, or perhaps in the
manifestations of feelings that are exhibited by
every-day people, he was an absolute novice in the
emotions of a pure, simple, ingenuous female
heart. He was alive to the compliment to his
acknowledged good looks, conveyed in this speech,
but he was not able to appreciate the single-
heartedness that prompted it. Perhaps his
handsome face was as much illuminated by the
consciousness of this emotion as by the deeper
feeling he actually experienced, while he replied,--
"I am well, or ill, as you decree. Miss Henley; it is
impossible that you should live in the world, and be
seen, be known as you are, and must have been
seen and known, and not long since learned the
power you possess over the happiness of
hundreds."
Though Charlotte was simple, unsuspecting, pure,
and extremely modest, she was far from dull--she
was not now to learn the difference between the
language of ordinary trifling and general
compliment, and that to which she now listened,
and which, however vague, was still so particular as
to induce her to remain silent.
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