“What did you think?—What could you think?”
“I cannot—I mean, I would rather not at present tell you. But do not look so grave; I will tell you some time or other, if you cannot guess.”
Virginia was silent, and stood abashed.
“I am sure, my sweet girl,” said Mrs. Ormond, “I do not mean, by any thing I said, to confuse or blame you. It is very natural that you should be grateful to Mr. Hervey, and that you should admire, and, to a certain degree, love him.”
Virginia looked up delighted, yet with some hesitation in her manner.
“He is, indeed,” said Mrs. Ormond, “one of the first of human beings: such even I have always thought him; and I am sure I like you the better, my dear, for your sensibility,” said she, kissing Virginia as she spoke; “only we must take care of it, or this tenderness might go too far.”
“How so?” said Virginia, returning her caresses with fondness: “can I love you and Mr. Hervey too much?”
“Not me.”
“Nor him, I’m sure—he is so good, so very good! I am afraid that I do not love him enough,” said she, sighing. “I love him enough when he is absent, but not when he is present. When he is near I feel a sort of fear mixed with my love. I wish to please him very much, but I should not quite like that he should show his love for me as you do—as you did just now.”
“My dear, it would not be proper that he should; you are quite right not to wish it.”