There are, I believe,
Miss Henley, spirits in the world who commune with
each other imperceptibly, who seem formed for
each other, and who know and love each other as
by instinct."
"I have no pretensions to belong to that class,"
said Charlotte; "I must know well to love a little,
but I trust I feel kind sentiments to the whole
human race."
"Ah, you do not know yourself. You have lived all
your life in the neighbourhood of that Mr. Morton
who just went out, and you feel pity for his illness.
He does indeed look very ill--but you have yet to
learn what it is to love. I ask the high favour of
being permitted to attempt the office of--of--of--"
"Of teaching me!" said Charlotte with a smile."
{sic}
"No--that word is too presumptuous--too coarse--"
"Hear me, Mr. Delafield," said Miss Henley after a
short pause, during which she seemed to have
experienced some deep and perhaps painful
emotions--"I cannot undertake to give you a reason
for my conduct--very possibly I have no good one;
but I feel that I should be doing you injustice by
encouraging what you are pleased to call hopes--I
wish to be understood now, as saying that I cannot
consent to your expecting that I should ever
become your wife."
Delafield was certainly astonished at this refusal,
which was given in that still, decided manner that
admits of little opposition. He had long been
accustomed to apprehend a sudden acceptance, and
had been in the habit of strictly guarding both his
manner and his language, lest something that he
did or said might justify expectations that would
have been out of his power to fulfil; but now, when,
for the first time, he had ventured a direct offer, he
met with a rejection that possessed all the
characteristics of sincerity, he was, in truth, utterly
astounded.
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