present inferiority, but
not perhaps to the extent which would be exacted from your family. But
oblige me by not carrying your suppositions any further.
(_Tremulously._) I am not very happy--as it is.

_Capt. Eth._ Forgive me, Lucy, I did not intend to inflict pain. I am
much too fond of you for that.

_Lucy._ Then why do you come here to make me miserable?

_Capt. Eth._ To make you miserable, my dear Lucy? I should, indeed, be a
wretch, when my own happiness depends upon you. (_Lucy starts._)
(_Aside._) It is out at last. Now there's no retreat in honour, and I
thank heaven for it. (_Aloud._) Did you hear me, Lucy? (_Lucy appears
fainting, Etheridge supports her._) Are you angry with me, Lucy? (_She
weeps._) I will confess to you honestly, that I have long struggled with
my passion, but pride, ridiculous pride, has severely punished me for
listening to its selfish dictates. Believe me, when I assert, that never
was man more attached than I am to you. Answer me, Lucy, am I then
indifferent to you?

_Lucy._ (_separating herself gently from Captain Etheridge_). I will be
as candid as you have been. (_Remains for a little time silent._)
Whether you are indifferent to me or not, I must leave you to judge,
from the effects of your communication; but I have also pride, and that
pride never will allow me to enter a family against the wishes of those
who have a right to be consulted on a question of such serious
importance.

_Capt. Eth._ Only one question, Lucy. If my father consents to our
union, will you be satisfied, without the concurrence of my mother?

_Lucy._ I should abide by the decision of my own father and mother; but,
to confess the truth, I should not be satisfied.

_Capt. Eth._ Am I then to consider this as a mere act of duty, Lucy? Is
there no feeling towards me?

_Lucy._ O yes! Why should I deny it? Indeed, Edward, if you could have
read my heart for some time back, you would have found----

_Capt. Eth._ What, my dear Lucy?

_Lucy._ That your image has long occupied it--to its unhappiness.

_Capt. Eth._ As yours has mine. Now I trust they will cherish their
inmates with delight. Farewell, my dearest Lucy; I hasten to my father,
and I've an idea in my brain which may procure the completion of our
wishes.

[_They embrace. Exit Captain Etheridge._

_Lucy._ God give me strength, and make me sufficiently grateful! This
was so unexpected. O Edward! Edward! you have opened such a vista of
delight