He began by painting the pleasures of the world, that world from which she had hitherto been secluded.
She heard him with simple indifference: not even her curiosity was excited.
He observed, that though she had no curiosity to see, it was natural that she must have some pleasure in the thoughts of being seen.
“What pleasure?” said Virginia.
“The pleasure of being admired and loved: beauty and grace such as yours, my child, cannot be seen without commanding admiration and love.”
“I do not want to be admired,” replied Virginia, “and I want to be loved by those only whom I love.”
“My dearest daughter, you shall be entirely your own mistress; I will never interfere, either directly or indirectly, in the disposal of your heart.”
At these last words, Virginia, who had listened to all the rest unmoved, took her father’s hand, and kissed it repeatedly.
“Now that I have found you, my darling child, let me at least make you happy, if I can—it is the only atonement in my power; it will be the only solace of my declining years. All that wealth can bestow—”
“Wealth!” interrupted Virginia: “then you have wealth?”