Soon after, Mr. Macartney, in a low voice, intreated me not to deny him the gratification of returning the money. While he was speaking, the young lady I saw yesterday at the assembly, with the large party, entered the pump-room. Mr. Macartney turned as pale as death, his voice faultered, and he seemed not to know what he said. I was myself almost equally disturbed, by the crowd of confused ideas that occurred to me. Good Heaven! thought I, why should he be thus agitated?-is it possible this can be the young lady he loved?-
In a few minutes we quitted the pump-room; and, though I twice wished Mr. Macartney good morning, he was so absent he did not hear me.
We did not immediately return to Clifton, as Mrs. Selwyn had business at a pamphlet shop. While she was looking at some new poems, Lord Orville again asked me when I should see Mr. Macartney?
“Indeed, my Lord,” cried I, “I know not, but I would give the universe for a few moments’ conversation with him!” I spoke this with a simple sincerity, and was not aware of the force of my own words.
“The universe!” repeated he, “Good God, Miss Anville, do you say this to me?”
“I would say it,” returned I, “to any body, my Lord.”
“I beg your pardon,” said he, in a voice that showed him ill pleased, “I am answered.”
“My Lord,” cried I, “you must not judge hardly of me. I spoke inadvertently; but if you knew the painful suspense I suffer at this moment, you would not be surprised at what I have said.”
“And would a meeting with Mr. Macartney relieve you from that suspense?”
“Yes, my Lord, two words might be sufficient.”