Amelia turned as white as snow, and fell into so violent a trembling that Booth plainly perceived her emotion, and immediately partook of it himself. “Sure, my dear,” said he, staring wildly, “there is more in this than I know. A silly dream could not so discompose you. I beg you, I intreat you to tell me—hath ever Colonel James—”
At the very mention of the colonel’s name Amelia fell on her knees, and begged her husband not to frighten her.
“What do I say, my dear love,” cried Booth, “that can frighten you?”
“Nothing, my dear,” said she; “but my spirits are so discomposed with the dreadful scene I saw last night, that a dream, which at another time I should have laughed at, hath shocked me. Do but promise me that you will not leave me behind you, and I am easy.”
“You may be so,” cries Booth, “for I will never deny you anything. But make me easy too. I must know if you have seen anything in Colonel James to displease you.”
“Why should you suspect it?” cries Amelia.
“You torment me to death,” cries Booth. “By Heavens! I will know the truth. Hath he ever said or done anything which you dislike?”
“How, my dear,” said Amelia, “can you imagine I should dislike a man who is so much your friend? Think of all the obligations you have to him, and then you may easily resolve yourself. Do you think, because I refuse to stay behind you in his house, that I have any objection to him? No, my dear, had he done a thousand times more than he hath—was he an angel instead of a man, I would not quit my Billy. There’s the sore, my dear—there’s the misery, to be left by you.”
Booth embraced her with the most passionate raptures, and, looking on her with inexpressible tenderness, cried, “Upon my soul, I am not worthy of you: I am a fool, and yet you cannot blame me. If the stupid miser hoards, with such care, his worthless treasure—if he watches it with such anxiety—if every apprehension of another’s sharing the least part fills his soul with such agonies—O Amelia! what must be my condition, what terrors must I feel, while I am watching over a jewel of such real, such inestimable worth!”
“I can, with great truth, return the compliment,” cries Amelia. “I have my treasure too; and am so much a miser, that no force shall ever tear me from it.”