Gertrude availed herself of every opportunity to acquaint him with the truth, that he could not render himself more odious in her eyes than by the use of such mean attempts to mortify her; but attributing her warmth to jealousy, which he desired to excite, the selfish young man persevered in his course of wickedness. As he only proffered his attentions, and made no offer of his heart and hand, Kitty, having forgotten that she had a few weeks back looked upon Gertrude as a rival, now chose her for her bosom friend; and the transparency of her character was such that she betrayed her secret to Gertrude. Though no one but Gertrude appeared to observe it, Kitty was wonderfully changed;—the gay, laughing, careless Kitty had now her fits of musing—her sunny face was subject to clouds, that flitted across it, and robbed it of all its brightness. If she found Gertrude sitting alone in her room she would approach, throw her arm around her, and talk on her favourite topic. She would relate the complimentary speeches and polite attentions of Mr. Bruce, talk about him for an hour, and question Gertrude as to her opinion of his merits. She would ask if Gertrude really supposed he meant all he said, and add, that of course she didn't believe he did—it was all nonsense. And if Gertrude avowed the same opinion, and declared it was best not to trust his flatteries, poor Kitty's face would fail, and she would give her reasons for sometimes thinking he was sincere—he had such a truthful, earnest way of speaking.
At last Mr. Bruce tried Gertrude's firmness by offering to her acceptance a rich ring. Not a little surprised at his presumption, she declined it without ceremony, and the next day saw it on the finger of Kitty, who was eager to give an account of its presentation.
"And did you accept it?" asked Gertrude, with such a look of astonishment, that Kitty observed it, and evaded an acknowledgment of having done so, by saying, with a blushing countenance, that she agreed to wear it a little while.
"I wouldn't," said Gertrude.
"Why not?"
"Because, in the first place, I do not think it is in good taste to receive such rich gifts from gentlemen; and then, again, if strangers notice it, you may be subjected to unpleasant, significant remarks."
"What would you do with it?" asked Kitty.
"I should give it back."
Kitty looked very undecided; but concluded to offer it to Mr. Bruce, and tell him what Gertrude said. She did so, and that gentleman, little appreciating Gertrude's motives, and believing her only desirous of making difficulty between him and Kitty, jumped at the conclusion that her heart was won at last. He was disappointed, therefore, when, on his next meeting with her, she treated him as she had invariably done of late, with cool civility; indeed, it seemed to him that she was more insensible than ever to his attractions, and hastily quitted the house, much to the distress of Kitty.
"Shall I," thought he, "marry this poor girl? Shall I, who have a handsome fortune, and additional expectations to make a brilliant alliance, condescend to share my wealth with this adopted child of the Grahams? If she were one atom less charming, I would disappoint her, after all! I wonder how she'd feel if I should marry Kitty! I dare say that she would come to my wedding, bend her slender neck as gracefully as ever, and say, 'Good evening, Mr. Bruce,' as calmly as she does now, every time I go to the house! But, as Mrs. Bruce, I should be proud of that manner, certainly. I wonder how I ever got in love with her; I'm sure I don't know. She isn't handsome; mother thinks she isn't, and so does Belle Clinton. But Lieutenant Osborne noticed her the minute she came into the room; and Fan raves about her beauty. I don't know what I think myself; I believe she's bewitched me, so that I'm not capable of judging; but, if it isn't beauty, it's something more than mere good looks."