o
do with situations like this." She did not guess the animus of this
speech. "I felt all I have described; and yet, and yet, I lingered on,
prizing too dearly the happiness of the present hour, to risque it by any
avowal of sentiments, which might have banished me from your presence for
ever. If the alteration of these hopes and fears have proved too strong
for my reason at last, I cannot help it; and this it is which now leads
me to make this avowal to you." Emily turned her head away from me; but
her agitated manner showed how deeply my words had affected her; and I
too, now that I had finished, felt that I had been "coming it rather
strong."

"I hoped, Mr. Lorrequer," said she, at length, "I hoped, I confess, to
have had an opportunity of speaking with you." Then, thought I, the game
is over, and Bishop Luscombe is richer by five pounds, than I wish him.
--"Something, I know not what, in your manner, led me to suspect that your
affections might lean towards me; hints you have dropped, and, now and
then, your chance allusions strengthened the belief, and I determined, at
length, that no feeling of maidenly shame on my part should endanger the
happiness of either of us, and I determined to see you; this was so
difficult, that I wrote a letter, and that letter, which might have saved
me all distressing explanation, I burned before you this morning."

"But, why, dearest girl,"--here was a plunge--"why, if the letter could
remove any misconstruction, or could be the means of dispelling any
doubt--why not let me see it?"

"Hear me out," cried she, eagerly, and evidently not heeding my
interruption, "I determined if your affections were indeed"--a flood of
tears here broke forth, and drowned her words; her head sank between her
hands, and she sobbed bitterly.

"Corpo di Baccho!" said I to myself, "It is all over with me; the poor
girl is evidently jealous, and her heart will break."

"Dearest, dearest Emily," said I, passing my arm round her, and
approaching my head close to her's, "if you think that any other love
than yours could ever beat within this heart--that I could see you hourly
before me--live beneath your smile, and gaze upon your beauty--and, still
more than all--pardon the boldness of the thought--feel that I was not
indifferent to you."--

"Oh! spare me this at least," said she, turning round her tearful eyes
upon me, and looking most bewitchingly beautiful. "Have I then showed
you this plainly?"