'Severe as this injunction is,' replied he, 'my soul avows the justice of it; and I submit.'—'Farewel, then!' said she, rising from her feet. 'Oh, farewel!' cried he, and kissed her hand with emotions not to be expressed. 'Farewel for ever!' rejoined she, turning hastily away to prevent his seeing the tears with which her eyes were overcharged, and in that cruel instant overflowed her cheeks. She advanced with all the speed she could towards the wicker-gate; but, when there, could not forbear giving one look behind; and, perceiving he had left the walk, and was proceeding through the garden, with folded arms, and a dejected pace, 'Poor Trueworth!' cried she, and pursued him with her eyes till he was quite out of sight.
Some readers may, perhaps, blame Mr. Trueworth, as having presumed too far on the discovery of the lady's passion; and others, of a contrary way of thinking, laugh at him for being so easily repulsed: but all, in general, must applaud the conduct of Mrs. Munden. Till this dangerous instance, she had never had an opportunity of shewing the command she had over herself; and, as Mr. Eastcourt justly says—
'Ne'er let the fair-one boast of virtue prov'd,
Till she has well refus'd the man she truly lov'd.'
CHAPTER XXII
Is less pleasing than the former
After this solemn parting between Mr. Trueworth and Mrs. Munden, that lady's mind was in too much disorder to think what was become of the little picture that had occasioned it; till, an hour or two after, the maid of the house came running into the chamber with it in her hand. 'Does this pretty picture belong to you, Madam?' said she. Mrs. Munden started; but, soon recovering herself, answered that it did—said that it was the picture of her youngest brother—and that she believed she might pull it out of her pocket with her handkerchief, or some how or other drop it in the walk. 'Aye, to be sure, it was so,' said the maid; 'for it was there I found it: as I was going to the pump for some water, I saw something that glittered just by the little arbour, on which I ran and took it up; but my mistress told me she believed it was yours; for she knew your ladyship was in the walk this morning.'—'I am glad thou hast found it,' replied Mrs. Munden; 'for it would have vexed me to the heart to have lost it.'—'Aye, to be sure, Madam!' cried she; 'for it is a sweet picture—your brother is a handsome gentleman—I warrant there are a thousand ladies in love with him.' Mrs. Munden could not forbear smiling at the simplicity of the wench; but, willing to be rid of her, rewarded her honesty with a crown-piece, and dismissed her.
She was rejoiced, indeed, to have this picture once more in her possession; not only because some other might have found and kept it, but also because she thought she might indulge herself in looking on it without any breach of that duty to which she was resolved so strictly to adhere. To be secure, however, from a second rencounter with the original in that place, she kept close in the house, and stirred not out of it all the time he was there: but her apprehensions on this score were needless; Mr. Trueworth religiously observed the promise he had made her; and, lest he should be under any temptation to break it while so near her, took leave of his friend that same day, and returned to London; but carried with him sentiments very different from those he had brought down, as will hereafter appear.
As to Mrs. Munden, she found that she had no less occasion for exerting the heroine when alone, than when encircled in the arms of Mr. Trueworth: the accident which had betrayed the secret of her heart to him had also discovered it to herself. She was now convinced that it was something more than esteem—than friendship—than gratitude—his merits had inspired her with; she was conscious that, while she most resisted the glowing pressure of his lips, she had felt a guilty pleasure in the touch which had been near depriving her of doing so; and that, though she had resolved never to see him more, it would be very difficult to refrain wishing to be for ever with him.