"Oh, Mr. Lyne!" she answered, "I am so sorry that this should have occurred; for although I feel deeply gratified by your preference, I would much rather not have had that gratification than be obliged, as I am, to inflict the pain of a refusal upon you."
"Pray hear me for a moment, Miss Adair," he exclaimed, eagerly, "before you give so decided an answer. Your mother has given her full approbation to my suit, and my family would be enchanted to receive you among them; for myself, I can truly say that I have the highest possible respect and admiration for you, and you have always appeared to like me. I would do everything to make you happy—agree to anything you could desire. What obstacle, then, is there to your marrying me?"
She looked at him in amazement, and was on the point of giving him rather a sharp answer; but remembering that more or less a refusal must give him pain, she felt that it would be unwomanly not to make hers as gentle as she could; therefore she determined to restrain herself, and after a little hesitation she said—
"There is one grand objection, Mr. Lyne. I feel no love for you, and I could not do you the wrong of marrying you without loving."
"Oh! if that's all, I'll forgive you the wrong. I will try to win your love, and I am too sensible to want that sort of romantic love about which some people rave. Indeed, I do not think it in the least necessary to the happiness of marriage."
This was too much for Flora; she forgot all her good resolutions, and retorted with heightened colour, "I dare say you do not; you probably think, as I have heard good people in France say, that l'amour n'est rien dans le mariage, c'est une affection—un dévouement chrétien, qui doit exister entre les époux, et cet amour ne vient qu'après le mariage. Perhaps you would be satisfied with that sort of thing!"
No sooner had the words escaped her than she felt heartily ashamed of herself, and she added, humbly, "Forgive me; I have been rude and ungrateful. I have no excuse to offer save that I was carried away by momentary excitement. This is a subject upon which I feel very strongly, and I cannot, as I know many estimable people do, look upon marriage as a sort of half religious, half social duty, for which suitable position and fortune, without any prominent incompatibility of disposition, are the only requisites. If I have ever misled you as to my sentiments towards you, believe me, Mr. Lyne, that it was unintentional. I never thought of you in any other way than as a friend, and, until this evening, I never imagined that you otherwise regarded me—surely we are too unsuited to each other for anything more."
"Yes, I do feel now that we are unsuited to each other; yet I never admired you more than I do at this moment. As to your having misled me, the fault, if any, was all my own. I might have seen how reluctant you were to grant me these few minutes, and yet I would persevere, so you are perfectly free from blame. Whatever pain you may have caused me I freely forgive. Remember also, Miss Adair, that should you ever want a friend you will find a true one in me."
"Of that I am sure."
He looked gratified, pressed her hand, and murmured, "God bless you!" and then left her.