“The cover of a letter only!—and that to your brother!—is it possible you could so much value it?”
“Ah madam! You, who are always used to the good and the wise, who see no other sort of people but those in high life, you can have no notion how they strike those that they are new to!—but I who see them seldom, and who live with people so very unlike them—Oh you cannot guess how sweet to me is every thing that belongs to them! whatever has but once been touched by their hands, I should like to lock up, and keep for ever! though if I was used to them, as you are, perhaps I might think less of them.”
Alas! thought Cecilia, who by them knew she only meant him, little indeed would further intimacy protect you!
“We are all over-ready,” continued Henrietta, “to blame others, and that is the way I have been doing all this time myself; but I don't blame my poor brother now for living so with the great as I used to do, for now I have seen a little more of the world, I don't wonder any longer at his behaviour: for I know how it is, and I see that those who have had good educations, and kept great company, and mixed with the world,—O it is another thing!—they seem quite a different species!—they are so gentle, so soft-mannered! nothing comes from them but what is meant to oblige! they seem as if they only lived to give pleasure to other people, and as if they never thought at all of themselves!”
“Ah Henrietta!” said Cecilia, shaking her head, “you have caught the enthusiasm of your brother, though you so long condemned it! Oh have a care lest, like him also, you find it as pernicious as it is alluring!”
“There, is no danger for me, madam,” answered she, “for the people I so much admire are quite out of my reach. I hardly ever even see them; and perhaps it may so happen I may see them no more!”
“The people?” said Cecilia, smiling, “are there, then, many you so much distinguish?”
“Oh no indeed!” cried she, eagerly, “there is only one! there can be—I mean there are only a few—” she checked herself, and stopt.
“Whoever you admire,” cried Cecilia, “your admiration cannot but honour: yet indulge it not too far, lest it should wander from your heart to your peace, and make you wretched for life.”
“Ah madam!—I see you know who is the particular person I was thinking of! but indeed you are quite mistaken if you suppose any thing bad of me!”