“How, pray?”
“By smiling at me.”
Clara smiled and said:
“Be merry then; indeed, Cousin, you could become so again if you chose. Do not determine to find fault with everything and think everything means you. Seek novelty; you say that all here seem to take pleasure in the play while you do not. They are pleased because it is new to them. I have never seen a play, and I am highly pleased. If you have been often to the theater there is nothing strange in your thinking this poor one excellent, though it seems beautiful to me. But you will find usually an interest in other things. Try it, and see if my philosophy is not true.”
His response is that he knew but one means.
“What is that?”
“To have a companion.”
The meaning suddenly flashed upon her, and she turned away.
“Clara, dearest Clara, if you take such an interest in my welfare why—”
Sh-h-h-h came in a loud murmur from the audience, the curtain having risen, which Effingham recognizes, and ejaculates: