'I will not make one, then! I will only offer an observation. There is a something—I know not what; nor can I divine; but something there is strange, singular,—very unusual, and very striking, between you and Lord Melbury! Pardon, pardon my abruptness! You allow me no time to be scrupulous. You promise him your confidence,—that confidence so long, so fervently solicited by another!—so inexorably withheld!—'
'I earnestly desire,' cried Juliet, recovering her look of openness, and raising her eyes; 'the sanction of Lord Melbury to the countenance and kindness of Lady Aurora.'
'Thanks! thanks!' cried Harleigh; who in this short, but expressive explanation, flattered himself that some concern was included for his peace; ''Tis to that, then, that cause,—a cause the most lovely,—he owes this envied pre-eminence?—And yet,—pardon me!—while apparently only a mediator—may not such a charge,—such an intercourse,—so intimate and so interesting a commission,—may it not,—nay, must it not inevitably make him from an agent become a principal?—Will not his heart pay the tribute—'
'Heaven forbid!' interrupting him, cried Juliet.
'Thanks! thanks, again! You do not, then, wish it? You are generous, noble enough not to wish it? And frank, sweet, ingenuous enough to acknowledge that you do not wish it? Ah! tell me but—'
'Mr Harleigh,' again interrupting him, cried Juliet, 'I know not what you are saying!—I fear I have been misunderstood.—You must let me be gone!'—
'No!' answered he, passionately; 'I can live no longer, breathe no longer, in this merciless solicitude of uncertainty and obscurity! You must give me some glimmering of light, some opening to comprehension,—or content yourself to be my captive!—'
'You terrify me, Mr Harleigh! Let me go!—instantly! instantly!—Would you make me hate—' She had begun with a precipitance nearly vehement; but stopt abruptly.
'Hate me?' cried Harleigh, with a look appalled: 'Good Heaven!'
'Hate you?—No,—not you!... I did not say you!—'