“In common minds,” replied Mrs. Percy, “esteem and admiration may be very safely distant from love; but in such a mind as yours, Caroline, the step from perfect esteem to love is dangerously near—scarcely perceptible.”
“Why dangerously?” cried Rosamond: “why should not perfect love follow perfect esteem? that is the very thing I desire for Caroline. I am sure he is attached to her, and he is all we could wish for her, and—”
“Stop!” cried Caroline. “Oh! my dear sister! as you wish me to be good and happy, name him to me no more—for it cannot be.”
“Why?” exclaimed Rosamond, with a look of dismay: “Why cannot it be? It can, it must—it shall be.”
Caroline sighed, and turning from her sister, as if she dreaded to listen to her, she repeated, “No;—I will not flatter myself—I see that it cannot be—I have observed the change in his manner. The pain it gave me first awakened me to the state of my own affections. I have given you some proof of sincerity by speaking thus immediately of the impression made on my mind. You will acknowledge the effort was difficult.—Mother, will you answer me one question—which I am afraid to ask—did you, or do you think that any body else perceived my sentiments by my manner?” Caroline paused, and her mother and sister set her heart at ease on that point.
“After all,” said Rosamond, addressing herself to her mother, “I may be mistaken in what I hinted about Count Altenberg. I own I thought the change in his manner arose from Lady Florence Pembroke—I am sorry I said any thing of it—I dare say when he sees more of her—she is very pretty, very pleasing, very elegant, and amiable, no doubt; but surely, in comparison with Caroline—but I am not certain that there is any rivalship in the case.”
“I am certain that there shall be none,” said Caroline. “How extraordinary it is that the best, the noblest, the most delightful feelings of the heart, may lead to the meanest, the most odious! I have, within a few hours, felt enough to be aware of this. I will leave nothing to chance. A woman should never expose herself to any hazard. I will preserve my peace of mind, my own esteem. I will preserve my dear and excellent friends; and that I may preserve some of them, I am sensible that I must now quit them.”
Mrs. Percy was going to speak, but Rosamond interposed.
“Oh! what have I done!” exclaimed she: “imprudent creature that I was, why did I speak? why did I open your eyes, Caroline? I had resolved not to say a single word of the change I perceived in the Count.”
“And did you think I should not perceive it?” said Caroline. “Oh, you little know how quickly—the first look—the first tone of his voice—But of that I will think no more. Only let me assure you, that you, my dear Rosamond, did no harm—it was not what any body said that alarmed me: before you pointed it out, I had felt that change in his manner, for which I cannot account.”