so that loss of innocence
would be less terrifying than separation from him--no sooner did he
perceive this, than he candidly told her he "could never make her his
wife." At the same time he lamented "the difference of their births, and
the duty he owed his parents' hopes," in terms so pathetic to her partial
ear, that she thought him a greater object of compassion in his
attachment even than herself; and was now urged by pity to remove the
cause of his complainings.

One evening Henry accidentally passed the lonely spot where William and
she constantly met; he observed his cousin's impassioned eye, and her
affectionate yet fearful glance. William, he saw, took delight in the
agitation of mind, in the strong apprehension mixed with the love of
Agnes. This convinced Henry that either he or himself was not in love;
for his heart told him he would not have beheld such emotions of
tenderness, mingled with such marks of sorrow, upon the countenance of
Rebecca, for the wealth of the universe.

The first time he was alone with William after this, he mentioned his
observation on Agnes's apparent affliction, and asked "why her grief was
the result of their stolen meetings."

"Because," replied Williams, "her professions are unlimited, while her
manners are reserved; and I accuse her of loving me with unkind
moderation, while I love her to distraction."

"You design to marry her, then?"

"How can you degrade me by the supposition?"

"Would it degrade you more to marry her than to make her your companion?
To talk with her for hours in preference to all other company? To wish
to be endeared to her by still closer ties?"

"But all this is not raising her to the rank of my wife."

"It is still raising her to that rank for which wives alone were
allotted."

"You talk wildly! I tell you I love her; but not enough, I hope, to
marry her."

"But too much, I hope, to undo her?"

"That must be her own free choice--I make use of no unwarrantable
methods."

"What are the warrantable ones?"

"I mean, I have made her no false promises; offered no pretended
settlement; vowed no eternal constancy."

"But you have told her you love her; and, from that confession, has she
not reason to expect every protection which even promises could secure?"

"I cannot answer for her expectations; but I know if she should make me
as happy as I ask, and I should then forsake her, I shall not break my
word."

"Still she will be deceived,