“Of course I loved him. I love him still.”
“Do you, really? To hear you, one would think that you only respected him as a superior.”
“You have no right to say that. You dont understand.”
“Perhaps not. Would you mind explaining?”
“I do not mean anything particular; but there are two kinds of love. There is a love which one’s good sense suggests—a sort of moral approval——”
Elinor laughed. “Go on,” she said. “What is the other sort?”
“The other sort has nothing to do with good sense. It is an overpowering impulse—a craving—a faith that defies logic—something to look forward to feeling in your youth, and look back to with a kindling heart in your age.”
“Indeed! Isnt the difference between the two sorts much the same as the difference between the old love and the new?”
“What do you mean?”
“I think I will take another cup of tea. You neednt stop flying out at me, though: I dont mind it.”