'It is a book, Charles,' continued Glenmurray, 'which the more you study the more you will admire; and I wish to give you a clue to understand some passages in it better than you can now do.'
This speech deceived Adeline, and made her suppose that Glenmurray really alluded to the book which lay before Berrendale: but it convinced him that Glenmurray spoke metaphorically; and as his manner was kind, it also made him think that he saw and did not disapprove his attachment.
For a few minutes, each of them being engrossed in different contemplations, there was a complete silence; but Glenmurray interrupted it by saying, 'My dear Adeline, it is your hour for walking; but, as I am not disposed to sleep again, will you forgive me if I keep your walking companion to myself to-day?—I wish to converse with him alone.'
'Oh! most cheerfully,' she replied with quickness: 'you know I love a solitary ramble of all things.'
'Not very flattering that to my cousin,' observed Glenmurray.
'I did not wish to flatter him,' said Adeline gravely; and Berrendale, fluttered at the idea of the coming conversation with Glenmurray, and mortified by Adeline's words and manner, turned to the window to conceal his emotion.
Adeline, then, with more than usual tenderness, conjured Glenmurray not to talk too much, nor do anything to destroy the hopes on which her only chance of happiness depended, viz. the now possible chance of his recovery, and then set out for her walk; while, with a restraint and coldness which she could not conquer, she bade Berrendale farewell for the present.
The walk was long, and her thoughts perturbed:—'What could Glenmurray want to say to Mr Berrendale?'—'Why did Mr Berrendale sit with his eyes so intently and clandestinely, as it were, fixed on me?' were thoughts perpetually recurring to her: and half impatient, and half reluctant, she at length returned to her lodgings.
When she entered the apartment, she saw signs of great emotion in the countenance of both the gentlemen; and in Berrendale's eyes the traces of recent tears. The tone of Glenmurray's voice too, when he addressed her, was even more tender than usual, and Berrendale's attentions more marked, yet more respectful; and Adeline observed that Glenmurray was unusually thoughtful and absent, and that the cough and other symptoms of his complaint were more troublesome than ever.
'I see you have exerted yourself and talked too much during my absence,' cried Adeline, 'and I will never leave you again for so long a time.'