reased in spite of himself; how intense, how ardent it had
become. He could not tell her exactly, at least he would not, what he
had felt on her account, when he believed that she was likely to
become the bride of Lord Sherbrooke; but he told her fully, ay, and
eloquently, what agony of mind he had endured when he thought of
seeing her give her hand to any other man, without affording him an
apparent chance of even making an effort for himself. In short, he
gave her the whole picture of his personal feelings; and there is no
woman that is not gratified at seeing such a picture displayed, when
she is herself the object. But to a mind such as that of Lady
Laura, and to feelings such as were in her bosom, the tale offered
higher and nobler sources of delight. The love, the deep love, which
she felt, and which was now acknowledged to her own heart, required
every such assurance of full and ample return as his words afforded,
to render it confident and happy. But from the display of his
feelings which he now made, she felt, she saw, she knew that she was
loved as she could wish to be--loved as fully, as intensely, as
deeply, as she herself loved--loved with all those feelings, high,
and bright, and sweet, which assured her beyond all question that the
affection which she had inspired would be permanent as well as
ardent.
Wilton won her, too, to speak upon the same subject as himself,
though, of course, he could not expect her to dwell upon what she
felt in the same manner. There was a great difference: on the one
hand, all the sensations of his heart towards her were boldly avowed
and minutely detailed; the history of his love was told in language
straightforward, eager, and powerful. The love of her bosom, on the
contrary, was shadowed forth rather than spoken, admitted rather than
told, her feelings were referred to, but not depicted.
"You make me glad, Wilton," she said, "by telling me all this, for I
almost feared--and was teasing my own heart about it at the rectory,
lest I should have done the unwomanly thing of loving first--I will
not call it, being too easily won; for I should certainly despise the
woman who thought anything necessary to win her, when once she
really loved, further than the conviction of her lover's sincerity,
and honour, and nobility of spirit. But yet I thought, that even you
might somewhat despise me, if you found that I had loved you before
you loved me. And yet, Wilton," she added, after a momentary pause,
"I cannot help thinki