ght. But what does that
signify? You do not love a man the better always, the longer you know
him. Of you, I discern that there is that in you I can love, that
would make me happy. I have talent, some sort of talent at least. You
have a spirit which would force me to use it. I will not pretend to
say that I am suited for you. You must judge that. But I know that
you are suited for me. Now I will take any answer you will give me."

To tell the truth, Miss Waddington hardly knew what answer to give
him. He was one, it seemed, who, having spoken with decision himself,
would take any answer as decisive. He was one not to be tampered
with, and one also hardly to be rejected without consideration; and
certainly not so to be accepted. She had liked him much--very much,
considering the little she had known of him. She had even asked
herself, half playfully, whether it were not possible that she might
learn to love him. He was a gentleman, and that with her was much.
He was a man of talent, and that with her was more. He was one whose
character and mode of thought she could respect. He was a man whom
any woman might probably be able to respect. But Caroline Waddington
wanted much more than this in her future lord. She could talk
pleasantly of the probability of her marrying a country parson; but
she had, in truth, a much wider ambition for herself. She would never
marry--such was the creed which was to govern her own life--without
love; but she would not allow herself to love where love would
interfere with her high hopes. In her catalogue of human blisses
love in a cottage was not entered. She was not avaricious; she did
not look to money as the summum bonum;--certainly not to marry for
money's sake. But she knew that no figure in the world could be made
without means. Her own fortune was small, and she did not even rate
her beauty high. Her birth was the birth of a lady, but that was
all; her talents had never been tried, but she thought of them more
indifferently than they deserved. She felt, therefore, that she had
no just ground to hope for much; but she was determined that no folly
on her own part should rob her of any chance that fortune might
vouchsafe to her.

Under such circumstances what answer should she make to Bertram? Her
heart would have bid her not reject him, but she was fearful of her
own heart. She dreaded lest she should be betrayed into sacrificing
herself to love. Ought prudence now to step in and bid he