"Because I like to hear you talk," she explained. She did not see how full of love was the look he bent on her as he plucked a spray of azalea flowers and passed it to her. Through the tears that filled her downcast eyes she saw the flower, and almost mechanically took it from his hand, not daring to look up. But in the silence of her own room she pressed the flowers passionately to her lips and rained tears upon them, as she moaned, "Oh, if he knew, what would he think of me? what would he think?"
[CHAPTER XII.]
Hyacinth Vaughan was soon to learn more of Mr. Darcy's sentiments. He was dining with them one day, when the conversation turned upon some English guests who had arrived at the hotel the evening before—Lord and Lady Wallace.
"She looks quite young," said Lady Vaughan. "She would be a nice companion for Hyacinth."
Mr. Darcy, to whom she was speaking, made no reply. Lady Vaughan noticed how grave his face had grown.
"Do you not think so, Adrian?" she asked.
"Since you wish me to speak, my answer is, no; I do not think so."
"Do you mind telling me why?" pursued Lady Vaughan "I have been so long out of the world I am ignorant of its proceedings."