“Very easily, ma’am, because by absolute indifference, I mean—Oh! you know very well what I mean—absolute indifference as to—”
“Love, perhaps, is the word which you cannot pronounce this morning.”
“Now, mother! Now, Caroline! You fancy that I love him. But, supposing there were any if in the case on my side, tell me only why I should refuse him?”
“Nay, my dear, that is what we wait to hear from you,” said Mrs. Percy.
“Then I will tell you why,” said Rosamond: “in the first place, Mr. Gresham has a large fortune, and I have none. And I have the greatest horror of the idea of marrying for money, or of the possibility of its being suspected that I might do so.”
“I thought that was the fear!” cried Caroline: “but, my dear Rosamond, with your generous mind, you know it is quite impossible that you should marry from interested motives.”
“Absolutely impossible,” said her mother. “And when you are sure of your own mind, it would be weakness, my dear, to dread the suspicions of others, even if such were likely to be formed.”
“Oh! do not, my dearest Rosamond,” said Caroline, taking her sister’s hand, pressing it between hers, and speaking in the most urgent, almost supplicating tone, “do not, generous as you are, sacrifice your happiness to mistaken delicacy!”
“But,” said Rosamond, after a moment’s silence, “but you attribute more than I deserve to my delicacy and generosity: I ought not to let you think me so much better than I really am. I had some other motives: you will think them very foolish—very ridiculous—perhaps wrong; but you are so kind and indulgent to me, mother, that I will tell you all my follies. I do not like to marry a man who is not a hero—you are very good not to laugh, Caroline.”
“Indeed, I am too seriously interested at present to laugh,” said Caroline.