“I really don’t well know,” said I, endeavouring to laugh at myself, and my own apprehensions; “but I thought I perceived some change in the expression of your countenance towards me, my dear Mr. Montenero. You must know, that all my life, my quickness of perception of the slightest change in the countenance and manner of those I love, has ever been a curse to me; for my restless imagination always set to work to invent causes—and my causes, though ingenious, unluckily, seldom happened to be the real causes. Many a vain alarm, many a miserable hour, has this superfluous activity of imagination cost me—so I am determined to cure myself.”
At the moment I was uttering the determination, I stopped short, for I felt that I could not keep it, on this occasion. Mr. Montenero sighed, or I thought he sighed, and there was such an unusual degree of gravity and deliberation in the mildness of his manner, that I could not believe my alarm was without cause. I took the chair which he placed for me, and we both sat down: but he looked so prepared to listen, that I could not articulate. There was a sudden revulsion in my spirits, and all my ideas were in utter confusion. Mr. Montenero, the kindness of whose manner was not changed towards me, I saw pitied my confusion. He began to talk of his excursion into the country—he spoke of General B—— and of the whole county of Surrey. The words reached my ears, but conveyed no ideas to my mind, except the general notion that Mr. Montenero was giving me time to recover myself. I was grateful for the kind intention, and somewhat encouraged by the softness of voice, and look of pity. But still there was something so measured—so guarded—so prepared!—At last, when he had exhausted all that he could say about the county of Surrey, and a dead silence threatened me, I took courage, and plunged into the middle of things at once. I cannot remember exactly the words, but what I said was to this effect.
“Mr. Montenero, you know so much of the human heart, and of my heart, that you must be aware of the cause of my present embarrassment and emotion. You must have seen my passion for your incomparable daughter.”
“I have seen it, I own—I am well aware of it, Mr. Harrington,” replied Mr. Montenero, in a mild and friendly tone; but there was something of self-accusation and repentance in the tone, which alarmed me inexpressibly.
“I hope, my dear good sir, that you do not repent of your kindness,” said I, “in having permitted me to cultivate your society, in having indulged me in some hours of the most exquisite pleasure I ever yet enjoyed.”
He sighed; and I went on with vehement incoherence.
“I hope you cannot suspect me of a design to abuse your confidence, to win, if it were in my power, your daughter’s affections, without your knowledge, surreptitiously, clandestinely. She is an heiress, a rich heiress, I know, and my circumstances—Believe me, sir, I have never intended to deceive you; but I waited till—There I was wrong. I wish I had abided by my own opinion! I wish I had followed my first impulse! Believe me, sir, it was my first thought, my first wish, to speak to you of all the circumstances; if I delayed, it was from the fear that a precipitate declaration would have been imputed to presumption. As Heaven is my judge, I had no other motive. I abhor artifice. I am incapable of the base treachery of taking advantage of any confidence reposed in me.”
“My good sir,” said Mr. Montenero, when at last I was forced to pause for breath, “why this vehemence of defence? I do not accuse—I do not suspect you of any breach of confidence. Pray compose yourself.”
Calmed by this assurance, I recovered some presence of mind, and proceeded, as I thought, in a most tranquil manner to express my regret, at all events, that I should not have been the first person to have explained to him my unfortunate circumstances. “But this,” I said, “was like the rest of Lord Mowbray’s treacherous conduct.”
I was going on again in a tone of indignation, when Mr. Montenero again begged me to compose myself, and asked “to what unfortunate circumstances I alluded?”