“I have known her since my father brought me from Harrow to Bath,” said he mournfully. “She was only a child; but I know that I loved her then. I have loved her ever since, God help me!”
“My poor Dick! and you told her of your love?”
“Once; we were both children. Then we were separated, and when we met again everything was changed. I think it was her beauty that frightened me.”
“I can believe that. A girl’s beauty brings many men to her feet; but I am sure that those who are worthiest among men are too greatly overcome by it to do more than remain her worshipper from afar. Have you anything more to tell me?”
He shook his head. His eyes were fixed upon the floor.
“Ah, that is your history—a blank, my lord! a blank?” said she in the pathetic tone of Viola. “Ah, Dick, she cannot have guessed your secret, or she would have been content to wait until the time came for you to reveal it to her.”
“Pray do not torture me by suggesting what might have come about!” he cried. “Psha! I have actually come to be one of her commonplace swains—her Damons and her Corydons—at whom I have been laughing all day.”
“Laughing?”
“Well, yes, in a sort of way.”
“Oh, I know that sort of laughter. ’Tis not pleasant to hear.”