“But you will think me the most ungrateful of human beings?”
“How often must I assure you, Virginia, that I make no claim upon your gratitude? Speak to me—I conjure you, as you value your happiness and mine—speak to me without disguise! What is all this mystery? Why should you fear to let me know what passes in your heart? Why did you shriek at the sight of that picture?”
“Oh, forgive me! forgive me!” cried Virginia: she would have sunk at his feet, if he had not prevented her.
“I will—I can forgive any thing but deceit. Do not look at me with so much terror, Virginia—I have not deserved it: my wish is to make you happy. I would sacrifice even my own happiness to secure yours; but do not mislead me, or you ruin us both. Cannot you give me a distinct answer to this simple question—Why did you shriek at the sight of that picture?”
“Because—but you will call me ‘perfidious, ungrateful Virginia!’—because I have seen that figure—he has knelt to me—he has kissed my hand—and I———”
Clarence Hervey withdrew his arms, which had supported her, and placing her upon a sofa, left her, whilst he walked up and down the room for some minutes in silence.
“And why, Virginia,” said he, stopping short, “was it necessary to conceal all this from me? Why was it necessary to persuade me that I was beloved? Why was it necessary that my happiness should be the sacrifice?”
“It shall not!—it shall not! Your happiness shall not be the sacrifice. Heaven is my witness, that there is no sacrifice I would not make for you. Forgive me that shriek! I could not help fainting, indeed! But I will be yours—I ought to be yours; and I am not perfidious—I am not ungrateful: do not look upon me as you did in my dream!”
“Do not talk to me of dreams, my dear Virginia; this is no time for trifling; I ask no sacrifice from you—I ask nothing but truth.”
“Truth! Mrs. Ormond knows all the truth: I have concealed nothing from her.”