“I am something more,” said Leoline, holding his hand between both hers, and bending near him; “I am your sister!”
The Earl of Rochester's page must have had good blood in his veins; for never was there duke, grandee, or peer of the realm, more radically and unaffectedly nonchalant than he. To this unexpected announcement he listened with most dignified and well-bred composure, and in his secret heart, or rather vanity, more disappointed than otherwise, to find his first solution of her tenderness a great mistake. Leoline held his hand tight in hers, and looked with loving and tearful eyes in his face.
“Dear Hubert, you are my brother—my long-unknown brother, and I love you with my whole heart!”
“Am I?” said Hubert. “I dare say I am, for they all say we look as much alike as two peas. I am excessively delighted to hear it, and to know that you love me. Permit me to embrace my new relative.”
With which the court page kissed Leoline with emphasis, while she scarcely knew whether to laugh, cry, or be provoked at his composure. On the whole, she did a little of all three, and pushed him away with a halt pout.
“You insensible mortal! How can you stand there and hear that you have found a sister with so much indifference?”
“Indifferent? Not I! You have no idea how wildly excited I am!” said Hubert, in a voice not betokening the slightest emotion. “How did you find it out, Leoline?”
“Never mind! I shall tell you that again. You don't doubt it, I hope?”
“Of course not! I knew from the first moment I set eyes on you, that if you were not my sister, you ought to be! I wish you'd tell me all the particulars, Leoline.”
“I shall do so as soon as I am out of this; but how can I tell you anything here?”